[That diluted version is what you know today as the 'Azure Tide Scripture'.]Ha-jun froze. The world tilted on its axis."You mean..." Ha-jun looked at the dusty book in his hand with new eyes. "The Great Orthodox Art... the pride of the Moyong Clan... is just a cripple's version of this?"[Precisely. The 'Azure Tide' is a cup of water taken from the ocean of 'Chaos'. It is safe. It is clean. It is... mediocre.] [The Clan Elders labeled these original texts as 'Forbidden' and 'Demonic' not because they are evil, but because they were ashamed. They could not master them. They feared the power they could not control. So they locked the truth away and worshipped the lie.]Ha-jun opened The Chronicles of the Primal Chaos.The characters inside didn't look like ink. They looked like shifting shadows.To embrace Chaos is not to seek disorder, but to accept that Order is a lie. Fire burns. Water drowns. Wind cuts. The Chaos Practitioner eats them all and becomes the storm.He opened The Ste

"'Diluted (10%) version'..." Ha-jun read aloud. A bitter smile twisted his lips. "So the Moyong Clan, the 'Lords of the Azure Tide', have been puffing out their chests over a puddle of water for three thousand years."[System: Precisely. It’s actually quite funny from an objective standpoint. They act so arrogantly about their 'Pure Orthodox Art', unaware that it’s just the 'Chaos Art' with the dangerous parts removed. It’s like bragging about riding a bicycle with training wheels while the motorcycle sits in the garage.]"And Concealment: Perfect," Ha-jun muttered. "This is the most important part. 'Mutated or denser Azure Tide'. This means I can use this openly."[System: Correct. They will think you are a prodigy who has awakened a 'Heavy Water' variant of the clan art. They will praise you for it. They will never suspect that you are actually wielding the very force their ancestors were too terrified to touch.] [It is the ultimate camouflage. You will destroy them using the True

"They were actively suppressing me. Every single day."[System: A direct descendant with a claim to the throne is dangerous. A dead descendant raises questions. A weak, incompetent descendant is useful. They made you weak. They manufactured your mediocrity.] [And now, the Chaos Art has spat its hard work onto your skin.] [Congratulations, Host. You are officially detoxed. But unless you stop eating their food, you will fill up again.]Ha-jun didn't scream. He didn't rage. The anger went past the point of noise and into the realm of absolute silence.He turned and walked toward the communal well.The well was deserted at this hour; the other disciples were already at morning drills. Ha-jun stripped off his soiled robes, standing naked in the cool morning air.His body was a masterpiece of lean muscle and scarred callousness, but it was painted black with the evidence of his clan’s treachery.He dropped the bucket into the well.Splash.He hauled it up, the rope groaning.He poured th

"The bad memories of suffering, the hidden enemies... no wonder you lashed out at Liu Jin. You are stressed and frightened. You need some distance from the clan house. Take your time to heal."Here it comes, Ha-jun thought.The shove."I have been thinking," Moyong Wi continued, guiding Ha-jun gently toward the center of the room, as if presenting a prize steer to a butcher. "You are fifteen now. You are a man of the Moyong bloodline. It is time you saw the world beyond these walls. Time you breathed air that isn't tainted by these... conspirators."Moyong Wi gestured to a map hanging on the wall."A caravan is leaving tomorrow for the Iron City. It carries a shipment of Spirit Herbs and Ore from our mines. It is a vital shipment, but the route is... standard and safe."'Even from you, Uncle?' Ha-jun wanted to ask, but didn't.Moyong Wi smiled, a smile that didn't reach his predatory eyes."I want you to lead it, Ha-jun."The Elders murmured. Leading a caravan was a task for a Senior

The Bandit Chief, a massive man wielding a greataxe, stepped forward. "Is this the runt? He looks soft.""He is soft," Gwak laughed. "Break his legs first. Let him scream a bit. The Clan Head wants to know that he suffered a gruesome pain before he dies."Ha-jun sat on his horse. He looked at the fifty men surrounding him. He looked at the steel in their hands.He slowly dismounted. His boots hit the dust with a heavy, solid thud.He untied the wooden sword from his waist."Soft," Ha-jun repeated, testing the word.He looked up. The Eye of the Sword Sovereign activated. His pupils snapped into vertical slits. A grey, suffocating mist began to seep from his skin, the Chaos Qi leaking out, unable to be contained by his excitement."You brought me fifty teachers," Ha-jun said, his voice echoing unnaturally in the canyon. "And fifty steel blades."He gripped the wooden hilt. The wood groaned as he poured the heavy, violent energy of the Void into it. The "stick" turned black, vibrating w