Reincarnation of the Fist King Chapter 67

<—–67—–>

The Sword King, on the Brink of Death

The enemy's sophisticated tactics were shared with Baekyak. And Danwoosung memorized Baekyak's information.

Above all, I had never heard of a magical force called the Successor, even during the reign of King Fist. The King of Fist had never engaged in an all-out war with the Magical Clan. It was simply a time when, having been called King at a young age, he was striving to compete with those who held the title of Emperor.

In the end, fate is decided by force this time too.

Danwoo Seong suggested.

"Miss Baek, I think it's time for the two of us to have a duel. Not a one-off match, but a detailed examination, as if I'd peeked into all of Baek Mu-jin's martial arts. To that end, I will also reveal to Miss Baek the martial arts of the Oryomun, a sect of martial arts, without holding back. The Oryomun, the martial arts of the King of Fists, I believe will be of benefit to you, Miss Baek."

Baekyak looked at Danwoo Seong intently.

It was no ordinary proposal.

Baekyak said with a smile.

“Surely you’re not asking me to teach you martial arts, are you?”

"That's not possible. I'm cultivating my inner strength in the extreme. I won't be learning ice magic anyway. What we need to learn is the techniques for killing, the methods for killing, the martial arts that lead to death…"

“These are the things.”

“Wouldn’t it be dangerous for both of us?”

"I think it's worth taking that risk. There's no need to rush. It's just an extension of martial arts."

“I understand.”

Danwoo Seong believed this was the Baekdo way. Exchanging martial arts. Of course, this was an exchange impossible in a sect steeped in formality, procedure, and pride. Danwoo Seong in his past life was no different. He had simply secluded himself in the mountains, striving to become stronger alone. That approach's failure had led to his death, and now he needed to make the effort he hadn't made in his past life.

Isn't there a descendant of the person who is considered the greatest person of all time right before our eyes?

It was something we could bring up because we already had feelings for each other.

Danwoo Seong was serious.

If there was a way to become stronger, I wanted to try everything.

If things got stuck like this and there was no progress like that, I was even thinking about having that damn dream again and getting beaten up by Jin So-han and Baek Mu-jin all night long.

But that is an unrealistic method.

Baekyak replied simply.

“I understand. I, too, want to become stronger, by any means necessary.”

Baekyakdo was a woman of extraordinary pride, but she couldn't defeat the Confucius of the upper class in martial arts. Since her feelings had naturally developed into affection, there was no reason to reject her.

Danwoo Sung extended his hand.

“Then, first, grab it. Start with internal energy, then gradually move on to the rest.”

Baekyak looked around the meeting room and replied.

“Are you okay here?”

“Let’s adjust it.”

Baekyak grabbed Danwoosung's hand. Neither of them had expended any of their internal energy, so they simply held hands for a moment.

Danwoo-seong smiled faintly on purpose.

Baekyak took his hand out of Danwoosung's rough grip and placed one finger on Danwoosung's palm.

“I’m ready.”

Danwoo-seong nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Baekyak injected cold energy into Danwooseong's heart with the Baekhwaji method. Danwooseong felt his hands instantly grow cold as he infused his internal energy.

A situation where someone can suffer internal injuries if they are unable to control their internal energy.

However, the two of them gradually increased their attack power while assessing each other's internal energy.

I was curious about Baekyakdo Danwooseong's realm.

A surge of brain energy surged from Danwoosung's heart, threatening to explode. Baekyak suppressed it with his Baekhwaji method.

Danwoo Seong said.

“Let’s raise it more.”

As Baekyak nodded and increased his energy, a cool energy enveloped his entire body.

The same goes for Danwoo Seong.

He was a hot guy.

Baekyak had personally experienced that Danwooseong's inner strength was far more profound than he displayed on the outside. Baekyak was the successor to Baek Mujin, who had returned to the Central Plains after a long absence. The family's preparations were thorough.

The grandfather gave everything to the father, and the father to Baekyak… everything was given over.

