Chapter 182: I Have a Question!

TL: FoodieMonster007

I did not know if the Undefeated Fist Demon felt the same way. I never imagined saying something like that to the Fist Demon, but the moment the Fist Demon declared he would demolish the cliff with one blow, something ignited in my heart. I felt an intense desire to throw my own fist at his impossible challenge.

The Fist Demon stared into my eyes, then shifted his gaze to my hand.

"With that baby hand?"

So the day has come when my hand is called a baby's hand.

"Compared to yours, Fist Demon, it's very small and cute, but in the world of ordinary people, it's considered a pretty well-formed hand."

"Stop with the nonsense and go back."

The Fist Demon exuded a chilly air, then turned and left.

I looked up at the cliff again.

If a fist that could shatter this in one blow flew at me, could my protective enhanced qi withstand it?

I clenched my fist as power surged into it.

That afternoon, I visited Father. We played Go for the first time in a while. The clear, crisp sound of the stones calmed my mind. Playing Go with Father was comfortable, perhaps because it resembled a duel. Once you step onto the duel stage or begin a game of Go, no words are needed with your opponent.

"I've lost."

I had won our last game by two points, but today I lost by six. An irrepressible smile touched Father's lips.

He's truly incorrigible.

Whether in Go or martial arts, Father was a man who could not stand to lose.

"When you have time, learn some Go from Strategist Sama."

"I'll have to do that."

"Why did you come today?"

Father had already noticed. He knew I had come with a purpose.

"Do you just get a feeling when you look at someone?"

"You were making unusually hasty moves today. Amateurs always give themselves away."

"An amateur! You only won for the first time today."

I was inwardly pleased. It meant Father had been paying attention to my state of mind while we played Go.

"There's something I wish to ask your permission for."

"What is it?"

"I'm thinking of learning fist arts from the Fist Demon. Please grant me your permission."

Father showed no particular reaction, as if he had expected it.

"If you want to learn, then you should learn. Why do you need my permission?"

"Of course I have to tell you before I learn, and I need your permission too."

"And if I don't permit it?"

"I'll just have to try harder to get your permission."

I revealed my honest feelings to Father.

"At first, my intention was a feint, to make noise in the east while attacking in the west. It was a probe to see how my brother would react if I provoked the Fist Demon, but today, the Fist Demon said his goal is to shatter a cliff with a single blow."

Father seemed to already know about that goal. He was not surprised by my words at all.

"At those words, my own wariness crumbled, not the cliff. I thought it was magnificent, and I found myself wanting to shatter a cliff too."

"That's your chronic weakness. A naive sentimentality that's perfect for getting you killed."

The very first time he said that, he had called it 'cheap sentimentality perfect for getting yourself killed'. Now, 'cheap' was gone, replaced by 'naive'. Our relationship had grown closer by exactly that much.

"That naivety can also be a strength sometimes. I've gained Demon Supremes because of it."

"Gained? Do you really think the Demon Supremes are on your side?"

Father truly trusted no one. Perhaps that perspective was essential for the Cult Leader who led the Demonic Cult.

"I believe there are no absolute loyalties in this world, except for a parent's love for their child. However, I'm trying my best not to create a situation where the Demon Supremes' loyalties might change."

People rarely have a sudden change of heart. When people change, it is usually because their situation has changed.

"Are you aware of this? If you get involved with the Fist Demon through martial arts, you'll surely have to fight him one day. He's got a personality that absolutely can't stand losing. That could lead to a result different from your intention."

It was advice he could give because he knew the Fist Demon's personality well. It meant that trying to get closer could make our relationship even worse.

"What happens if I win?"

"His goal will no longer be the cliff, but you."

I paused briefly before speaking to Father.

"Wouldn't a life where you become someone's goal be worth living at least once?"

Father stared at me for a moment, then nodded.

"The Fist Demon will require you to use proper and orthodox methods."

He was telling me not to rely on tricks or luck, but to do my best with standard, proper moves. Father had granted his permission.

"Thank you."

I bowed respectfully to Father and turned to leave. He spoke from behind me.

"From now on, I'll take the white stones."

"Don't you have to win three games in a row for that?"

"That rule changed as of today."

What can I do if the Heavenly Demon himself decides to change it?

"Then I must have my strategist teach me Go as soon as possible."

I went to see the Fist Demon again the next day. He had been absent from training for a few days, but today he was watching the Iron Fists. His reaction to me was the same as the first day. He glanced at me quickly, then his gaze returned to the Iron Fists. However, our relationship was now clearly different.

"May I learn alongside the Iron Fists?"

The Fist Demon looked at me, his face as fierce as ever. Anyone else would say he was glaring as if to kill me, but I could read the emotion in his eyes.

Are you really going to learn fist arts from me?

I answered with a determined look.

"……"

The Fist Demon gave me a contemptuous look, then slowly nodded. His attitude showed he was waiting to see what I would do.

"Thank you."

I unfastened my sword, set it aside, and immediately copied the stance of the Iron Fists.

It was the first time in my life I had learned fist arts. I had never learned them before my regression either.

Fighting without a sword in my hand?

It was hard to imagine.

The Iron Fists swept their astonished eyes over me. The Heavenly Demon's Second Young Lord had stepped up to learn fist arts with them. They would have plenty to talk about over drinks tonight.

The Fist Demon taught me nothing. I just followed the movements of the Iron Fists. A martial art learned by dozens of people could not be the Undefeated Fist Demon's exclusive fist art. It was likely the basic fist art for the Eastern Fist Garrison.

