Chapter 182: I Have a Question!
Chapter 182: I Have a Question!
The Undefeated Fist Demon likely didn't know, and neither did I.
I never imagined I would say such things to him. But the moment I heard him declare his intent to collapse a cliff with a single strike, something ignited within my heart.
It was a burning desire to pit my own fist against that impossible challenge.
The Fist Demon, who had been staring into my eyes, shifted his gaze to my hands.
"With those baby hands?"
Ah, so the day has finally come when my hands are called "baby hands."
"They are quite small and delicate compared to yours, Lord Fist Demon, but in the world of men, they’re considered a fine pair to be born with."
"Stop talking nonsense and leave."
Radiating a cold aura, the Fist Demon turned and walked away.
I looked up at the cliff again.
If a fist capable of bringing this entire mass down in one blow were to fly at me, would my Body Protection Qi be able to withstand it?
I tightened my grip, strength surging into my clenched fists.
*
That afternoon, I visited my father and played a game of Go for the first time in a long while.
The crisp clack of the stones being placed, one by one, calmed my mind. Perhaps the reason playing Go with my father felt so comfortable was because it resembled a martial arts duel. Once you step onto the sparring arena or start a game of Go, no words are needed between opponents.
"I concede."
In our last match, I had won by two points, but today I finally lost by six. Seeing the irrepressible smile on my father’s lips, I couldn't help but think he was truly something else. Whether it was Go or martial arts, my father was a man who couldn't stand to lose.
"When you have time, learn some Go from Strategist Sama."
"I should do that."
"Why did you come today?"
Father had already noticed. He knew I had come because I had business with him.
"Do you just get a feeling when you see people?"
"You played unusually impatient moves today. Amateurs always leave a trail."
"An amateur! You only just won for the first time today."
Internally, I felt good. It meant my father had been paying close attention to my state of mind while we played.
"There is something I wish to ask your permission for, Father."
"What is it?"
"I am thinking of learning fist techniques from the Fist Demon. Please grant me your permission."
As if he had expected it, Father showed no particular reaction.
"If you want to learn, then learn. Why do you need my permission?"
"Naturally, I should tell you before I begin. I must have your approval."
"And if I don't give it?"
"Then I must work harder to earn it."
I revealed my honest feelings to him.
"At first, my intention was largely 'creating a feint in the east to strike in the west.' I wanted to see how my brother would react if I prodded the Fist Demon. But today, the Fist Demon told me that his goal is to collapse a cliff with a single strike."
Father seemed to already know of that goal. He wasn't surprised by my words at all.
"At those words, it wasn't the cliff that collapsed, but my wariness. I thought it was magnificent, and I found myself wanting to collapse that cliff as well."
"That is your chronic weakness. A naive sentimentality that is perfect for getting yourself killed."
The very first time he said that, he called it "cheap sentimentality." Now, "cheap" had been removed, and "naive" had taken its place. Our relationship had grown closer by exactly that margin.
"That naivety sometimes acts as a strength. It’s thanks to that I’ve gained the Demon Lords."
"Gained? Do you truly believe the Demon Lords are on your side?"
Father truly trusted no one. Perhaps that mindset was a necessity for a Cult Leader who led the Cult.
"I believe there is no absolute heart in this world, save for a parent's love for their child. However, I am working hard to ensure the situation never arises where the Demon Lords' hearts might change."
People's hearts rarely change suddenly for no reason. It’s usually because the situation changes.
"Are you aware of this? If you become entangled with the Fist Demon through martial arts, a moment will inevitably come when you must clash with him. He has a personality that absolutely cannot stand to lose. That could lead to a result different from your intentions."
These were words he could offer because he knew the Fist Demon's personality well. He was warning me that trying to get close might actually make the relationship worse.
"What happens if I win?"
"Then his goal will become you, not the cliff."
After a brief pause, I spoke to my father.
"A life spent as someone's goal... wouldn't that be worth living at least once?"
