The chilling title—"Devil of the Battlefield"—was scrawled across a separate, hidden page within the Murim section of the diary. This wasn't a boast; it was a label, a moniker earned through such devastating martial skill and ruthless efficiency that even Joon-Ho's former allies spoke it with fear. This was the name the martial world knew him by, and the name that would guarantee Hyun's swift execution if it was ever linked to him.
Joon-Ho explained that the "Devil" name was attached to a unique, highly distinctive martial technique he created: the Flickering Shadow Steps, a blindingly fast movement skill, and the Iron Will Palm, a devastatingly precise internal energy attack. Both were instantly recognizable. He cautioned Hyun that even subconsciously imitating the movement patterns could betray his identity, so he had to train himself to use completely different, clumsy movements in public.
Hyun felt a profound sense of isolation. His father had not just given him a powerful body, he had given him a deadly target painted on his back. The loving memory of his father, the accountant, became a crucial tool: Hyun had to consciously act as if he had no past, no discipline, and certainly no terrifying latent skill. He was no longer just an orphan; he was an actor in the most dangerous play of his life.
The remaining time until the Selection was consumed by dual training. By day, Hyun practiced weakness. He purposely stumbled while carrying water, exaggerated his breathing, and learned to use his physical strength only when absolutely necessary and unseen. He cultivated a soft, slightly fearful demeanor, perfecting the role of a powerless boy resigned to his fate.
By night, the forest outskirts became his secret sanctuary, where he trained until his small body trembled. He focused relentlessly on two things: the Quiet Heart Meridian Flow for energy refinement and Breath Control. The goal wasn't to generate more power—it was to become a black hole for energy signatures, a perfectly ordinary vessel with an extraordinary engine hidden inside. He focused on suppressing the tell-tale hum of a cultivator's internal flow, wrapping his burgeoning Neigong in layers of controlled stillness.
One week before the Selection, Ahn, the innkeeper, pulled him aside in the storage shed. Her usual weariness was overlaid with sharp, desperate vigilance. She pressed a small, crude map of the Demon Peak's lower paths into his hand—paths used by villagers for firewood, paths she knew by heart. She revealed that the Cult had a minor supply depot in the foothills, a small, heavily guarded shed that she believed was used to store both the "tithing" and the valuable goods extorted from other villages.
"If you must go, boy, know this," she rasped, her hand trembling on his shoulder. "They value you only for your potential energy. They will not kill you immediately. Use that time. Survive the entrance. Find others." She gave him a new name, a name that sounded utterly forgettable and weak: Ji-Woon, meaning 'wise cloud'—a tragically hopeful name for a child who was about to walk into hell.
The most difficult task remained: separating from Snow. Hyun took the white cub deep into the Jirisan Forest, far beyond the village's borders. He couldn't risk Snow's magnificent, otherworldly presence being seen. It would instantly shatter his facade of being a simple, human orphan. Snow, sensing the gravity of the moment, whined and pressed its face against Hyun's small neck, its soft white fur brushing his cheek.
"Wait for me, Snow," Hyun whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Stay hidden. Do not hunt near the path. When I return, we will leave this place forever." He left a small, crude signaling mechanism: a pile of unique stones arranged near a specific spring. If the arrangement was changed, Snow would know to flee deeper into the woods. If he returned and found it unchanged, he would know the cub was safe. The silence of the forest seemed to mourn their separation.
Hyun returned to the Inn, feeling the stark emptiness of Snow's absence like a physical wound. But that emptiness was instantly replaced by cold, calculated resolve. He was Ji-Woon, the fearful, weak orphan. The Devil of the Battlefield was buried deep within him, wrapped in the quiet strength of his father's love and his mother's sacrifice. He was ready for the Selection.