The Fist Master was at the Great Martial Training Ground.

Dozens /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ of Iron Fists were practicing fist techniques, and the Fist Master stood before them with his arms crossed.

Invincible Fist Master, Dan Woo-gang (段佑强).

Known as the strongest in fist techniques with not a single defeat.

He was about a head taller than me, and his entire body was muscular. His bronze skin looked as hard as steel, seeming impervious even to blades. Especially his fists—they were unusually large, without exaggeration about the size of a woman’s head.

The phrase “the body itself is a weapon” could be applied perfectly to the Invincible Fist Master.

And most strikingly, his face was truly terrifying. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say the demons depicted in the sect’s paintings or statues were modeled after his visage. A face that makes you think, if the Great Martial Battle takes place, the vanguard must surely be led by this Fist Master. How many in the martial world would dare to meet that face head-on?

The Fist Master slowly turned his head and looked at me.

I didn’t care what he was thinking now. His appearance was so chilling that even now, his expression was at least challenging me to a fight.

Of course, I have no prejudice about appearances. How many times in my life have I seen appearances not match a person’s nature? There are so many who smile and kill without hesitation despite looking normal.

I bowed politely and greeted.

“I pay my respects to the Fist Master.”

But the Fist Master did not greet me back; instead, he looked back at the Iron Fists. It was a deliberate act of ignoring me, but I didn’t mind.

If this were the past, I would have found meaning in this and felt insulted, but not now. Don’t get upset. Please don’t get upset. Looking back, it was nothing.

If this is how they respond on the first visit, there must be a reason.

I stood to the side and watched the Iron Fists train in fist techniques.

Under the blazing sun, the Iron Fists stood motionless like statues in one stance. It was as if the world would end if they moved. Surely no one would dare move while that terrifying Fist Master was watching.

A suffocating tension filled the air, but fortunately, no one made a mistake noticeable to the Fist Master.

How much time passed?

At the lead warrior’s shout, the Iron Fists moved into the next posture. One of their outstretched fists moved toward the waist as their body twisted sideways.

Again, they held another stance and became statues, with no end in sight. Each movement was performed with utmost care.

I thought this was proper training. Of course, how many would truly understand and make this deep meaning their own was another matter.

After an hour, the training ended.

All the Iron Fists dispersed, and the Fist Master walked away to his quarters. He ignored me thoroughly until the end.

He must have heard various rumors about me recently, so this thorough ignoring could be considered a kind of communication.

I imagined that terrifying face smiling brightly at me. I pictured us joking together.

Fist Master, if you treat me like this, I’m the kind of person who imagines things like that.

The next day, I came again to see the Fist Master.

But today, just like the first day, he glanced at me once and silently watched the Iron Fists train.

Again, I was ignored, but no one mocked me. This discipline must have come from fear of the Fist Master, and among all the Ma Jons I had seen so far, these Iron Fists seemed the most disciplined.

Only when the training ended did the Fist Master finally speak to me.

“Eegongja.”

His voice was surprisingly gentle compared to his terrifying face. I had expected a heavy and cold tone, but it was softer than expected. It felt like he only moved his lips while someone else behind him spoke.

“Why do you think I acted like that yesterday?”

“Is it because I visited during training?”

The Fist Master turned away as if my answer was wrong and walked off with long strides. He wasn’t going to make it easy, huh? I smiled lightly watching his back.

The next day, I visited the Fist Master again.

Though I came to him, it was he who led me to visit.

This time, I came at a different time, before training began. Sitting on the railing in front of the building with the office, passing Iron Fists glanced at me as they went by.

Though ignored by the Fist Master, none of the Iron Fists showed disdain. Instead, there was subtle kindness and respect. I must have been a completely different person compared to when I first returned.

Then the Fist Master came out of the building.

“Did you sleep well?”

He glanced at me and then walked silently. I followed him toward the Great Martial Training Ground.

“I thought carefully about the reason yesterday. Is it because I’m not the first Ma Jon you’ve visited?”

I had met and connected with all the others except the Poison King, making him the seventh.

The Fist Master stopped, looked at me with his fierce face, and asked,

“Do I look like a narrow-minded person?”

“Then I must be narrow-minded. I’d be very angry if I were you.”

The Fist Master said nothing more and walked off. Watching him go, I shouted,

“I’ll come again tomorrow.”

But I didn’t see the Fist Master the next day.

Only the Iron Fists trained at the Great Martial Training Ground. I watched their training until the end and then left.

For three days in a row, I came up empty. I couldn’t tell if he was deliberately avoiding me or had business elsewhere.

‘Is this how he will be?’

These Ma Jons are all troublesome and difficult. There really isn’t an easy opponent.

As I turned away, one Iron Fist passed by and whispered to me,

“The Ma Jon is at the Small Martial Training Ground now.”

When I looked at him as if to ask why he was telling me, he spoke softly.

“Recently, our family received great help because of what was done at the Yellow Heaven Pavilion.”

After saying that, he bowed and left. It must have been burdensome to tell me, but they were very grateful for what happened at Yellow Heaven Pavilion.

—Thank you.

I sent my gratitude to him via telepathic message as he walked away.

I then went to the Small Martial Training Ground.

There, the Fist Master sat alone, lost in thought. Although this large, burly man didn’t seem suited to meditation, surprisingly, he was sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed.

I quietly spoke from behind him. I omitted everything about the three days of coming up empty or how I found this place, speaking as if I had just seen him yesterday.

“Is your reluctance to accept me because of your brother? You’ve decided to support your brother already, so you don’t want to break that conviction, right?”

