Chapter 124: The Fist King's Farewell
The Fist King Bids Farewell
Chapter 124: The Fist King's Farewell
As Dan Woo-sung unleashed lightning energy onto the Heavenly Demon's face, the Heavenly Demon immediately countered with a double-palm strike. He wasn't the type to stand idly by while his face melted.
Even amidst the chaos, the Heavenly Demon shielded his body with Extreme Yin internal energy while channeling Extreme Yang into his palms. His split-second decision resulted in a counterattack that bordered on mutual destruction.
Dan Woo-sung ignored the incoming double-palm strike entirely and threw his own punch. His right hand gripped the Heavenly Demon's face like a vise, while his left struck his chest before the palms could land.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The Heavenly Demon's double-palm strike lost all momentum before it could even reach Dan Woo-sung.
The sound of ribs shattering echoed through the air. By the time their bodies crashed to the ground, Dan Woo-sung still had his hand clamped over the Heavenly Demon's face. Without so much as a scream from his opponent, Dan Woo-sung lifted him with one hand and drove his left fist straight through his abdomen.
Squelch!
The Heavenly Demon's head had already melted away from the lightning energy.
He died without even the chance to utter last words. Watching this, the Sword Demon roared in anguish.
"Wi Ji-cheon!"
He called out his friend's name once—what else was there to say?
The Sword Demon let out a long sigh.
"So this is how you die? This is how you wanted to go...?"
Did you have to live so pathetically?
The emotional toll of the Heavenly Demon's death belonged solely to the Sword Demon.
Dan Woo-sung hurled Wi Ji-cheon's corpse toward a massive tree.
CRASH!
The body crumpled like paper, bones shattering on impact.
Expressionless, Dan Woo-sung turned his gaze toward the Sword Demon, who abruptly stood up and stormed toward White Cat, bellowing:
"Give me the sword, you damn cat! Hand it over!"
As he passed Dan Woo-sung, he muttered:
"Yeah. I'm next."
His attitude made it clear—he wouldn't fight without his sword, no matter how Dan Woo-sung came at him.
White Cat pressed a paw down on the Demon Sword, staring at the Sword Demon. Before he could reach her, he thrust out a hand.
"Bite it! You wretched little monster! Tear it off!"
As the Sword Demon approached, White Cat naturally opened her mouth and clamped down on his hand—her teeth meeting Blade Immunity.
It felt like biting into solid rock. Disgusted, she whipped her head to the side and flung the Sword Demon away.
In that instant, the Demon Sword she had been holding shot forward—guided by the Heart Demon Sword Art—and landed in the Sword Demon's outstretched hand as he flew through the air.
He tumbled across the ground but quickly sprang back up, gripping the sword.
"Ready? Doesn't matter if you're not."
The Sword Demon approached Dan Woo-sung, analyzing him with Abyssal Sight. The Fist King remained still, arms crossed, watching him coldly.
More than grief, fury surged within the Sword Demon—fury at how utterly and pathetically his friend had lost. The Heavenly Demon he knew was far stronger than this. It felt like their entire lives had been invalidated.
As he charged forward, Mad Demon roared:
"Stay calm, you lunatic! Do you want to end up like Wi Ji-cheon?"
The Sword Demon snapped back to his senses.
To Mad Demon, the line between ally and enemy was blurred. He didn't care who won—only that they fought properly. Anything less would render all their past atrocities and struggles meaningless.
Dan Woo-sung smirked.
Originally, twelve Blade Immunity practitioners, their leader the Sword Demon, and the now-deceased Wi Ji-cheon had joined forces to kill the Fist King. Fourteen warriors in total, launching a coordinated assault—yet the Fist King had endured it all.
There was no fear in Dan Woo-sung's heart—only the certainty of vengeance.
Because he wasn't the same Fist King from before.
The Sword Demon, consumed by adrenaline, swung his blade. His techniques had always bordered on mutual destruction—each strike carrying the intent to die together.
As he lunged, Mad Demon spoke in a measured tone, reciting mantras to steady his mind:
"The Demonic Path is walked by those who seek to become malevolent spirits. Cast aside by the world, they make the world their enemy. They erase all compassion and warmth from their hearts, pursuing strength alone. That is why it is a path of defiance. They swear to reach the heavens before ever considering human affairs. Sword Demon, you are still far from that. What does Wi Ji-cheon's death have to do with you? If the Demonic Path ceases to be itself, what awaits you but death?"
Mad Demon repeated the teachings often spoken by the Great Masters. Gradually, the Sword Demon's frenzy subsided. His suicidal techniques dwindled as he returned to the mindset of a true swordsman.
Seeing this, Mad Demon nodded approvingly.
"That's it. Fight to win—not to die alongside someone else."
But whether the Sword Demon fought calmly or not, Dan Woo-sung's fist smashed into his face.
CRACK!
The Sword Demon hurtled through the air before crashing near Wi Ji-cheon's corpse. As he staggered to his feet, he turned his Abyssal Sight toward the body.
The internal energy and aura had vanished—normally, the corpse would be unrecognizable. But Abyssal Sight relied on memory as much as vision. He saw his friend clearly.
Wi Ji-cheon's lips were still curled in a smile, but bloody tears streaked from his eyes.
