Half a month passed in relentless training.
All five had opened their meridians and stepped into the Inner Meridian Realm.
Thanks to their past martial experience, they were catching up to Ming with terrifying speed.
Meanwhile, Ming himself had reached the Martial Artist Gate Realm…
but he hadn't moved an inch toward breaking through to the Peak Martial Artist Realm.
He sat alone for a moment, thinking:
Master always said… "If you want to grow stronger, you must fight. Martial arts are forged in life-and-death."
If that's true… then training alone won't push me further.
With that thought, Ming stood up and walked out of the cave.
Wrath, who was seated near the entrance cultivating, opened her eyes.
"My lord, where are you going?"
Ming replied without stopping,
"I'm going to practice."
"Should I come with you?"
"No need."
He continued walking.
Inside the cave, each of the others was wrapped in their own world.
Greed was lifting a massive boulder, muscles trembling, sweat falling like rain.
From the first day, he trained harder than anyone — no complaints, no words, just pure obsession.
Pride sat cross-legged in another corner, mumbling questions to himself:
"Why is the sky blue?"
"If I throw something up, why does it always fall down?"
His way of training was trying to understand— everything.
Gluttony and Envy sat between them, locked in a deadly serious match of Go, staring at the board as if losing would cost a life.
Ming glanced back at them one last time.
They're all improving… faster than I expected.
Then he turned his eyes toward the darkness of the cave tunnel and stepped out.
Ming wandered deeper into the Red Line, wanting to know just how massive this place truly was.
He encountered monster after monster — clawed beasts, skinless abominations, shadow creatures — and with every swing of his blade, he cut them down.
Each kill sharpened his precision, his movement, his connection to death qi.
Hours passed.
Dozens of corpses later, Ming finally turned back toward the cave…
…but he didn't notice the black shadow silently watching him from afar.
A presence… following him.
Waiting.
When Ming returned, the cave was as chaotic as ever.
Envy was doing something absolutely insane.
He had a monster tied up — barely alive — and was shouting at Gluttony:
"Slap it harder! HARDER! I need more injuries to practice my healing art!"
Gluttony swung his blade (a bit too enthusiastically), and the monster shrieked as a chunk of flesh fell off.
Then Envy healed it.
Then Gluttony hit it again.
Then Envy healed it again.
It was a disaster loop.
Gluttony finally stopped and looked at Envy, guilt written all over his face.
"I think what we're doing is wrong… Look at it. It's like it's begging us to stop."
Envy snapped, "What do you know?! I need something to practice on!
Unless… you'd prefer I practice on you?"
Gluttony's soul left his body for a second.
"N-no! I didn't mean that!"
Gluttony leaned in close to Envy's ear and whispered,
"Why don't you try your healing art on Pride instead?"
Then he pointed at Pride in the corner.
"Who knows… maybe you can cure his lunacy."
Pride, sensing someone badmouthing him, slowly turned and shot both of them a death glare.
Envy and Gluttony snapped their heads away instantly, staring at the wall like innocent children.
Envy muttered under his breath,
"There is no healing art for curing lunatics, you idiot."
Wrath, who had been preparing a "meal" for Ming, looked way too happy — like cooking was her true passion.
Sadly… her cooking was literally raw meat on fire with zero seasoning, but hey, she was proud.
Greed noticed Ming returning and immediately rushed over.
"My lord! If you don't mind, I want to ask a question!"
Ming froze.
He started sweating instantly.
Because Greed was always like this — whenever he didn't understand anything, he'd sprint straight to Ming.
And the problem?
Ming actually knew less martial arts theory than all of them.
But in their eyes, he was the "Grand Master of All Things."
So Ming could only keep acting.
Greed continued seriously:
"I was wondering… what if someone could use both types of qi at the same time?"
Hearing that, all the others perked up.
Wrath stopped stirring her burnt meat.
Pride opened one eye.
Even Envy paused their torture-healing session.
Everyone stared at Ming.
Because this question… was actually huge.
It made all of them curious.
Ming sighed internally.
(Why are you all asking me things even your ancestors didn't figure out…)
But out loud, he kept his calm, wise-master face.
"How would I know?" Ming said slowly. "But one thing is certain…
Someone who can use both qi at the same time would become the strongest person in their realm."
The group's eyes widened.
What they didn't know was—
Ming could use both qi… just not simultaneously.
He basically had an extra qi reserve inside him.
Meaning he could fight WAY longer than a normal person.
But of course, he wasn't going to tell them that.
Days passed… then weeks… then months.
And now, Ming sat on a mountain of monster corpses, breathing heavily, but smiling like a man who finally won a fight with fate itself.
He had done it.
After half a year of grinding, bleeding, and fighting like a demon, Ming finally broke through to the Peak Martial Artist Realm.
He clenched his fists, feeling the new strength flowing through him.
("Finally… I made it.")
It took forever, but it was worth every second.
But the happiness ended fast.
Because now Ming saw a new problem.
His subordinates… were getting comfortable.
Way too comfortable.
Other than Greed and Wrath, who trained like maniacs, the rest were turning the cave into a cozy home.
Eat.
Sleep.
Do a little practice.
Laugh.
Play games.
Repeat.
They didn't look like people who had sworn revenge.
They looked like people living their best peaceful cave-life.
And Ming knew exactly why.
It's normal for humans — when life becomes comfortable, the fire in their hearts gets weaker.
Revenge fades.
Purpose fades.
And eventually… they forget why they're fighting.
Ming clicked his tongue.
("If this continues… they'll lose themselves.")
But now he had strength.
Real strength.
Peak Martial Artist Realm.
And he knew something else:
("Master won't be angry anymore if I leave this place now.")
So Ming abandoned his original plan of training for ten full years.
He stood up, looking toward the cave where his people were laughing, resting, and enjoying safety for the first time in their lives.
Ming took a deep breath.
It was time to make a hard decision.
It was time… to leave this place.