Father stared at me for a moment, then nodded.
"The Fist Demon will need the proper way and the fixed path."
He was telling me not to rely on tricks or luck, but to do my best through orthodox means. His permission had been granted.
"Thank you."
As I bowed politely and turned to leave, Father spoke from behind me.
"From now on, I am playing the white stones."
"Don't you have to win three games in a row for that?"
"That rule has changed as of today."
Well, if the Heavenly Demon says he's changing it, what can I do?
"Then I must teach my strategist Go as soon as possible."
*
I visited the Fist Demon again the next day.
After skipping training for a few days, he was watching the Iron Fists train today.
His reaction to me was the same as the first day. A brief glance toward me, then his gaze returned to the Iron Fists. However, we were clearly standing in a different relationship than we had on that first day.
"May I learn alongside the Iron Fists?"
The Fist Demon looked at me. His face was as grim as ever. To anyone else, it would look like he was glaring as if he wanted to kill me, but I could read the emotion in his eyes.
Are you truly intending to learn fist techniques from me?
I answered with a gaze full of determination.
Yes.
The Fist Demon looked at me with a hint of mockery, then eventually nodded. It was an attitude of "let's see what you've got."
"Thank you."
I unfastened my sword, set it aside, and began to follow the postures of the Iron Fists.
It was the first time in my life I was learning a fist technique. Even before my regression, I had never learned one. Fighting with my hands instead of a sword? It wasn't something I could easily imagine.
The gazes of the Iron Fists passing over me were full of shock.
Since the Second Young Master of the Heavenly Demon had stepped forward to learn fist techniques with them, they wouldn't lack for conversation over their drinks tonight.
The Fist Demon taught me nothing.
I simply followed the movements of the Iron Fists. There was no way this martial art, being taught to dozens of people, was the Undefeated Fist Demon's unique technique. It was likely the basic fist technique learned by the warriors of the Eastern Fist Sect.
That was actually better. I knew better than anyone that even a technique capable of toppling Mount Tai originated from these basic movements.
I executed the movements precisely.
I had spent several days watching their training, and more importantly, dozens of people were performing the exact same postures right in front of me. Even if someone had the wrong posture, there were more people with the correct one. Thanks to that, I was able to adopt the precise forms.
When the first day of training ended, everyone dispersed quietly. I left the area as if I were just one of them.
I participated in the training the next day as well.
The Iron Fists of the Eastern Fist Sect were divided into four groups based on their skill level: The White Fists (白拳) who wore white martial robes, the Blue Fists (靑拳) in blue, the Red Fists (赤拳) in red, and the Black Fists (黑拳) in black.
The ones I was currently with were the White Fists. Of course, one shouldn't look down on them. The fact that they were able to enter the Eastern Fist Sect meant they were not amateurs.
Was training with the White Fists a waste of time? Not at all. If anything, it was better because I could solidify my foundations.
My martial realm was at a level where I could anticipate dozens of variations from a single small movement.
From a single basic movement of throwing a punch, I visualized dozens of situations and predicted changes. The Wind God Four Steps and the forms I was currently unfolding merged in my mind. Since the Wind God Four Steps had already merged brilliantly with the Flying Heaven Sword Technique, it naturally achieved a fantastic harmony with the fist technique as well.
I was engrossed in the training, but the Fist Demon still seemed not to trust me. I could read it in his expression.
No matter how hard you try, will you last a month? Will you last a year?
Because he held such thoughts, he only sent me mocking glances.
But his opponent was me. The next day, I even asked a question.
"I have a question!"
Everyone was startled by my shout. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen anyone ask a question during training. They only took the postures as they were told.
I suspect I was the first to ever ask.
The Fist Demon was equally surprised. He probably never imagined I would actually ask something.
"In this Crouching Tiger Emergence form, when rotating the right foot, how much freedom is allowed for the left foot?"
Everyone was keeping their left foot completely fixed, but in my opinion, it felt more effective to let it move slightly.