That was even better. I knew that the fist art that could shatter Mount Tai originated from these basic movements.

I performed the movements precisely. I had watched their training for days, and dozens of people were performing the same stance right in front of me. Even if one person performed a stance incorrectly, more did it correctly. Thanks to them, I could assume the correct posture.

When the first day of training ended, everyone dispersed quietly. I left as if I were one of them.

I participated in training the next day as well.

The Iron Fists of the Eastern Fist Garrison were divided into four groups by skill level. The White Fists wore white uniforms, the Green Fists wore blue, the Red Fists wore red, and the Black Fists wore black.

I was with the White Fists. Of course, one should not look down on them. The fact they could enter the Eastern Fist Garrison meant they were no amateurs.

Was training with the White Fists a waste of time?

Not a chance. In fact, it was better because I could build my foundation from the basics.

My martial arts realm was at a level where I could anticipate dozens of variations from a single small movement. From the basic motion of a punch, I envisioned dozens of situations and their variations. The Four Strides of the Wind God and the technique I was performing merged in my mind. Since the Four Strides of the Wind God had merged so brilliantly with the Soaring Sky Sword Art, it naturally formed a fantastic harmony with fist arts as well.

I was engrossed in my fist art training, but the Fist Demon still seemed not to trust me. I could read it on his face.

So what? Do you think you'll show up for a month? A year?

Because he harbored such thoughts, he only sent contemptuous glances my way.

However, his opponent was me. The next day, I even asked a question.

"I have a question!"

My shout startled everyone. I realized I had never seen anyone ask a question during training. They only performed the stances as ordered. I was probably the first.

The Fist Demon was just as surprised. He likely never imagined I would ask a question.

"In the Hidden Tiger Pounces technique, when rotating the right foot, how much can the left foot move?"

Everyone had been keeping their left foot completely fixed, but I thought it would be more effective if it moved slightly.

I felt a stir in my surroundings.

Is this allowed? How dare he ask a question? How will the Fist Demon react? What if we get struck by lightning because of him?

I could feel all sorts of such emotions.

Unexpectedly, however, the Fist Demon answered without any resistance.

"As long as your body doesn't waver when you complete the final rotation, you don't need to restrict the left foot."

Hearing the Fist Demon's clear answer, I tried the technique as he instructed.

My left foot lifted slightly. This was to link to the next technique as quickly as possible. We were practicing each movement separately, but in a real fight, continuous motion was important.

For the first time, the Iron Fists turned their gazes toward me. They did not know it yet. They were not just seeing a change in a technique. They were seeing a change in the long-stagnant training of the Eastern Fist Garrison.

I went to the training ground the next day, and the day after that. I did not ask questions just for the sake of it. I only asked what I was genuinely curious about, and the Iron Fists listened intently. It was as if I were asking the questions they were also curious about but never dared to ask. Some of the Iron Fists started to greet me after training.

After five days, I was executing the techniques with the most proper form among all the Iron Fists there. Some even came to ask me about the movements after training ended.

It was the seventh day. I remained alone to practice even after official training ended. I was becoming engrossed in the new world of fist arts. Putting my situation aside, learning fist arts was fun. I felt the Fist Demon watching me, but I paid him no mind and immersed myself in the technique. I focused only on my extended fist.

What must this fist carry to shatter a cliff?

Finally, the Fist Demon, who had been watching, spoke.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Didn't I tell you I wish to learn fist arts from you, Fist Demon?"

"Are you really trying to become my disciple?"

"If you'll accept me."

The Fist Demon flinched in surprise. A son of the Heavenly Demon had never become a disciple of a Demon Supreme.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. I've already received Father's permission."

"The Cult Leader permitted it?"

"He did."

The Fist Demon realized my resolve was no joke.

"Do you know what kind of person I am?"

"I don't know well. However, the moment you said your goal was to shatter a cliff, I think I became captivated by you, Fist Demon."

My words were half sincerity, half flattery.

"You think a cheap trick like that will work? Do you think I'll support you as the successor if you do this?"

"It's fine if you don't. In fact, please don't. I don't know if you've heard the rumors about me, but my goal is to end this succession selection without shedding blood between brothers. That's why I'm actually reassured that you are with my brother, Fist Demon. Because you will stop my brother if he crosses the line."

"Why do you think I would stop him?"

"Because you're someone who tries to shatter a cliff with your bare fists. You must know that the moment your fist holds despicable conspiracies or schemes, you'll never be able to shatter that cliff."

"!"

"I believe you're the only one, Fist Demon, who can beat up my brother or me if we go crazy in the succession fight. Please stop both of us if we try to cross the line. Please strike us mercilessly with that fist."

I did not avoid his displeased and fierce gaze.

You say you're a man mad for martial arts? When it comes to being crazy about something and digging one path, I'm no less than you.

The next moment!

The Fist Demon's large fist was in front of my face. He threw the punch so quickly that it made no sound of wind. It was as if the fist had been there from the start, right before my face.

The sound exploded afterward.

FWOOOOSH!

A tremendous gust of wind rushed past me from behind.

KRAAAANG!

A large hole had been punched through the wall far behind me.

Amazingly, he had completely blown away the area behind me while leaving my face untouched where the fist had stopped. It was a truly magnificent and transcendent technique.

The Fist Demon stared coldly at me. I had not even blinked at the fist flying toward my face. He then turned and walked away without a word.

I stood in place and watched his back as he walked into the distance.

The more you act like this, the more fiercely the flame in my heart will burn.

At the end of the path, the Fist Demon stopped.

"Starting tomorrow, come to the Green Fists' training ground."