Yet, it was astonishing that Danwoosung held on. As his brain energy surged out of his chest, seemingly going wild, Baekyak grabbed Danwoosung's hand and spoke.

“I will respond with a white flower palm.”

It was a brain tumor that was difficult to suppress by law.

The conversation flowed naturally because both sides had spare energy. Danwoo Sung responded briefly.

“I will upload it to the club soon.”

Baekyak nodded, enduring the urge to succumb. Since the ten or twelve stages were usually considered great, he spoke without much thought.

“Try raising it to ten levels. I’ll stop there too.”

Danwoo-seong studied Baekyak's expression and then pushed his internal energy beyond its limits. Most masters would have been engulfed in a blast of lightning, their entire bodies ripped apart by the force.

At that moment, a wave of energy erupted from both of their bodies, shaking the decorations inside the reception room and even shaking the walls and doors.

The two people, startled, made eye contact, then gradually reduced their internal energy and held hands for a moment.

The location didn't suit me.

Baekyak withdrew his hand and wiped the sweat from Danwooseong's forehead with his finger. It felt like a cold block of ice was slicing across his forehead.

Baekyak said.

"I feel like I have a lot to learn. I've never used this much air power before. It feels different than when I do it alone."

Of course, fighting isn't solely about internal energy. He already knew that Danwoosung possessed far more practical experience and a deeper understanding of offensive and defensive tactics than he did. If unusual enemies were to make their move, he figured it wouldn't hurt to prepare alongside this man.

Danwoo-seong opened his eyes wide as he looked at Baekyak's sleeve.

With a bang, the sleeves split open and tore upwards.

Danwoo-seong grabbed the torn sleeve.

Even Baekyak was surprised.

"oh my."

Baekyak smiled deeply, his cheeks furrowed, and his sleeves rolled up.

“I have to change my clothes secretly because I might get scolded by Ran.”

Danwoo-seong nodded.

.

.

.

The man called the Sword King, whose real name is Neungcheonak.

I am fifty-two years old this year.

Contrary to the Murim Alliance leader's worries, he was still alive and breathing. However, he was being held captive by unidentified individuals.

Although he was captured, he was not tied up and his uniform was not taken away.

I simply sat cross-legged in an empty space, eating my two daily meals, which came through an iron gate. What largely led me to abandon the blood feud was the poisoning I'd been subjected to before I could even fight. The strange poison, so potent that I didn't even realize it had hit me, hindered my ability to utilize my internal energy.

So, I was locked in a large prison cell painted white on all sides.

Is it possible that the man known as the Sword King gave up fighting and was captured?

However, the Sword King was shocked when he saw the two martial arts masters attacking him while intoxicated.

Even if they weren't addicted, they were people who couldn't handle it.

For some reason, when the Sword King lowered his sword, the enemy leaders also gathered their men.

After that, I was guided here as if I had been invited.

I didn't expect to escape anyway. But I was curious about their identities. The same was true for the fate of the King of Fists and Murong Chu. Rather than risk losing my life in a futile fight, I wanted to learn even the smallest details from the leaders of the demonic clans.

Clank.

The white iron door opened, and about a dozen black-clad men entered. Then, a cheerful man walked toward Neungcheonak and spoke.

“Senior Sword King, does the food suit your taste?”

He was a man with dark skin, but he had a handsome appearance that made it seem like women would rush to him if he just changed into a dull outfit.

Neungcheon-ak nodded while looking at the man.

“It wasn’t poisonous, so it was quite tasty.”

This cheerful-looking man was one of the men who had put a rare amount of pressure on Neungcheon-ak.

The man said with a smirk.

“That’s great. Did you get rid of all the poison with the lucky breakfast?”

“You’ve gotten a lot better since yesterday. Hey, junior.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“You haven’t even announced your name yet, so tell me your name.”

The man replied.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I threw away the person’s name.”

One of the subordinates brought a chair and set it down, and the man who was talking to the sword king sat down.

Neungcheon-ak nodded in response to the man's words.

