Solo Leveling : The Way of The Sword.

Mastery of the sword does not consist of cutting others but of cutting one's own doubt and fear.

Father was quite adamant about those words being one of the foundations on the path of a swordsman. 

Taejin stood in the center of the hall, his black and crimson hunter attire accentuating his lean, muscular frame. His outfit, custom-designed for both combat and training, consisted of reinforced leather and enchanted fabric that resisted wear while allowing for maximum flexibility. A long crimson scarf hung loosely around his neck, fluttering slightly as he moved.

On the floor before him lay Murasame and Muramasa, their sheaths gleaming under the training room's ethereal lights. Taejin's gaze was calm yet intense as he mentally mapped out his training routine for the evening.

"Let's see what he does after fighting the Vice Guild Master," one hunter whispered.

Taejin began with weighted gear exercises, donning enchanted cuffs that glowed faintly as they adjusted their weight. Each step he took sent a small tremor through the ground, the strain evident in the tightening of his muscles.

"Hundred laps around the hall," he murmured to himself.

With that, he sprinted off, his movements surprisingly fluid despite the enormous weight.

After that, Taejin picked up Murasame, unsheathing it in a smooth, fluid motion.

Taejin positioned himself before a row of enchanted steel dummies. With each draw of Murasame, a flash of light illuminated the hall, followed by the dull thud of the dummies splitting cleanly in half. The speed of his draws increased with every strike, until his motions were a blur, too fast for most to follow.

Enchanted dummies activated in rapid succession, their movements erratic and unpredictable. Taejin's Critical Eye skill honed in on their weaknesses, and with each precise slash, he dismantled them before they could attack.

Switching to Muramasa, Taejin channeled his Sword Ki into the blade. A faint blue aura enveloped the sword, crackling with energy.

'Accelerate.'

In an instant, Taejin vanished, reappearing at the far end of the hall. The sound of his footsteps came only seconds later, delayed by his overwhelming speed. He repeated the process, weaving through an intricate obstacle course filled with swinging blades, flame traps, and energy blasts.

"He's using Accelerate to chain attacks," Han Dong-Su muttered as he observed Taejin's insane regiment, his eyes narrowing.

Taejin darted between obstacles, striking targets precisely before they could fully materialize.

Finally, Taejin blindfolded himself, drawing both Murasame and Muramasa. Magical spheres floated around him, their movements erratic and silent.

"The man's insane," Yoo Jin-Ho whispered, wide-eyed.

Despite the lack of vision, Taejin moved flawlessly, his swords cutting through the spheres as though he could see them. His Critical Eye and honed instincts guided him, each strike clean and deliberate.

When he finished, Taejin sheathed his blades and wiped the sweat from his brow. His breathing was steady, his expression calm, but his body radiated the heat of someone who had just pushed themselves to their limit.

"This is why he's called the 'Scarlet Tempest, by some'" Cha Hae-In murmured, finally stepping forward. Taejin turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Scarlet Tempest?"

"It suits you," she said with a faint smile. "Your speed, precision, and intensity—like watching a storm tear through its enemies."

Taejin chuckled softly, running a hand through his damp hair. "If I'm a storm, it's one that still needs to grow stronger."

As the onlookers dispersed, each inspired in their way, Taejin remained in the training hall, gazing at his blades. The path ahead was long, but for Taejin, there was no greater honor than walking it with unwavering resolve.

The training hall was quiet now, its once vibrant energy replaced by a serene stillness. Taejin stepped out, his body weary but his mind alert. He made his way to his private quarters.

After placing the swords reverently on their stand, Taejin removed his weighted gear and changed into a light robe. The scars on his dark skin caught the faint light of a single lantern, each mark a testament to battles fought and survived.

Taejin sat cross-legged on the mat, his hands resting lightly on his knees. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, expand his chest, and then leave in a slow, measured exhale. The rhythmic breathing calmed his heart and stilled his thoughts.

As his body relaxed, his mind drifted back to the dungeon and the enigmatic boss they had faced—a creature unlike any he had encountered before.

"What was that thing?" Taejin's brow furrowed slightly as the memory of the beast came to life in his mind. Its hulking frame, twisted and unnatural, loomed in the darkness of his thoughts. Its movements were erratic yet deliberate, each strike imbued with an unnatural malice.

"It wasn't just strength or speed. It was something… deeper. Like it wasn't just fighting us—it was trying to overwhelm us, consume us. Even its presence felt wrong, like the dungeon itself was bending to its will."

He remembered the moment its blade clashed with his, the sheer weight of the blow reverberating through Murasame and into his arms. The creature had roared, its voice an otherworldly mix of anguish and fury, and Taejin had felt a strange sensation then—a whisper at the edge of his consciousness, as though the dungeon boss itself was alive in ways he couldn't fully comprehend.

"It wasn't just a monster. It felt… intelligent, and aware. But of what? Us? The dungeon? Or something beyond?"

Taejin's breathing slowed further, his focus sharpening. He began to replay the fight in his mind, examining every detail.

"Its strikes were calculated, but not flawless. Its left side—there was a slight hesitation in its movements there. A weakness? Or a trap?"

He pictured the moment he had used Accelerate to dodge a crushing blow, only to find the creature adapting to his speed.

"It learned mid-fight. Faster than any enemy I've faced before. That's why it felt so strange—it was evolving as we fought. But what does that mean? Are dungeons themselves changing? Or…"

The thought trailed off, replaced by the memory of its eyes—two glowing orbs filled with a cold, alien rage.

"No. It wasn't just adapting. It was testing us, like we were pieces in some larger game."

Taejin's hand tightened into a fist on his knee, his breathing momentarily breaking its rhythm. He took another deep breath, steadying himself.

The room felt heavier now, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. Yet within that weight, Taejin found clarity.

"I need to be stronger. Faster. Sharper. If this is the direction the world is heading—if these dungeons are no longer just a threat but something… more—I can't afford to stay where I am."

His mind drifted to his sparring match with Cha Hae-In earlier. And then of what she said after his training echoed in his thoughts: "Your speed, precision, and intensity—it's like watching a storm."

"A storm isn't enough," he thought. "A storm can be weathered. I need to become something unstoppable, something that even these monsters—no, whatever controls them—can't comprehend or counter."

His breathing deepened, and his mind began to clear. With every exhale, the tension left his body.

"Adapt, evolve, endure. That's what it takes to survive. That's what it takes to protect."

After what felt like hours, Taejin opened his eyes. The faint glow of the lantern reflected in his calm, unwavering gaze. He rose from the mat, his movements slow but purposeful.

Walking to the stand where Murasame and Muramasa rested, he ran a hand along their hilts. "You felt it too, didn't you?" he whispered, as though the blades could hear him. "That fight wasn't just another challenge. It was a warning."

Taejin tightened the belt of his robe and looked out the window into the night. The stars above seemed distant yet unwavering, a quiet reminder of the vastness of the world—and the battles yet to come.

"Whatever's out there," he muttered, "I'll be ready."