I felt a stir in the surroundings. Is this allowed? He dares to ask a question? How will the Fist Demon react? Will a lightning bolt fall on us for no reason? All sorts of emotions were palpable.
But unexpectedly, the Fist Demon answered the question without any sign of rejection.
"If your body does not wobble when you complete the final rotation, you do not need to place restrictions on the left foot."
At the Fist Demon's clear answer, I performed the form as he instructed.
My left foot moved enough to lift slightly, but it was to link into the next form as quickly as possible. While we were currently practicing each movement individually, continuous motion was what mattered in actual combat.
For the first time, the gazes of the Iron Fists turned toward me. They didn't realize it yet. What they were seeing wasn't just a variation in a form. It was a change in the long-stagnant training methods of the Eastern Fist Sect.
I returned to the training ground the next day, and the day after that.
I didn't ask questions just for the sake of asking. I asked things I was truly curious about, and whenever I did, the Iron Fists listened intently. In a way, I was asking the questions they were curious about but didn't dare to voice. Some Iron Fists even began to greet me after training.
When five days had passed, I was executing the forms with the most perfect posture among all the Iron Fists. Some even came to ask me about the movements after training was over.
It was the seventh day.
The official training had ended, but I remained behind alone to continue practicing. I was falling into a new world led by the fist. Setting aside my current situation, the act of learning the fist technique itself was fun.
I felt the Fist Demon watching me, but I didn't pay him any mind and focused on the forms. I concentrated solely on my extended fist.
What must be loaded into this fist to collapse a cliff?
Eventually, the watching Fist Demon spoke.
"What are you trying to do?"
"Did I not tell you I wanted to learn fist techniques from you, Lord Fist Demon?"
"Are you truly intending to become my disciple?"
"If you will have me."
The Fist Demon was visibly taken aback. A son of the Heavenly Demon had never become a disciple of a Demon Lord before.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, I am serious. I have already received my father's permission."
"The Cult Leader permitted it?"
"He did."
It was the moment the Fist Demon realized my resolve was no joke.
"Do you know what kind of person I am, to be doing this?"
"I don't know well. However, the moment you said your goal was to collapse a cliff, I think I became captivated by you."
It was half-sincerity, half-flattery.
"Do you think such cheap tricks will work? Do you think this will make me support you as the successor?"
"You don't have to. In fact, please don't. I don't know if you've heard the rumors, but my goal is to end this succession without my brothers shedding blood. That is why I find it reassuring that you are by my brother's side. Because you will stop him if he crosses the line."
"Why do you think I would stop him?"
"Because you are a man who tries to collapse a cliff with his bare fists. You know better than anyone that the moment foul conspiracies or schemes are held in that fist, the cliff will never fall."
"!"
"I believe you are the only one who can knock some sense into my brother or me if we go mad with the struggle for succession. If either I or my brother try to cross the line, please stop us. Use those fists to strike us without mercy."
I did not look away from his displeased and menacing gaze. You're a man obsessed with martial arts? When it comes to being obsessed with something and digging into a single path, I'm no less than you.
The next instant!
The Fist Demon's massive fist was right in front of my face.
He had thrown the punch so fast that there wasn't even the sound of wind. It was as if the fist had been there in front of my face from the very beginning.
The sound erupted only afterward.
Whooooooooosh!
Just as a massive roar of wind was heard from behind—
K-BOOM!
A large hole was blown through the wall far behind me.
Amazingly, while leaving my face—where the fist had stopped—completely untouched, he had utterly obliterated what was behind me. It was a truly magnificent and profound technique.
The Fist Demon stared coldly at me, who hadn't even blinked at the incoming fist, then turned and walked away without a word.
I stood there, watching his retreating back as he walked into the distance.
The more you act like this, the more the flame in my heart will burn.
At the end of the path, the Fist Demon stopped.
"From tomorrow, come to the Blue Fist training ground."