Mad Demon bellowed:
"What the hell are you doing? Snap out of it!"
There was no room for sentimentality in battle. The Sword Demon jolted as Dan Woo-sung closed in, swinging his blade wildly.
Between furious slashes, the Sword Demon spoke:
"You're the Fist King. You've returned. How did you come back from the afterlife? For revenge? Is such a thing even possible?"
Thud!
Only the blind Sword Demon knew the truth the world refused to acknowledge. But no one would believe him—not Mad Demon, not anyone. He had always been seen as a madman, and now he had lost his eyes.
As despair filled him, blood gushed from his mouth.
Cough!
Qi Deviation.
How could this happen when he had seen the truth with Abyssal Sight?
Because the Demonic Path was defiance itself.
Staggering, the Sword Demon stabbed his sword into the ground and glared at Dan Woo-sung.
Even Dan Woo-sung paused, watching as the Sword Demon coughed up blood, swaying on the verge of collapse.
The Sword Demon pleaded:
"Hey..."
"Speak."
"Are you the Fist King? The one we killed back then? Tell me the truth. I want to know. My body... won't last much longer."
Dan Woo-sung stared at him coldly.
"Why do you deserve the truth?"
"I just want to know."
The Sword Demon's voice was hollow with despair.
"I'm asking you. Please."
Dan Woo-sung replied flatly:
"The people you killed probably wanted to live too. Some must have begged for mercy. But you never gave them a reason, did you? That's the Demonic Path for you."
The Sword Demon dropped his sword and raised both hands in supplication.
"Please... tell me."
Dan Woo-sung fed the flames of his Qi Deviation with a simple statement:
"I am the Fist Demon. Not the Fist King."
He stepped forward, gripping the Sword Demon's skull.
"The Fist Demon."
As Dan Woo-sung repeated it, bloody tears streamed from the hollows where the Sword Demon's eyes had been—just like Wi Ji-cheon's.
With cruel amusement, Dan Woo-sung turned to Mad Demon.
"Mad Demon, tell him the truth. Who am I?"
Mad Demon sighed, then spoke calmly—as if doing the Sword Demon a favor:
"Yeon Ja-heun, the man before you is not the Fist King. How could a man in his twenties be him? You bragged countless times about killing the Fist King with Wi Ji-cheon. The Great Masters' teachings have summoned a demon into your heart."
The Sword Demon began to laugh—a broken, hollow sound.
"Heh... I lost. I lost to the Fist King. I lost to Blade Emperor, who took my eyes. I lost to Wi Ji-cheon every time. And now, seeing how tormented I am... I've lost to the White Path too. Yeon Ja-heun could not conquer the world. If I was wrong, who can I blame? No one will tell me the truth. This... is the truth I've reached at the end of the Demonic Path."
Dan Woo-sung released his grip and stared at him.
A man of the Demonic Path knelt in defeat—not by force, but by truth.
The Sword Demon was already broken.
Dan Woo-sung nodded silently. There was nothing left to say.
The Sword Demon gripped his blade with both hands and plunged it into the ground. Then, in a low voice—as if reciting the Heart Demon Sword Art—he murmured:
"To the souls I oppressed: I killed you to attain Blade Immunity. I repent my sins too late and pray for release."
Before reciting the incantation to undo Blade Immunity, he confessed his regrets. As he chanted, black energy seeped from the Demon Sword like smoke.
For the first time since inheriting the Demon Sword, he had purified it—reducing it to an ordinary longsword.
If the sword had returned to its original state, then Yeon Ja-heun had returned to his original self.
Humans are meant to live with wounds.
So too had Yeon Ja-heun's body.
He spoke to Dan Woo-sung as if entrusting him with a final truth:
"The Ten Thousand Demon Palace has Great Masters. They are like parents to the Demonic Path. They do not interfere in their disciples' affairs, nor do they hold ranks among themselves. There are no masters or apprentices—no senior or junior brothers. They teach each other, exchange techniques, and sometimes raise disciples together. The Heavenly Demon and I came from there. The Ten Thousand Demon Palace Lord is likely their greatest disciple. Had I become the Demon God, I would have killed them first. I never knew my parents. They never called my name. The Great Masters told me I was Yeon Ja-heun, son of the Sword Demon—a man torn apart by the White Path. That's why I walked the Demonic Path. I doubted it was true, yet I made it my driving force. Because before I learned of the world... I learned hatred."
Without using Abyssal Sight, Yeon Ja-heun faced the encroaching darkness.
"My name is Yeon Ja-heun. Now, I go to Wi Ji-cheon's side."
He drove his longsword into his abdomen.
Thunk.
The blade pierced through his torso.
Had he become human again by stabbing himself?
As the Sword Demon's breath ceased, a heavy silence fell over the battlefield.
Neither Dan Woo-sung nor the cross-legged Mad Demon could speak.
Dan Woo-sung sat before the Sword Demon's corpse, gazing at his lifeless face before murmuring:
"Yeon Ja-heun... find peace."
His enemy was dead.
Yet Dan Woo-sung prayed that even in the next life, Yeon Ja-heun would find salvation.
To ensure the departed soul did not wander the underworld, Dan Woo-sung sat quietly, arms crossed, and silently bid him farewell.