Sparring Class (2)
Cheolwangguk closed the distance, hurling his shoulder forward in the same charging stance. Terrifying power gathered in his fist, ripping through the air with a sharp whistling sound. A clean straight punch that belied his massive bulk.
He etched the incoming mass onto his retinas and twisted his jaw aside. It grazed his cheek by a paper's thickness. A lethal whoosh echoed past his ear.
Pretty fast...
It was unbelievable speed for that lump of a body. Lowering his gaze, he saw calves swollen with muscle that filled them to bursting, powering the explosive force from his legs.
Cheolwangguk closed in again. Holding his breath, he unleashed a torrent of attacks without respite. His combos flowed like water, refusing to give even a moment's opening.
Right to left... Fake to the gut. Real one's an uppercut to the jaw.
Countless real battles flashed through his mind. He read the enemy's moves with his eyes, the threat's scent with his nose, the trajectory with his skin—and countered every assault with minimal motion.
"Hoo...!"
Soon enough, Cheolwangguk showed signs of fatigue. Inevitably, gaps appeared, disrupting his combo chains. Seizing the chance, Choi Siwoo slipped inside.
He spoke to the flinching giant.
"Block it."
"-!!!"
Power surged into his legs. His whip-like kick flashed with afterimages, striking like lightning.
Thwack-!
A dull thud echoed through the sparring hall. Shocked screams erupted from the onlookers.
Cheolwangguk's head snapped back, light fading from his pupils.
Even after the warning, he couldn't react...
Disappointment flickered—then flames ignited in the giant's eyes. Pure willpower alone steadied his shaken body, refusing to yield.
Oho...
His brain must be rattled enough to black out any second, yet he recovered without pause.
Tougher than he looks?
"Hup!"
Cheolwangguk inhaled sharply, raising his arm high. Blue mana compressed into his fist, radiating imperfect light.
The sheer pressure of its waves hit instinctively. He kicked off the ground to evade the downward smash.
-Boom!
An explosion like a bomb detonated. His fist left a perfect crater in the floor—power threatening enough to pass for a skill.
"Not bad. You can manifest mana too?"
"Basic training for any Awakener."
Basic training, huh...
Not many mastered mana control before twenty. Cheolwangguk wiped blood from his jaw with his knuckles.
"Why?"
"Hm?"
"You said 'block.' I heard it clear. Without that, you'd have won."
This guy... Instead of prideful rage, he asked calmly. Intriguing. Or maybe scheming.
Buying time to recover?
Nah, didn't seem the type. Pure curiosity, then.
"If you just passed out, it'd be no fun for you or me."
"Hm..."
"Besides, you're one of the few who can actually fight me besides Song Junho. I wanna enjoy it a bit longer."
"...I see."
He nodded in understanding. Plain truth—no lies. Though shutting up the watching Yoon Jiye and her crew was a bonus...
Body feels sluggish.
Anyone hearing that would laugh, but objectively, he was slow now. Aftereffects of this shitty vessel, sure. But the real issue ran deeper.
No life-or-death threats. Senses dulled from lack of real combat.
In his previous life, after Descent of the Demon God, every breath demanded constant vigilance. Death lurked everywhere; a single lapse meant doom. He had to gauge his full power and adapt to any crisis.
Those who couldn't died horribly, no matter their talent. Survive clumsily, and you'd grow strong eventually. He'd been weak but lived—and grown.
But this world's too peaceful.
Plenty to reach his past peak like this. But no—that led straight to decapitation by that bastard Six Demon Lords' No Face again. The gap had been overwhelming.
I need to get stronger.
With resources abundant, he had to risk life in fights, stack combat data through variety.
This guy's perfect for loosening up.
Finding a tougher sandbag than Song Junho wasn't easy. He beckoned with a flick.
"Don't just stare. You not planning to stick to hand-to-hand? You know you can't win with martial arts."
The silent giant nodded low.
"Yeah. Sadly, without my ability, I can't beat you now."
"Then quit yapping and bring it out. Your unique ability."
"Fine."
A gale of wind pressure blinded him briefly, blue mana blooming. Moments later, the already huge frame swelled further.
He wore full-body armor like hammered tin and alloys. A forge furnace glowed on his chest, spewing hot flames and steam.
Cartoonish cosplay at first glance—but the aura demanded respect.
Cheolwangguk uses Full Body Transformation - Tin Woodman (C+).
Mystery infuses the target.
Greatly reduces power of skills below a certain rank.
"Legendary inheritance?"
"Yeah. My pride."
Tin Woodman... Wizard of Oz, huh.
Awakening abilities fell into superpowers, magic, martial arts, etc. Polished enough, they evolved uniquely. But rares existed from the start—potent effects baked in.
Those drawn from myths, legends, fairy tales fit the bill. His was prime example.
That tin mass outclassed plain Metallization or Steel Skin.
Cheolwangguk crouched low, football tackle stance, fierce eyes gleaming through his helm.
"Things change now."
Boom-!
