The next day, I went to the Black Fist training ground.

Naturally, I expected the Black Fist to have the fewest members since they were the most skilled.

But when I arrived, the Black Fist actually had the largest number of members. This was thanks to Kwon-ma’s efforts. He had laid a solid foundation and continually discovered those worthy of becoming Black Fist practitioners.

These were the true Iron Fists. There were capable people everywhere who could easily lead elite teams or serve as grandmasters of the main sect.

Their gazes toward me varied—from curious looks to outright hostility. The reason for the hostility was simple: these were Black Fist who had trained for seven or eight years at minimum, some over a decade.

Yet, I had broken through the Three Fists and risen to Black Fist in just a little over ten days. How could they feel good about that? Some among them might be wondering if the Great Prince intends to become Kwon-ma.

Among them was one person who stood out.

A woman with her hair tightly tied back, her hands and wrists wrapped in bandages. Her fierce eyes were captivating.

I knew who she was.

Cheon So-hee.

She was the next Kwon-ma.

With her slender figure and small fists, she would overcome all competition among the Black Fist here and inherit the position of Kwon-ma.

After the main sect was sealed by Hwa-mu-gi, Kwon-ma would hand over the title of Ma Jon to her and go into seclusion.

Kwon-ma never managed to break the cliff. Though he had devoted his life to martial training, he never reached the level to shatter the cliff with a single fist.

Had he reached that level, perhaps he would have gone to Hwa-mu-gi for revenge. I hadn’t known then, but now I realized it.

With my regression, everyone’s fate and relationships were changing.

Therefore, I must not evaluate these people by old standards. I must see them with new perspectives and criteria.

Just look at Blood Heaven Butcher and Geukak Soma—if I died to Hwa-mu-gi, would they just stand by? I doubted it.

“I’ve heard that Great Prince passed the Jeokkwon easily.”

A man who approached and spoke to me was Do Gang. Like Cheon So-hee, I knew this man as well.

Do Gang had competed with Cheon So-hee for the successor position until the very end but left the sect after losing.

“May I ask a question on behalf of the Black Fist?”

“Ask as many as you like.”

“Why did you come to Dongkwon Gate? Why learn boxing?”

“If you worry I might take the position you’ve devoted your lives to, you need not. I have not come to become Kwon-ma.”

I calmly told them.

“I am the one who will be your Cheonma.”

Because of what I had done since regression, no one showed signs of disrespect. They probably wouldn’t dare speak carelessly, considering the possibility of me becoming Cheonma.

Yet, no one went out of their way to curry favor with me either. Dongkwon Gate was still largely on Great Prince’s side.

“When I become Cheonma, one of you will be Kwon-ma. I look forward to working well with you in advance.”

Do Gang asked again.

“Why come here if you’re to be Cheonma?”

“To become stronger. To learn boxing and grow stronger.”

These words also boosted the pride of the Iron Fists—they were trying to become stronger by learning the boxing they practiced.

Among the gazes fixed on me was Cheon So-hee’s. Aside from her exceptional energy, especially her eyes were impressive—a determined look that wouldn’t give up once she set a goal, much like Kwon-ma.

“I look forward to working with you, next Kwon-ma!”

At that moment, Kwon-ma appeared. As with previous training sessions, he didn’t pay special attention to me.

“Let’s begin.”

At Kwon-ma’s words, training started.

The Black Fist focused their training on basic forms. Kwon-ma valued basics and emphasized executing precise techniques above all.

I carefully observed the Black Fist’s movements.

On the first day, I only observed. I could have demonstrated if necessary, but I thought that wouldn’t be the best choice for either the Black Fist or myself.

Thus, the first day passed with only observation.

On the next day, I again just watched.

The Black Fist were full of pride, thinking, “Yes, this is different from Jeokkwon, right?”

Kwon-ma sent me a telepathic message:

—You must have already mastered this, why don’t you follow along?

—I must preserve the pride and morale of the Black Fist.

—When have you ever cared?

—They will be my subordinates someday, so I must.

From afar, I saw Kwon-ma sneer.

On the third day, after training ended and everyone dispersed, Cheon So-hee approached Geom Mu-geuk.