After a pause, the Fist Master opened his eyes and said,

“Is that such a great conviction that you’d mistreat someone for it? All the people who ruin the world have wrong convictions.”

His words surprised me. Judging by his appearance, I thought once he made a decision, he’d stick to it until death.

“Then you might support me instead of your brother?”

The Fist Master closed his eyes again, as if no longer willing to continue the conversation.

I bowed politely.

“I will come back tomorrow with an answer.”

I understood. He was testing me in a way. Otherwise, he would have simply told me not to come. Not bad at all. Seeing each other often will surely reveal the answer to our relationship.

After leaving the East Fist Gate, I headed to Namdo Clan to meet Blood Heaven Butcher.

Strangely, Blood Heaven Butcher was also sitting outside, lost in thought.

“Is today the day for all the Ma Jons to meditate? Then I must meditate, too.”

I sat beside him.

Blood Heaven Butcher spoke softly with his eyes closed.

“After all this stabbing and cutting, you don’t know how to deal with punches, do you?”

He knew my situation exactly.

“How did you know?”

“How would I not? There’s a widespread rumor that you’ve been going in and out of East Fist Gate lately.”

“The rumors spread fast. Gossips!”

“That’s how you lose every fish you catch.”

“It’s fine. I’ll catch again. Only seven anyway, so I have to enjoy catching them.”

“Why seven?”

I quietly stared at Blood Heaven Butcher.

“Have you already caught them?”

Blood Heaven Butcher’s words made me laugh loudly. He laughed too, amused by what he said.

“I actually came to see you about that. What kind of person is the Fist Master?”

“Usually, fist fighters are uneducated, but the Fist Master is smart. Very smart.”

A smart Fist Master. That explained why Drunken Demon said he wouldn’t easily defeat him without serious resolve, and why my father said it was evenly matched despite being a 4-3.

“A smart man’s punches hurt more.”

“Do you regret it? That you should have caught him before me?”

“First, I should say this. I don’t know exactly what kind of person the Fist Master is, but this is certain. The first butcher you get beats the top ten fists!”

I never regret flattering Blood Heaven Butcher. Sometimes when you flatter people, you wonder what you’re doing, but never with Blood Heaven Butcher.

He doesn’t worry. Not because he’s treated like a caught fish, but because I genuinely like him. When I asked him to be my left wing, it was because I needed a Ma Jon.

But now it doesn’t matter whether he’s a Ma Jon or not, or even if he’s just a stableman of the main sect. It doesn’t matter if he has no influence on me becoming the successor. I like the man Blood Heaven Butcher himself. As long as this feeling doesn’t change, I don’t have to worry about our relationship.

“Do you know why the leader likes the Fist Master?”

“Your father likes the Fist Master?”

“He doesn’t say it openly, but he probably likes him the most among the Ma Jons.”

“Why does he like him?”

“The Fist Master is obsessed with martial arts.”

Then there’s nothing more to say. He met the top condition my father likes best.

“Not just obsessed, but purely obsessed.”

“And yet you say he’s smart? Impressive.”

“Impressive indeed. The man met his match.”

“It’s good you have elders. Without them, who would I get advice from, and how would I live?”

“You’ll live fine. Drinking with Drunken Demon, hanging out with Geukak Soma.”

Blood Heaven Butcher was jealous of the other Ma Jons, but he shared generous information about the Fist Master.

“Isn’t that true?”

“If I need to meditate again, I’ll come see you. I’ll bring the Fist Master too.”

“Please do!”

I left Blood Heaven Butcher’s place.

The next day, I went again to see the Invincible Fist Master.

He wasn’t at the Great Martial Training Ground nor at the Small Martial Training Ground. After searching here and there, I found him by a cliff inside East Fist Gate. I knew the main sect was vast, with lakes and all sorts of things, but I hadn’t known there was a cliff here.

“Did you sleep well?”

He didn’t respond to my greeting today either. But that didn’t matter. The fact that I could roam freely in East Fist Gate meant he didn’t completely dislike my visits.

I stood beside him and looked up at the cliff.

“I think I’ve finally found the answer. But promise me one thing. You won’t get angry when you hear my answer. Or, even if you do get angry, you won’t hit me with that fist.”

The Fist Master looked at me slowly. He didn’t verbally promise, but that look was enough.

“You wanted to show your subordinates that you’re someone who can easily ignore an Eegongja. Not that you support the Great Successor and want them to know, but that you truly don’t care about your successor’s fight, right?”

Was that the right answer? Like before, he didn’t drive me away, and his gaze returned to the cliff.

I stopped obsessing over the right answer and looked at the cliff with him.

“I didn’t know there was a cliff like this on campus. If I climbed up there, I could see the whole sect.”

“The cliff isn’t meant to be climbed.”

“Then what is it for?”

Then came a surprising answer.

“This cliff is meant to be destroyed by this fist. In a single blow!”

I was genuinely shocked by his words.

“You think it’s an impossible goal?”

No matter who the Fist Master is, it would be impossible to destroy this cliff in one strike. Even my father couldn’t.

“No, I was just thinking why I never had such a specific goal.”

I never had a concrete goal in martial arts. Of course, that was because Hwa Mugi had the position.

It was the first time in a long while I’d heard a warrior speak about a specific goal. It stirred something in my chest.

“May I join you in this goal?”

“Try cutting the cliff with a sword?”

“No. I want to try destroying it with my fists too.”

The Fist Master was startled this time. He surely never expected that answer from me.

But I was sincere. If I could destroy this cliff with my fists, I thought I could defeat Hwa Mugi. No, beyond that, I just wanted to challenge myself as a martial artist once. I told the Fist Master with a terrifying, demon-like face.

“Please teach me your fist techniques.”