Chapter 70: The Fist King Burns Them to Death
The Fist King Burns Them to Death
Episode 70: The Fist King Burns Them to Death
The Tenth Blade smirked.
For some inexplicable reason, the man he had locked eyes with earlier was now openly following him.
Judging by his fine attire, he seemed like the scion of a wealthy family.
'What a strange world. Money must solve everything for him.'
Pretending to flee, the Tenth Blade subtly activated his Lightfoot Technique and moved toward a secluded spot.
Sure enough, his pursuer followed without hesitation.
The Tenth Blade had never once retreated in battle—not while traveling with his comrades, the Twelve Demon Blades, nor under the command of their master, the Sword Demon.
There had been times when just twelve of them slaughtered hundreds of demonic bandits, or when they stormed a river fortress and painted its halls red. Even the legendary Sword Emperor had been forced to flee when faced with the Twelve Demon Blades.
Moreover, this was a region untouched by orthodox martial sects. There was no conceivable way he could lose to some reckless young fool.
After all, the Twelve Demon Blades were the elite survivors among countless orphans raised by the Ten Thousand Demon Palace. They had clawed their way through life-or-death battles, killing their own comrades to survive, before being handpicked by the Sword Demon for further training and resources. Confidence was inevitable.
Standing with his back to a cliff, the Tenth Blade turned and grinned.
"You followed me here to die?"
Dan Woo-sung scanned their surroundings as he slipped on his gauntlet.
"Why are you alone?"
The Tenth Blade drew his sword, tilting his head.
"Why am I alone? You don't even know me—do you recognize us?"
Dan Woo-sung studied his expression and realized this wasn't a trap. Something unexpected must have happened.
"Were you fleeing?"
"None of your business."
Dan Woo-sung nodded.
Either way, he intended to kill this man with everything he had. When Dan Woo-sung smiled, the Tenth Blade scoffed.
"Pathetic."
As the Tenth Blade lunged, Dan Woo-sung unleashed a Lightning Fist, channeling the White Lightning Ten Stages technique up to the eighth tier.
The Tenth Blade flinched in shock, countering with sword energy.
BOOOOM!
The shockwave sent the Tenth Blade crashing into the cliff—except the cliff face had been smashed inward in the shape of a colossal fist.
Only one thought crossed his mind:
'Damn it... He's the Fist King's disciple.'
The Fist King was the man who had once held off the combined assault of the Twelve Demon Blades for an entire shichen [two hours]. The Sword Demon himself had grown impatient and joined the fray, while the Heavenly Demon cut off his escape. Only then had they managed to subdue him.
Even after that battle, the Twelve Demon Blades were completely exhausted. The Sword Demon had to finish the Fist King off while he was still fresh.
Now, an entirely different Lightfoot Technique unfolded before him.
The Tenth Blade moved horizontally along the cliff with near-supernatural agility. Though he occasionally stumbled, his mastery was undeniable—especially since he was fleeing for his life.
Skirting the edge of Yangping Lake, the Tenth Blade slid down the cliff face and hit the ground, instantly accelerating.
At some point, he veered toward the shadowed mountains, then suddenly leaped into the air, twisting mid-flight to slash at empty space.
But a massive white fist was already inches from his face.
As his sword descended, white lightning wrapped around his entire body.
CRACKLE—ZZZZZT!
"Guh—!"
The Tenth Blade trembled violently before hurtling backward. Briefly knocked unconscious by the lightning, he barely regained his senses as he tumbled across the dirt.
THUD!
The moment he tried to rise, Dan Woo-sung was already upon him—a punch to the gut sent him flying into a thick tree, only to rebound off its trunk.
The Tenth Blade swung his sword mid-air.
SHIIIING!
Gripping the blade with both hands, he unleashed a swordsmanship style completely unlike orthodox techniques.
It was a savage, spinning onslaught—crude but relentless.
There were gaps. Every time Dan Woo-sung's fist connected, a strange metallic clang echoed.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
His body, impervious to blades, rang like hammered steel.
Mid-spin, the Tenth Blade suddenly shifted to a one-handed grip, transitioning into a refined swordsmanship style.
SWISH!
The blade split into five phantom edges, each unleashing sword winds simultaneously—a rapid-thrust technique combining piercing strikes and cutting gales.
Dan Woo-sung's eyes widened.
'The Qingcheng Sect's swordsmanship?'
But it wasn't just Qingcheng techniques. The Murong Clan's sword arts followed, then styles too obscure to identify.
The transitions weren't seamless, but his Blade Immunity body allowed him to brute-force combinations that shouldn't have worked.
This was the true swordsmanship of the Demonic Path.
Rolling across the ground again, the Tenth Blade slashed wildly before springing up and unleashing a barrage of palm strikes.
Now he employed techniques that belonged to the Black Path—grotesque methods rarely seen outside its ranks.
Dan Woo-sung dodged with the Five Steps Evasion, observing his desperate flailing.
His swordsmanship was a chaotic mix of orthodox, demonic, and forbidden techniques. That meant he had slaughtered practitioners indiscriminately, stealing their martial arts along the way.
'These lunatics...'
Dodging another attack, Dan Woo-sung leaped into the air and stomped down on the Tenth Blade's shoulder with Lightning Foot, propelling himself forward.
THUD!
Lightning energy seeped into the Tenth Blade's shuddering body.
"Ghk—!"
Dan Woo-sung spun mid-air and backhanded him across the face.
SMACK!
Scrambling up from the dirt, the Tenth Blade stabbed his sword into the ground and erupted with energy before slashing diagonally, unleashing a storm of sword qi.