When Mu-geuk said on the first day that he was to be their Cheonma, something welled up inside her.

She had devoted her life to martial arts and completely given up on romance. So this was not about feelings between a man and a woman. It was some other kind of fateful attraction. She came to confirm what that was.

“I’m Cheon So-hee.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I heard you learned your forms just by watching the Jeokkwon.”

“That’s right.”

“You can’t learn Black Fist forms just by watching.”

“Certainly, it’s incomparably difficult.”

“Then why don’t you ask to be taught?”

Geom Mu-geuk gave an unexpected answer.

“I’ve already learned them all.”

Had this been anyone else, I might not have said it so honestly, but to Cheon So-hee, I spoke sincerely. I wanted to share a different connection with her.

Cheon So-hee flinched, then a faint smirk crossed her lips. She was certain that one cannot master by watching alone.

A pointless pride almost escaped from my lips, but I stopped it.

“I’m curious—are you really that sharp-eyed, or just bluffing?”

I said this kindly. If she was bluffing, such advice wouldn’t help anyway; if I were wrong, then I’d be the one making a mistake.

“Then I’ll be going.”

As she took a few steps, Geom Mu-geuk called out from behind.

“If what I say is true, grant me one favor.”

She turned and asked,

“If I’m bluffing?”

“I’ll grant your favor.”

“All right.”

She said it without hesitation, so she was certain it was a bluff.

Wondering what favor she might want, Cheon So-hee left, simultaneously disappointed that it was not some fateful attraction after all.

Her disappointment lasted only a day.

The next day, I demonstrated in front of everyone exactly the forms the Black Fist had learned. When I executed the forms precisely, everyone was shocked. Especially Cheon So-hee’s surprise was the greatest.

—You really learned just by watching?

Her telepathic message came flying.

—I told you so.

Her pupils trembled. How could she know? I had passed through So-cheondong in a day, which normally took an average of three years or even two months for my father. It wasn’t a secret martial art of Kwon-ma’s but the boxing that the Black Fist learned, and I could perform it just by watching.

—Don’t forget the favor.

—Of course. I always keep my promises.

Kwon-ma called me forward.

“Come out here.”

For the first time, Kwon-ma placed me before the Iron Fists.

“Do you know why I allowed you to train?”

“Why?”

Then Kwon-ma’s gaze shifted toward the Black Fist.

“These kids have never fought a true master. Do you want to show them what the martial world is really like?”

Surprisingly, he meant to let me experience real combat.

Of course, the Black Fist had plenty of experience. Like other Ma Jons, Kwon-ma had duties for the sect, and these Black Fist mostly went out to the Central Plains to deal with matters. They had likely experienced actual combat several times.

But they had never met a true master.

Our eyes met. He truly cared about his subordinates. His words were right. Kwon-ma was smarter than he looked. Purely obsessed with martial arts.

“They don’t know fear yet.”

It was a rare comment from the undefeated Kwon-ma, aimed at his overly proud subordinates. Seeing such sentiment from him,

“Then let me teach them.”

When I readily agreed, Kwon-ma brightened.

“Should I pick about twenty to fight? Or ten?”

He felt sorry to make so many face me. This was certainly a difficult request and very taxing to accept.

“No, if we’re doing it, I’ll fight them all.”

Joy and gratitude briefly flashed across the stern face of that terrifying Kwon-ma. It was an odd, rare expression. Seeing this was worth the tuition alone.

When I glanced at the Black Fist, my energy had already turned cold.

“There are many kinds of masters: adequate masters, strong masters, and true masters. First, let’s start with adequate masters. Come one at a time.”

One by one, the Black Fist stepped forward, faces brimming with confidence. Though they didn’t expect to beat me, they had the will not to lose easily.

I sent Kwon-ma a telepathic message.

—These are your students; is that okay?

—They’re a ragtag bunch. That’s the whole point of this gathering.

I faced them one by one.

“The one you face now has the skill to lose to you in about thirty moves.”

The Black Fist opponent showed a determination that things wouldn’t go his way. He might want to show me what he’s made of—show the unexpected guest a real taste of his fists. And that too, in front of Kwon-ma.