"I somehow find it believable. Having abandoned human names, what name do you use?"

The man replied.

“Senior, please feel free to call me Sword Demon from now on.”

Neungcheonak nodded.

“I see, Sword Demon. How old are you?”

In response to Neungcheonak's question, Geomma smiled again and answered.

“I’m not counting my age.”

Neungcheon-ak asked, trying to maintain his composure.

“Did your parents die in the Battle of Oryung?”

"Ah, the Oreungdaejeon? It's been a while since I've heard of it. That's probably it. I don't know for sure whether he was alive or dead. His adoptive parents weren't the ones who raised him. Do you have any further questions?"

Neungcheonak nodded.

“Why did you keep me alive?”

The black horse smiled faintly.

“Isn’t he called the Sword King?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Senior, look at my subordinates.”

The swordsman raised one hand and pointed to his subordinates standing in a row.

“How is it? They are all swordsmen.”

There were twelve men in total, dressed in black. Each of them carried a black sword at their waist.

The Sword King chuckled.

“That’s great.”

The swordsman said with a hearty laugh.

"How about it? Shall I give you a chance to kill him? One-on-one, fairly. I think they'll consider it an honor. Just the chance to fight the Sword King one-on-one. They haven't had that chance before."

Neungcheonak nodded.

"Junior, I'd appreciate it if you gave me a chance. I think it'd be a much more worthwhile fight than being beaten to death by so many people."

The swordsman clapped his hands.

“That’s great.”

Neungcheon-ak asked as he got up from his seat.

“Before we fight, I have a question.”

“Ask.”

"Did they kill Kwon Wang Hou and Murong Chu Seonbae like this? I'm curious about the others' fates. I can't even reach Seonbae Geomje."

The black horse smiled faintly.

"Well. Oh, I remember the King. He was a damn good fighter. I couldn't capture him alive. Just remember that."

Neungcheon-ak answered while drawing his sword.

“Thanks for letting me know. Who would jump in first?”

The swordsman said, snapping his fingers.

“Youngest.”

The man at the bottom stepped forward and answered.

"yes."

The swordsman pointed to Neungcheonak.

“Kill the great Sword King, or you will die.”

“I obey your orders.”

The swordsman pointed at his other subordinates and said:

“Watch carefully. When the youngest dies, it’s your turn.”

"All right."

The swordsman stretched out both his hands and spoke as if he were a judge.

“Okay, let’s begin.”

Neungcheonak, with his sword straight, conceded the first blow. Then, the youngest of the swordsmen, the so-called youngest, bowed and charged forward.

Neungcheon-ak deflected the swords that were rushing towards him, thinking that it was even more terrifying that they were pretending to be human and being polite.

Kaang!

Neungcheonak's hair fluttered in the waves. The enemy's internal energy was deeper than expected.

'That youngest guy······.'

But it wasn't to the point where he couldn't kill them. Neungcheonak thought that even if he died here, he had to take all of Geomma's subordinates to the afterlife. After about twenty rounds of combat, Neungcheonak began to see several weaknesses in his opponent.

But all those who watch are enemies.

I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable.

After launching another dozen or so attacks, he deflected the youngest's counterattack and spun around, accurately cutting off the opponent's neck.

Kang!

At the moment when the neck should have been cut, the opponent threw the chair.

At that fleeting moment, Neungcheonakdo responded in kind.

Kwaaaaang!

The tension of Neungcheonak sent the man flying into the wall and crashing into it. However, he quickly got up.

Neungcheon-ak stared blankly at the man he had been fighting just moments before. His sword, which he had struck with precision, had bounced off his opponent's neck, failing to cut it.

‘The sword is unsinkable (刀劍不侵)?’

The swordsman said with an expression of admiration.

"You're amazing. A counterattack in the midst of all that. Kings truly live up to their reputation."

When Neungcheon-ak was half out of his mind, Geomma spoke as if to bring him back to his senses.

“Senior, it’s not over yet. Keep going.”

The End of <The Sword King, on the Brink of Death>