I didn’t expect this either, not even the Invincible Fist Master.

That I would say something like this to him. But the moment I heard his words about destroying the cliff with a single strike, something inside me ignited.

It was a fierce desire to throw my own fist into his impossible challenge.

His eyes, which had been fixed on mine, shifted to my hand.

“With those baby hands?”

Ah, so the day will come when my hands are called baby hands.

“They are quite small and cute compared to yours, Master Fist, but in the human world, these hands are considered fairly well made.”

“Stop with the nonsense and go back.”

A cold wind blew as the Fist Master left without another word.

I looked up at the cliff again.

If a fist capable of bringing down this cliff with one blow flew at it, would the Body-Strengthening Steel Qi be able to hold?

I clenched my fist tighter.

That afternoon, I went to see my father and played a game of Go after a long time.

The clear sound of each stone being placed calmed my mind. Perhaps playing Go with my father was so peaceful because it resembled martial combat. When on the fighting stage or during a game of Go, no words are needed between opponents.

“I lost.”

In the last game we played, I had won by two points, but today I lost by six points. Seeing the uncontrollable smile at the corner of his mouth, I thought he was incorrigible. Whether it was Go or martial arts, he hated losing.

“Learn Go from Commander Sama when you have time.”

“I will.”

“Why did you come today?”

My father had already guessed. That I had come with a purpose.

“Can you tell a person’s intention just by looking at them?”

“You played unusually impatient moves today. Beginners always reveal themselves.”

“Beginners? You won for the first time today, you know.”

I felt quietly pleased. It meant my father cared about my feelings even while playing.

“I have something I want your permission for.”

“What is it?”

“I want to learn fist techniques from the Fist Master. Please allow me.”

As if he had expected it, my father showed no special reaction.

“If you want to learn, you should learn. Why do you need my permission?”

“Of course I should tell you and get your permission.”

“And if I don’t allow it?”

“I’ll work harder to get your permission.”

I spoke honestly to my father.

“At first, my intent was a feint—to test how my brother would respond if I challenged the Fist Master. But the Fist Master said today that his goal is to bring down the cliff with one strike.”

My father seemed to already know that goal. He wasn’t surprised by what I said.

“That goal broke down not the cliff, but my guard. I thought it was amazing, and I wanted to bring down the cliff too.”

“That’s your chronic weakness. A naïve sentiment, perfect for dying.”

When he first said that, he called it a ‘cheap sentiment perfect for dying.’ Now the cheapness was gone, replaced by naïveté. That difference alone meant I had grown closer to my father.

“That naïveté can also work as an advantage. Because of it, I gained Ma Jons.”

“Gained? Do you really think the Ma Jons are truly on your side?”

My father trusted no one. Perhaps his mindset was essential for a sect leader.

“Except for a parent’s heart for their child, there’s no absolute loyalty in this world. I’m just trying not to create situations that would change the Ma Jons’ minds.”

People rarely change their hearts suddenly. People change because situations change.

“Do you know? When you become entangled with the Fist Master through martial arts, there will come a moment when you must fight him. He never accepts defeat. Then results may come out different from your intention.”

He said this because he knew the Fist Master’s personality well. Trying to get close might make things worse.

“What if I win?”

“His goal won’t be the cliff but you.”

After a pause, I said to my father,

“Isn’t living as someone else’s goal worth experiencing at least once?”

My father looked at me for a moment and nodded.

“The Fist Master will need the proper hand form and fixed path.”

He meant no tricks, no shortcuts—do your best with proper technique. His permission was granted.

“Thank you.”

I bowed respectfully to my father and turned away. Behind me, he said,

“From now on, I’m the White Stone.”

“You have to win three games in a row.”

“That rule changed today.”

What can you do when the Heavenly Demon changes the rules?

“Then I must teach my soldiers Go as soon as possible.”

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

After skipping a few days of training, today he was watching the Iron Fists train.

His reaction to me was the same as the first day. He glanced at me and turned his gaze back to the Iron Fists. But our relationship was definitely different from the first day.

“May I learn alongside the Iron Fists?”

The Fist Master looked at me. His face was still grim. To others, it might seem like a murderous glare, but I could read the emotions in his eyes.

Do you really want to learn fist techniques from me?

I answered with a resolute gaze.

Yes.

The Fist Master looked at me with a dismissive expression, then nodded. He wanted to see how I would do.

“Thank you.”

I put down my sword and copied the Iron Fists’ stances.

It was the first time in my life learning fist techniques. Even before regression, I had never learned them. Fighting without a sword in hand? Hard to imagine.

The Iron Fists’ eyes passing over me were full of surprise.

The Heavenly Demon’s Eegongja declared he would learn fist techniques with them, so there’d be no need for snacks at tonight’s drinking party.

The Fist Master taught me nothing.

I mimicked the Iron Fists’ movements. This technique, practiced by dozens, could not be the Invincible Fist Master’s secret fist method. It must be the basic fist techniques of the East Fist Gate warriors.

That was better. I was well aware that fist techniques capable of bringing down mountains stemmed from these basic movements.

I took the movements precisely.