SHIIING! CRACK!
The earth split. Trees were cleaved as if by a giant axe.
The Tenth Blade realized that if his opponent was truly the Fist King's disciple, he stood no chance alone.
So he poured everything into creating an escape route. Deliberately making his attacks flashy to force defense, he kicked up a dust cloud, then whistled sharply while activating his Lightfoot Technique.
WHIIIIIISTLE!
A signal—hoping any nearby comrades from the Twelve Demon Blades would hear and join him.
The shrill sound echoed like a ghost's wail in the desolate landscape.
Dan Woo-sung pressed his assault, but his mind was uneasy.
In his past life, countless swords had surrounded him, leaving no room to dodge. Each slash unleashed over a dozen sword energies. Men with Blade Immunity bodies had swarmed him, using every trick to pin him down.
Compared to that, how easy was this fight now?
The purple-robed man who had subtly intercepted his movements back then was nowhere to be seen.
The Tenth Blade twisted mid-air, slashing at Dan Woo-sung—only for his sword to be caught with absurd ease.
CLANK!
'Damn it!'
No matter how he twisted, Dan Woo-sung's grip didn't budge.
The Tenth Blade unleashed the Primordial Chaos Palm Strike—a condensed essence of demonic energy absorbed through forbidden means.
Dan Woo-sung felt hollow.
Their techniques were the same as before, yet this battle was unsettlingly effortless. He crushed the palm strike with his White Lightning energy, dissolving it like mist.
Deliberately, he kicked the Tenth Blade between the legs.
CLANG!
'Insane...'
He had aimed for a potential weak point, but his foot met what felt like solid steel.
Using the momentum, the Tenth Blade wrenched free and poured energy into his sword, shrouding the blade in black demonic qi.
He unleashed another slash.
SHIIING!
Dan Woo-sung didn't slow. Leaping up, he clasped his hands and pulled out strands of lightning, weaving them into a net that ensnared the Tenth Blade's face as he descended.
Lightning coiled around his skull.
ZZZZAP!
"GYAAAAAH!"
Dan Woo-sung grabbed his head, lifted him, and slammed him into the ground.
THUD!
The sounds grew increasingly brutal.
Even as the Tenth Blade flailed and slashed in resistance, Dan Woo-sung twisted his arm and smashed him down again. He snapped the wrist, then stomped on his face with Lightning Foot.
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
Each impact rang like hammered metal. His opponent was disgusting—strong, deeply skilled, and unnaturally resistant. No wonder most martial artists couldn't withstand their combined assaults. Facing just one was a blessing.
As the Tenth Blade writhed, gasping weakly...
Dan Woo-sung grabbed his hair, lifted him, and kneed him mid-air.
CRUNCH!
Even as his spine should have shattered, the Tenth Blade twisted, retaliating with hooked fingers or even trying to bite.
Truly, these were not human.
Dan Woo-sung spoke.
"What the hell are you?"
"Heh... heh... What do you think?"
Dan Woo-sung wrenched his arm a full rotation. Though his inhuman body resisted fiercely, the joint finally gave.
CRREEAK!
Strangely, there was no scream—as if his pain receptors had been removed.
Picking up the fallen black longsword, Dan Woo-sung gripped it with both hands and brought it down on the Tenth Blade's body.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
"Where's your weak point?"
"...You crazy bastard."
His face and body remained intact, only sinking deeper into the earth. What kind of monster was this?
Dan Woo-sung tossed the sword aside, sighed, then drove his fingers into the Tenth Blade's eyes and injected lightning energy.
"GYAAAAAAAAH!"
Orthodox martial artists would never use such methods. This was the kind of brutality that earned one the label of a demonic heretic. But Dan Woo-sung didn't hesitate.
'The eyes are vulnerable.'
Finally, a human-like scream erupted.
Covering the Tenth Blade's mouth with his left hand, Dan Woo-sung watched as crimson blood streamed from between his fingers.
"You were human. That's a relief."
He pulled his fingers free.
"Will you die, or will you talk?"
"Kill me."
"Understood."
PLUNGE!
Dan Woo-sung drove his fingers deep, then summoned the White Lightning Ten Stages to its ninth tier—burning his past life's enemy from the inside out. He had no intention of fighting these monsters honorably.
For a moment, he stared at the corpse.
Despite death, the body showed no change. Standing, Dan Woo-sung stomped on the head with Lightning Foot once more.
THUD!
'What the hell is going on?'
What kind of catastrophe was brewing? There were over a dozen more like this, a leader far stronger than them, and that mysterious man whose martial prowess was even higher.
Kneeling briefly, Dan Woo-sung exhaled deeply.
Suddenly, he thought of Yoo Jung-hong, the Alliance Leader. And Baek Yak.
'Can I handle this disaster alone?'
Lost in thought, their faces surfaced naturally.
Absently, he picked up the black longsword again, placed its edge against the ground, gripped the hilt, and chopped down with his palm.
CLANG!
Even striking the flat, the durability was unimaginable. The Heavenly Demon had spared no expense in forging these blades for his youngest disciple—evidently, the cost was astronomical.
As if grasping a clue, Dan Woo-sung hammered the blade like a blacksmith. Each strike bent but didn't break it. After several practice swings, he raised his hand—this time prioritizing speed over force.
Finally, the sword snapped in half.
Tossing the broken pieces aside, Dan Woo-sung studied the corpse. Black smoke seeped from its mouth, and the once-indestructible body began to shrivel grotesquely, like a deflating sack.
Without needing a confession, Dan Woo-sung uttered the enemy's identity.
"The Sword Demon."
ⓒ