Understanding that feeling well, I faced him without breaking his pride. Even if I won, I wouldn’t trample on his dignity.

The first Black Fist struck quickly with a punch barrage. His basics were solid and confidence high. His footwork was especially good. Warriors trained in boxing are usually skilled in footwork.

The first Black Fist bled from his side at about the thirtieth move. The wound wasn’t deep, only a light bleed.

“Well learned.”

He bowed respectfully and stepped back. Though bleeding, he looked satisfied with the real fight after a long time. Who wouldn’t find the sparring meaningful against such a challenger?

The second Black Fist also bled from the side at exactly thirty moves. The third as well.

Then the waiting Black Fist murmured and wavered.

They tried to endure, but they didn’t last past thirty moves nor avoid the sword striking their sides.

Because they saw their comrade suffer, they should have prepared. But they didn’t.

At the thirtieth move, the skill didn’t suddenly increase to cut them down; the speed and strength were the same as before, but without fail, at the thirtieth move, they allowed the sword to strike their sides. That was why they were all surprised.

One shared emotion dominated all.

How can this be?

Only one person—Cheon So-hee, who went last—barely avoided it, and instead of the side, was cut on the thigh at the thirty-first move. Among them, she showed the most remarkable skill.

Her eyes watching me had changed. No longer “Let’s see what happens,” but “What will you show us now?”

“So far, you’ve been thirty-move masters. Now, I am a master who can kill you in ten moves.”

The Black Fist steeled themselves and came out one by one. This time, I fought much faster.

“This is what a ten-move master feels like.”

I pressed them rapidly and roughly. Although thirty and ten moves might not seem very different, the feeling to those receiving it was on a whole other level.

All were shocked and flustered.

With their skill, they were confident they °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° could thrash anyone.

But when ten moves passed in a blur, the sword was suddenly pointed at their necks. In an instant, the sword stabbed the heart. The sharp blade tapped their arms. Had I not held back, their necks would have been cut, hearts pierced, arms severed.

None of their initial confidence or arrogance remained. This was likely the feeling Kwon-ma wanted his subordinates to experience—not to mock them as mere Black Fist. That there were masters who could tear through the swords and uniforms they had painstakingly earned in a moment.

Thus, I gave everyone the shock of the ten-move master.

Their surprise wasn’t just at the swordsmanship. While facing so many in succession, I didn’t even breathe heavily.

It was time to end the session.

“Now, I am a one-move master. Rare and difficult to meet, but certainly existing in this martial world.”

At the mention of one-move master, everyone tensed.

They tried to step forward one by one, but this time, I changed how I faced them.

I fully unleashed my energy. My energy controlled the space and drew the Black Fist into the depths of a deep sea. Even the Black Fist stepping forward felt suffocated and unconsciously stepped back several paces.

With a smooth motion,

The Black Demon Sword drew itself out.

Shing!

Then it began to split apart in front of my chest.

In an instant, it split into twenty parts. The Black Fist were aghast. It was their first time seeing a sword-shaped energy splitting like that.

Shhh shhh shhh shhh shhh shhh shhh!

The sword energies shot out like light in all directions.

Screams erupted from all sides.

The sword-shaped energies stopped right before the faces of the Black Fist at the front. They flew too fast to dodge. None of them could block my Yucheon Technique, which had reached the Twelve Star Great Accomplishment.

They all stared in shock at the sword-shaped energies floating before their eyes.

What they didn’t know was that stopping the sword energies right in front of their faces simultaneously was a far more difficult, advanced technique. Only Kwon-ma was likely thinking that far.

The brilliant cluster of lights scattered, and all the sword energies disappeared before their eyes.

The real Black Demon Sword that had floated in midair was now in front of Cheon So-hee. The real sword had been aimed at her—the strongest among the Black Fist. It was a gesture of consideration and respect. And I had put my heart into the sword.

What you see now is reality. From now on, the swords flying at you will never vanish before your eyes. Please do not forget this moment.

The Black Demon Sword that had been hovering in front of her sliced through the air and returned to me. It slid back into its sheath by itself.

Hearing the clear metallic “click,” I calmly said to the Black Fist,

“You are all dead.”