Like a steel-clad bull charging. ...Speed's the same.
But no slowdown either. The mystery-infused armor nullified weight penalties.
Timing perfect, he twisted his ankle for spin, evading cleanly and slamming a back kick into the exposed side. Precise distance, flawless hit.
Yet the giant shrugged it off, glaring.
"Useless. Hand-to-hand can't hurt me."
Damn, seriously...
Looked serious, so no low blows—yet this idiot?
Why end every sentence with 'da, da, da'?
Debating his smarts, ominous mana rippled over the giant.
"Take this."
Cheolwangguk flung open his chest furnace. A rumble, then scarlet flames boiled like living beasts.
Chills raced up his spine.
Instinct activates.
Whoosh!
Flames surged in a fan, no ordinary fire. Each wisp mystery-laced, far deadlier than standard flame powers. Like a dragon's belch, it melted the floor tiles.
Cheolwangguk uses Flame Eruption.
Dodge? Nah.
Leg rose high, faint mana coiling blue. He slammed the ground, cleaving the flames in two.
Shattering the elemental attribute raw, snuffing it out. Beyond the scattering blaze, shock on the giant's face.
"...In one hit? What nonsense... Not even a skill—"
"-Quit gawking."
"...!!!"
Blink, and he was there. Frozen in surprise, perfect target. Back kick to the prior side wound.
"...Useless, I said!?—"
Crack.
Cheolwangguk fell silent. Armor dented deep, cracking apart. Tin chunks hit the floor, dissolving in blue afterglow.
He scratched his ear at the startled retreat.
"What was that? 'Useless'?"
"......"
Dazed stare earned a tongue click.
Gawking? Prep your next move already.
Real fight, he'd be dead now.
That's all he has...?
My fault for expecting B-Class. At least Song Junho made it a fight.
"That it? Nothing more?"
"...Hoo..."
Deep breath from Cheolwangguk. Vast blue ripples emanated—instinct screamed ultimate skill.
Like Song Junho's Black Child: ace reversal move, trump card.
Soon, a massive tin axe materialized in his hands.
Cheolwangguk casts Axe of the March (C+).
"Huff, huff."
Ragged breaths—proof of overexertion.
Accounting for mana exhaustion, huh.
Using what he couldn't control fully, risking backlash.
Gutsy.
"Choi Siwoo! Take this! My ultimate strike!"
Axe high, he smashed down. Thud-!
Earth quaked. Cracks spiderwebbed, roars echoing everywhere.
Grab-!
"...?"
Ankle seized—he looked down. From fissures, tin puppets crawled: five giants matching Cheolwangguk's size.
They gripped arms, legs, shoulders with monstrous strength, binding him.
"Summon type?"
"Yeah. Sorry in advance. Didn't wanna stoop low, but no choice."
Stoop? Use what works.
Come to think, besides Iron King, he had another title.
Steel Leader. Dismissed it before without seeing, but this explained it.
Could build a whole legion later.
Great war potential, even if ultimates were short-duration. Talent pool difference, huh—
Cheolwangguk roared, charging full throttle. All mana wreathed the blade in azure flames; puppets tightened.
Doom scenario. Onlookers tsked or sneered, assuming defeat.
"Not bad."
"...What?"
Hand from pocket gripped his waist sword hilt.
"I mean, it wasn't bad."
Not great, but whatever. Lightning draw.
Earsplitting screech, circular flash filling the arena. Vision-blurring slashes whipped gale-force winds.
Swordstorm rampage, brief but relentless.
Swordsman's Zenith activates.
Current body cannot fully embody this swordsmanship!
Silence fell. The clamor vanished into eerie quiet.
"...How many... hits?"
Cheolwangguk's helm split. Blood streamed from eyes, nose, ears. He spat crimson, glaring with bloodshot eyes.
"Dunno. Lost my edge counting... around ten?"
Close enough—slash marks on the floor matched.
▶ Negative. Nine times.
For real?
Truly washed up. Prime days hit thirty-plus...
Tin puppets crumbled from vitals: neck, chest, legs—eerie groans as they split.
Thud.
Cheolwangguk dropped to one knee, armor scattering. Blood soaked his torso.
Whoa, looks half-dead.
"Controlled the force. Missed vitals, so hit the medical center and rest a day."
"...Tha...nks."
As he collapsed, Choi Siwoo eyed his drawn blade.
Total wreck.
Blade too chipped to reuse. Tsk. A million-won sword—too flimsy.
Wrist stats helped it hold up.
Shoved it back roughly. Time to snag a decent one.
First time demonstrating this technique.
Unregistered skill.
Name it as the creator.
Oh right, this too.
Same as past life works.
No biggie. Names didn't matter.
▶...Master. Truly using the exact name from your past life?
Easiest.
▶Master. You know I've faithfully executed your commands thus far. This time, please choose from my suggestions—
'Multi-Slash.'
Recorded as Multi-Slash.
▶-......
What, why?
Damn, even the bald powerhouse next door sticks to punch-punch. Simple's best.