Having watched their training for days, and with dozens practicing the same stances before me, if one moved incorrectly, more took the correct form. Thanks to that, I could take the correct stance.

After that first day of training, everyone quietly dispersed. I left as if I were one of them.

I participated in training the next day as well.

The Iron Fists of East Fist Gate were divided into four groups by skill.

White Fists wore white uniforms (Baekkwon 白拳), Blue Fists wore blue (Cheongkwon 靑拳), Red Fists wore red (Jeokkwon 赤拳), and Black Fists wore black (Heukkwon 黑拳).

I was training with the White Fists. But do not underestimate the White Fists—they had all passed the threshold to enter East Fist Gate, meaning none were novices.

Was training with White Fists a waste of time? Not at all. It was better to build from the basics.

My martial arts level was such that I could anticipate dozens of variations from a single small movement.

From a ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) basic punch, I pictured dozens of scenarios and anticipated changes. The Wind God’s Guard (Pungsinsa-bo) combined with the moves I was performing merged in my mind. It harmonized brilliantly with Flying Sword Technique, so naturally it formed a fantastic synergy with fist techniques.

I was focused on training in fist techniques, but the Fist Master still seemed unconvinced. I read it in his expression.

He probably thought, “You’ll last a month? A year?”

So he just gave me a disdainful look.

But I was the opponent. The next day, I even asked a question.

“I have a question!”

Everyone was startled. Come to think of it, I had never seen questions asked during training. They only took the stances commanded.

I must have been the first to ask a question.

The Fist Master was also surprised. Surely he didn’t expect me to question him.

“In the ‘Hidden Tiger Emerges’ (伏虎出現) move, when rotating the right foot, how much freedom is allowed for the left foot?”

Everyone kept the left foot firmly fixed, but I thought slight movement would be more effective.

A ripple ran through the group. Is that allowed? How dare he ask? How will the Fist Master respond? Will this bring trouble upon us? All sorts of feelings filled the air.

But unexpectedly, the Fist Master answered without objection.

“If your body doesn’t wobble after the final rotation, there is no restriction on the left foot.”

Satisfied with the clear answer, I performed the move as instructed.

My left foot moved just enough to lift slightly, to connect to the next move faster. For now, I was drilling each movement separately, but in real combat continuous movements mattered.

For the first time, the Iron Fists’ eyes turned to me. They didn’t yet realize this was not just a change in a move, but a change long overdue in East Fist Gate training.

I came to the training ground again the next day, and the day after that.

I didn’t ask questions just for the sake of it. Only when genuinely curious. When I asked, the Iron Fists listened. They were curious but dared not ask, so I asked for them. After training, some Iron Fists even greeted me.

Five days had passed. I executed the moves with the most proper form among the Iron Fists. Some even asked me about the movements after training.

On the seventh day,

Although official training had ended, I stayed behind alone to continue training. I was immersing myself in a new world led by fist techniques. Leaving aside my current situation, learning fist techniques itself was fun.

I felt the Fist Master watching me, but I ignored it and focused on the moves. I concentrated solely on the fist I extended.

What must this fist carry to bring down the cliff?

Finally, the Fist Master spoke.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I told you I want to learn fist techniques from you.”

“Are you really going to become my disciple?”

“If you accept me.”

The Fist Master flinched. No son of the Heavenly Demon had ever become a Ma Jon’s disciple before.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am serious. I already have my father’s permission.”

“You have the sect leader’s permission?”

“I do.”

That moment, the Fist Master understood my determination was no joke.

“Do you know what kind of man I am?”

“I don’t know well. But the moment you said your goal was to bring down the cliff, I became captivated by you.”

Half sincerity, half flattery.

“Do you think that cheap trick will work? Do you think I’ll support you as successor?”

“Don’t have to. No, please don’t. You may have heard rumors, but my goal is to end this successor selection without bloodshed. I’m glad you’re here to support my brother. You’ll stop him if he crosses the line.”

“Why do you think I’ll stop him?”

“Because you’re the one who wants to bring down the cliff with bare fists. You know well that the moment dirty plots or schemes enter that fist, the cliff will never fall.”

“!”

“If anyone can beat the brother who’s rampaging madly over the successor fight, it’s you. If either he or I cross the line, please stop them. Hit hard with that fist.”

I didn’t avoid the displeased and fierce glare he gave me. You’re obsessed with martial arts? I’m probably just as obsessed with one path as you are.

The next moment,

That huge fist was right in front of my face.

He threw it so fast that no wind sound came. It was as if the fist had always been there, right in front of my face.

The sound came after.

Huuuaaaaang!

An immense gust of wind came from behind.

Kkwaaang!

A huge hole was punched in the wall far behind me.

Astonishingly, the fist stopped just in front of my face, but completely blasted away everything behind me. A truly magnificent and superb technique.

The Fist Master coldly stared at me—who hadn’t even flinched at the flying fist—and silently turned away.

I stood there, watching his retreating back.

The more you do this, the fiercer the flames in my heart will burn.

At the path’s end, the Fist Master stopped.

“From tomorrow, come to the Blue Fist training ground.”