I drew my sword and leveled it.

A movement I had repeated hundreds, no, thousands of times—my internal energy flowed naturally, awakening every sense in my body.

My five senses sharpened, allowing me to perceive the world more precisely, and the killing intent that exuded instinctively merged with my aura, responding to any hint of hostility in the surrounding area.

And then, my sword.

From the blade, now wreathed in a crimson-red aura close to the color of blood, rose the history I had carved out with every battle—thick with killing intent.

All of it for one purpose: the death of the Bloodflame Fist Demon.

He flinched when he faced the full force of my killing intent and narrowed his eyes.

“You. Why are you standing over there?”

“You acted like you were about to fight any moment, and now you’re asking me that?”

No matter how intense my killing aura was, it wasn’t enough to make a Sub-Perfection master hesitate. At most, it would slow them down a little.

Instead of striking with his flame-wreathed fists, the Bloodflame Fist Demon opened his mouth to talk.

“Your aura… it’s certainly not ordinary, but I’ve seen that kind of killing intent before. There were quite a few maniacs in the Demonic Cult who carried that same stench. How can someone like you stand on the side of the orthodox sects?”

“What nonsense are you spewing now?”

He must’ve felt something from the imagery within my killing aura and deluded himself into thinking we shared the same ideals.

“If our goals are aligned… if you’re hiding in the Tang Clan just to wait for the right time—then perhaps we can talk.”

“Are you suggesting I join the Demonic Cult?”

“I’m saying, if you want to, I’ll help you.”

“Hah.”

I let out a short, incredulous laugh.

Sure, the darkness I harbored might resemble the Demonic Cult’s—but still.

“Typical cultists. Always thinking they’re the victims of the world.”

“No more talk. Raise your fists—or offer your neck. If there’s anyone I need to take revenge on, it’s people like you.”

The Yin Qi I’d received from Seol Lihyang wouldn’t last long.

I had stalled for time earlier to let her finish the transfer, but now, I had to strike before that energy dissipated meaninglessly.

Instead of continuing the conversation, I exploded my internal energy from my Yongcheon point and stepped forward using Thunderclap Step.

Kkwaang!

The distance between us closed in a flash. I aimed for the nape of his neck, attacking that thin margin—just outside his fist’s reach, but within my sword’s range.

“Ha!”

The Bloodflame Fist Demon scoffed, casually thrusting his fist toward me. I could already guess what he was thinking.

He figured that even if my level was high, I didn’t have the accumulated energy to match him, and he’d simply overpower me with brute strength.

It was a logical conclusion. My internal energy was pitiful compared to his.

But when fists and blades clash, it’s not just about the amount of energy. There’s something far more important.

Ssskuk.

“What the hell…?!”

The Bloodflame Fist Demon recoiled in shock as his sleeve and the back of his hand were lightly sliced.

Shame. I had aimed to cleave him wide open while he was caught off guard.

“How… what did you just do?!”

“I didn’t do anything. Guess your fists got soft, only ever picking fights with those weaker than you.”

Half of it was just to provoke him—but the other half was the truth.

Fist masters harden their bodies and refine their techniques to withstand bladed attacks when facing armed opponents.

But the Bloodflame Fist Demon always swung his fists to efficiently burn weaker enemies.

As a result, he could manipulate his Bloodflame Serpent Demon Art with more heat, more range, more finesse.

He had extended his mastery beyond normal limits, stepping into the realm of advanced external energy techniques.

But in doing so, he’d strayed from the essence of what it meant to be a fist master.

An indestructible body that cannot be cut. An absolute fist that nothing can block.

That’s every fist master’s dream. But the Bloodflame Fist Demon gave that up in pursuit of a more efficient way to incinerate the weak.

Naturally, with gain comes loss.

His energy became more potent, his control more refined—

But as a fist master, he had regressed.

Meanwhile, my sword had been honed to cut down those stronger than me.

I couldn’t burn down houses or shatter levees like him—

But my blade was sharp.

And even if he had let his guard down, the fact that he was wounded so easily was proof of that.

He seemed to realize it too, as his face turned red, then pale, and he drew up his energy even more fiercely.

“You bastard!”

Unlike a moment ago, when it had just been hot, the distinct heat of Yang Qi now began choking the air.

At the same time, the Yin Qi from Seol Lihyang responded instinctively, beginning to spread within me. I guided it through my body and spoke.

“So now you’re finally taking this seriously.”

“Fine. If you truly can’t stand with the Demonic Cult, then I have no choice.”

The Bloodflame Fist Demon lowered his stance, assuming a ready position—but it was unlike any typical fist stance.

Most guard stances are designed to allow for swift movements or easy responses to enemy attacks.

Even though forms vary, they generally minimize openings and allow for efficient strikes.

But his was different.

He spread his arms wide, elbows bent in an awkward position. It looked full of openings, even if it allowed quick strikes.

But I knew better. I’d faced him too many times before I regressed.

That posture wasn’t for punching—it was to discharge internal energy through his fists.

He channeled the Bloodflame Serpent Demon Art to its limit. Flames erupted even more violently from the fist I had cut earlier.

The fire consumed his blood and flared up even higher—then suddenly burst forth.

Ffwoosh!

Like a snake slithering along the ground, the flame twisted through the air in a sinister curve. I slashed through it with my sword, which was cloaked in dense energy.

