Iron Man (2)
There are children born into the world with something that can't even be called a disease. Once dubbed "God's blessing," it later became known as "God's curse" once their tragically short lifespans became widely recognized. But starting from the year of the religious reformation recorded in history as the "Holy War," in Geomguk Bernil, they were named "mutants"—mutants, in other words.
Coincidentally, it was that same year that Steel King Keriksis Jargun Altsbeian Bernil was born.
"This child will grow into our kingdom's greatest treasure!"
Born as the seventh direct descendant of Bernil's royal line, he was a naturally robust child. Not only that, but as he grew, his bones and flesh hardened progressively, and by age seven, even auras couldn't scratch his body.
The drawback was that he couldn't wield auras himself, but that hardly mattered. His strength, capable of shattering steel, combined with a body impervious to auras, was more than enough to mark him as a weapon of war from the tender age of seven.
"Oh! Keriksis! My son. It would have been even better if you could wield a sword!"
He grew into Geomguk Bernil's guardian deity. In a nation that worshipped swords and honored only swordsmen, for a prince who had never even held one to become the kingdom's protector—it was the height of irony. But those were chaotic times, with wars raging endlessly.
"Slaughter all the fanatics of the Holy Kingdom!"
"Burn Saintlion to the ground!"
Soon, the entire continent was engulfed in war, and at fourteen, Keriksis threw himself into the fiercest battles. Nothing could stop him. Neither magic nor auras worked against him.
"It's a monster!"
"Bernil's mutant has appeared! Everyone, retreat!"
Raised from childhood as a weapon of war, he naturally crushed every enemy in his path without mercy. Yet the war still turned against Geomguk Bernil.
"The Third Prince has fallen on this battlefield..."
"We barely recaptured it this time, but the capital's situation is dire!"
"Is the thousand-year-old Sword Kingdom Bernil finally done for...?"
"What about the alliance with Leban? Are they still insisting on neutrality?"
Numerous royals were sent to the front lines, vanishing into the fray in numbers so vast it was no exaggeration to say nearly all of them. Keriksis didn't care. What the swordsmen whispered behind his back meant nothing. He was born to protect this nation, and he wouldn't stop fighting until it fell.
It was around this time that Keriksis ascended to the throne, earning the moniker Steel King. While he was away on campaign, the capital was invaded, wiping out all direct heirs to the crown.
"I, Keriksis Jargun Altsbeian Bernil, swear solemnly that even in the moment of my death—no, even in death—I will fight for this nation."
Donning not the plundered traditional crown but a new iron one forged to symbolize him, Keriksis marched back to the battlefield. In the Great War, he slew more enemies single-handedly than any army. Thanks to his feats, Bernil—once dismissed as a dying power—endured until the "Day of Armistice" ten years later.
"Our king! Our true king!"
Peace finally came, and the people hailed him. Even those who once questioned his legitimacy and tarnished his name had vanished. Keriksis truly was the savior of the nation.
Or so it seemed on the surface. The reality was different. Despite the countless fallen, the ministers clinging to Bernil's sword kingdom traditions remained.
"Since His Majesty cannot produce an heir, the next king must be a swordsman in line with tradition..."
"His lifespan is short anyway. Let's wait a few more years! He leaves all politics to us regardless?"
"For the Sword Kingdom Bernil!"
Keriksis wasn't a fool. He knew the ministers who praised him to his face but seethed in humiliation that a non-swordsman sat on the throne. Yet he showed no sign of it. From birth, he was the nation's guardian deity, and that duty wouldn't change until death.
"Yes, this is enough."
Time passed, and in his twenties, Keriksis entered his twilight years. His body, which had only grown harder without cease, became too rigid to even move properly. Confined to his bed, he heard that one of the surviving young royals had inherited the throne. Whatever. His legendary feats would live on eternally in continental history.
"I saved the nation and its people. I endured the envy of the haughty elites. What a short life, but I lived it more meaningfully than anyone!"
Thus, Keriksis—who had spent his entire life on the battlefield—found his rest.
But...
The Tower of Heaven selects you.
Rank D — Gain additional corrections to Strength and Stamina based on Durability. However, Magic decreases proportionally.
Rank E — Ignore 90% of magic-based damage. However, armor cannot be equipped.
Rank F — +2 to all stats except Magic. However, weapons cannot be equipped.
After smashing the head of the beastman he met in his first duel with a single punch, Keriksis confirmed his unique skill <Iron Man>. It was a skill that grew increasingly similar to his innate abilities. Even the drawback of powerful penalties matching its strengths.
Keriksis roared in anguish.
'What duty remains for me that they've thrown me back into this pathetic place?!'
Even investing most AP into stats and learning a few support skills left him feeling no shortage of power. He was far weaker than his prime, when he single-handedly faced armies—roughly equivalent to his strength at age ten, if gauged by years. But since everyone was equalized downward, his repertoire hadn't changed.
No one up to the final gateway on the 4th floor had properly blocked even a single punch of his.
Until this duel began.
"...Hmph!"
During the countdown, the movement caught him off guard. Only belatedly did he realize it was a unique skill like his own <Iron Man>.
A truly underhanded ability. And the weapon was a sword—the one thing he despised—no, two swords.
'Those detestable bastards...'
He'd never shown it in life, but even at death's door, Keriksis loathed swordsmen. Naturally so. Day in and day out, they'd chanted "sword, sword, sword" everywhere, belittling and discriminating against him as if he were lesser.
This time, he decided to teach this sneaky swordsman a lesson.
But it didn't go as planned. Unexpectedly, Yun-seok wasn't just some flashy warrior relying on grapples(?).
Whoosh!
His fist, strong enough to shatter mountains, met the sword. Keriksis had no doubt it would shatter the blade. But the sword enveloped his fist like wind, deflecting it aside with minimal force.
"Ha!"
—the soft overcomes the hard. One of the ingenious techniques born from that philosophy. Sehelanbard had similar methods, just called differently.
"A handful of water rusts steel? Bullshit!"
Impressed slightly by Yun-seok's level, but that was it. Keriksis grinned instead. He'd faced swordsmen of similar styles before.
They crumbled when anything deviated from their calculations, even slightly.
"Kuhahaha! Try blocking this one!"
The punch flew with a roar. Yun-seok bent to dodge, but faltered. It wasn't the brute straight he'd seen countless times. The fist aimed at his face curved mid-flight, switching to his abdomen.
An utterly unforeseen changeup. Yun-seok twisted his waist in panic. If it had been his head or shoulder, he wouldn't have been so desperate—but the core in his gut?
'One hit there, and I'm done!'
A dizzying moment, but fortunately, the changeup was bait from the start. The real attack followed.
Bam!
The gut-targeted punch halted midway, thrusting instead at Yun-seok, whose stance crumbled from the evasion. Yun-seok hurriedly backstepped from any posture, but...
He was a beat too slow.
Kaboom!
The first punch he'd allowed. No time even to groan. With it, Yun-seok's neck upward vanished completely. The shattered head fragments scattered, unrecognizable.
Keriksis smirked at the expected result.
"Swordsmen are all weaklings, every last one."
Steel is the hardest thing, yet also the most malleable. Even rusted or broken, with fire and hammer, it transforms into any form—that's steel's nature.
"Couldn't grasp that simple truth. A pathetic swordsman to the end... Hm?"
Mid-sneer, Keriksis's eyes widened. No victory message appeared, but that was secondary.
Sizzle!
The scattered head fragments rose as one, gathering where Yun-seok's head had been, reforming its original shape.
Keriksis clicked his tongue, narrowing his brows.
"Not just any swordsman—a magic swordsman? Even more detestable."
Wielding two swords wasn't enough; he even used bizarre magic. Like a gift set packed with everything Keriksis hated.
He didn't know the magic allowing recovery from a blown-off head—a vital spot—but he didn't care.
"I'll smash you over and over!"
No one could regenerate from being pulped entirely.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Whoosh! Clang!
Fists cleaved air with explosive bursts, swords grazed flesh. Terrifying exchanges just to watch, yet the duel flowed one-sidedly.
'What kind of monster is this guy?'
Cold sweat trickled down Yun-seok's back. He'd noticed from the changeup: this man was clever. No—instinctively knew how to fight?
Without fanfare, he'd spotted Yun-seok's extra caution guarding his abdomen and targeted it relentlessly.
Pity, but not the simple brute he seemed.
'Without Stealth, I wouldn't have lasted this long.'
Desperate, he'd tested Stealth when other skills failed. Astonishingly, it worked on Keriksis.
Realizing this, Yun-seok was dumbfounded.
'No Magic investment at all?'
Stealth required a 3-rank Magic gap for absolute effect. Yun-seok had thought he'd never use it in the arena. Challengers' base Magic rarely differed by 3 ranks.
"There?!"
But Keriksis was beast-like. When Yun-seok vanished from sight, he instantly caught ground tremors, charging. They traded blows as Yun-seok reappeared.
As if instinctively predicting Yun-seok's reactions to his punches and chaining moves. But imperfect predictions left gaps, which Yun-seok exploited to survive crises.
'There has to be a way.'
Despite hundreds, thousands of attacks without a scratch, Yun-seok didn't despair. No one was invincible here. Even the seemingly immortal demon had a core weakness, which he'd exploited for victory.
With that resolve, testing odds and ends, Yun-seok finally found the answer.
'Uh...?'