The flaming snake scattered the moment my sword passed through it. But the heat remained.

Sharp Yang Qi seeped into the surrounding air, making it hard to breathe. Even the scattered remnants of his fist aura penetrated my sword aura, trying to burn my palm.

Just as Seol Lihyang had infused Yin Qi through a weapon, the Bloodflame Fist Demon was doing the same with his flames.

Normally, this is where my body would begin to dry out.

Even if I countered his strange technique and cut through it with my sharp blade, the mere graze of his energy would scorch my internal qi and send Yang Qi into overdrive.

But once again, Seol Lihyang’s Yin Qi responded.

A cool current swept through me, quenching the rising heat. I tightened my grip on the sword.

Before this Yin Qi runs out—I need to defeat him.

With that single-minded determination, I swung my sword.

“Hnnngh…!”

My sword, brimming with killing intent, aimed for his vital points—his forehead, neck, heart, wrist tendons, armpits…

Each sword swing naturally became the setup for the next, never allowing a pause in my onslaught.

I refined the boiling killing intent born of completed vengeance, focusing it solely on the enemy before me.

And every time my blood-colored blade carved a dazzling arc through the air, red lines appeared on the Bloodflame Fist Demon’s body and droplets of blood splattered.

He couldn’t fully take advantage of his Yang Qi, and thus, despite being Sub-Perfection, he wasn’t overwhelmingly dangerous.

He could dominate the weak—but against someone of equal or greater level, he couldn’t bring out his full strength.

I may not have reached full Sub-Perfection yet, and both my energy and physique were inferior—

But my sword had long surpassed his fists. So this outcome was natural.

Of course, he wasn’t going to just take the beating.

“You freak! I don’t know how you’re holding up—but it won’t last long!”

The Bloodflame Fist Demon had realized I had a way to endure his overwhelming Yang Qi—and that it was only temporary.

His Bloodflame Serpent Demon Art blazed fiercer than ever, feeding off both his fists and his fresh wounds.

Black-red flames now covered his whole body, looking almost like protective Qi armor.

But unlike true Qi armor forged through willpower, this was a crude imitation—he was simply flooding his internal energy outward.

It was inefficient. But unfortunately, it was effective against me.

The Yin Qi from Seol Lihyang wasn’t my own, so I couldn’t control it. It only responded instinctively to the surrounding Yang Qi, trying to restore balance.

Even if the enemy’s energy didn’t carry clear intent, as long as it was Yang-based, the Yin Qi would react by matching and canceling it.

If the Bloodflame Fist Demon kept wasting his energy like this, the Yin Qi would be wasted too.

Like snow falling onto a hot stove—it melted in an instant.

And the heat I had been ignoring until now suddenly surged into awareness.

The strand of coolness that had been inside me thinned and finally vanished.

Now, every time I blocked his fists or cut through his flames, Yang Qi rode the attacks in and threatened to cause internal injuries.

The burning pain within, and the mental and internal energy it took to resist it—

Even with the perfect unity of sword and spirit, my momentum faltered as my strength waned.

Kkwaang!

Instead of a slicing sound, I heard the sound of a collision. For the first time, my sword failed to cleanly cut through his fist.

The Bloodflame Fist Demon grinned.

“Looks like your trump card’s already used up. Now it’s my turn.”

“No. Not yet.”

I grit my teeth and swung my sword again. Ignoring the pain, I refocused and condensed my sword energy.

Seol Lihyang’s Yin Qi was gone, but the Bloodflame Fist Demon had also overexerted himself.

And he was still being slowed by the residual killing intent swarming from all directions.

I could still fight. Or so I thought—

Sswaeeek! Kwadeuk!

My sword slashed toward his waist, ready to slice him in half—but was blocked by his flame-wrapped hand.

It didn’t block everything, as blood flowed from his palm—but even before it could hit the ground, it ignited and added fuel to his fire.

“Got you.”

“Like hell you do!”

I tried to pull my sword back, but the Bloodflame Fist Demon held it tight, ignoring the wound on his palm, and began forcing his energy into the blade.

Ffwoosh!

The flames reacted to the blood from his palm and instantly swelled.

The heat devoured the blade.

I tried to counter by forcing in my own energy—but at most, it bought me a few seconds.

It wasn’t just a matter of energy quantity—his control was on another level.

Even if his fist techniques had stagnated for over a decade, his mastery of internal energy had steadily advanced.

In the end, my sword—crafted from solid black iron—turned red-hot.

The blade, which should have felt like an extension of my own body, now began burning me.

Ssskkk!

The searing pain in my palm was joined by the stench of burning flesh.

I should let go.

But I couldn’t. The only advantage I had over him was my swordsmanship.

If I let go, I might live a little longer—but soon, the flames would jump to my body.

So I endured.

Even if I lost the use of my hands, I could not back down now.

Just as I tried to pour all my remaining internal energy into the blade to sharpen it—

A familiar song drifted through the air.

At the same time, the heat from the Bloodflame Serpent Demon Art noticeably weakened, and the oppressive presence of Yang Qi dropped.

Both the Bloodflame Fist Demon and I turned to look—only to find Seol Lihyang, who should’ve been in hiding, standing tall before us.

Frost sparkled at her feet. Her eyes gleamed with chilling resolve. And her voice rode a wave of energy that tore through space.

“Oh…”

In that moment—she looked just like she had before my regression.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep