Chapter 3 …
The last remaining bandit chief actually knew martial arts — and he unleashed them against me.
The attack came so fast that I had no choice but to take the blow head-on.
I thought that was it. That I was about to die.
But… I was fine.
It didn’t even hurt.
That was when I realized it.
I wasn’t just strong.
My body was strong too.
The bandit chief swung his sword at me, the blade shimmering with heat like a mirage — but it didn’t hurt in the slightest.
More than that, I was fascinated.
A sword with a shimmering haze… how interesting.
While he swung madly, trying to kill me, I just stood there, unmoving — letting every blow land as I stared blankly back at him.
To him, I must have looked like a monster.
The bandit chief’s eyes widened in horror. Then, he fell to his knees and begged for his life.
Begged me to spare him.
But then I saw the corpses of the villagers — brutally slaughtered all around us.
Without hesitation, I smashed his face into oblivion.
And that was how I became the sole survivor of the village.
I stayed behind and buried every body under the warm sun.
Then the government troops came.
They asked me what had happened, and I lied — I said the bandits had raided the village and fled.
They wouldn’t have believed me if I said I killed them all.
The soldiers took me to another village.
But life there was hell.
People feared me — the lone survivor. They called me the child of a demon and pointed fingers.
They whispered that disaster would come if I stayed.
They came to harass me constantly.
I endured it.
Again, and again, I endured.
Until one day… I exploded.
In a fit of rage, I laid out a dozen villagers on the ground — all the ones who had tormented me.
Of course, I held back my strength.
I knew what I was capable of.
After that, the bullying stopped — as if it had never happened.
That was when I understood.
Power is truth.
From then on, I lived as I pleased.
If someone bothered me, I didn’t hold back.
And one day, I saw the look in people’s eyes.
Fear.
They were afraid of me.
They called me an Evil Seed (惡種) — the spawn of the devil.
I came to hate people.
I came to hate the world.
But I couldn’t just go around killing everyone, could I?
So I left.
I went deep into the mountains, where no one lived.
There, I began farming — just as I had learned from the old villagers.
Only enough to feed myself.
Living alone brought me peace.
As I tended my fields, I slowly began to forget the bitterness of my past.
Then one day, some strangers appeared.
They barged into my fields, tore out the crops I had grown with care, and started cooking and eating them.
Even worse, they trampled the entire field.
I was angry at first — but I told myself they were guests. So I asked them nicely to restore my field.
They sneered and, unbelievably, charged at me, saying they’d kill me.
At first, I thought about killing them.
But then I changed my mind.
It had been a while since I’d seen people, after all.
I’d just give them a little lesson.
One of them struck my abdomen with his palm.
The sound was deafening.
But that was all.
It stung a little, but that was it.
I scratched my belly, and the man looked at me in disbelief.
“How are you still standing after being hit by my Blood Shadow Sky Palm (血影奔天掌)?! You should be coughing blood and collapsing by now!”
What nonsense.
I said,
“You expect me to cough blood from that? If you want me to do that, you’ll need at least this much power.”
Then I dashed forward and smacked his stomach with my palm.
Smack!
Blood gushed from his mouth as he collapsed unconscious.
The remaining three wore that familiar expression —
like they’d just seen a ghost.
The kind of face that said, This can’t be real.
“He’s not an easy one. Let’s attack together!”
The three charged at once.
One vanished like mist and reappeared right in front of me, stabbing a dagger toward my eye.
Clang!
…Or at least, he thought he did. The dagger bounced off.
I rubbed my eye like it was itchy, and the man’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull in shock.
“A… a monster…”
A monster, huh.
Smack!
I slapped his face — something flew from his mouth, and he collapsed right on top of the first man.
“Aaaah! Die, you monster!”
“You demon bastard!”
Sigh. These guys, really.
I turned to deal with the remaining two —
And then… huh?
Their movements suddenly looked crystal clear.
Huh?
Why could I see them so clearly?
It even felt like I could avoid their attacks.
So I tried dodging — and I did.
But… why were they suddenly moving so slow?
Were they mocking me?
Or trying to trick me into dropping my guard?
I decided to keep dodging, just to see how long this would go on.
After a while, they were panting, exhausted.
They stared at me with that same expression again.
I nodded.
It was time to put them to sleep.
I dashed in and smacked both their faces.
They collapsed on top of the others — a neat pile of unconscious bodies.
That was my first meeting with my “younger brothers.”
They woke up the next day.
Unwilling to accept defeat, they attacked again.
It seemed knocking them out with one hit wasn’t teaching them anything, so I decided to put more effort into it.
That day, I gave them a proper beating.
A week later, they bowed before me, calling me “Elder Brother.”
Ridiculous, since I was clearly younger than all of them.
But they said in the martial world, the strong one is the elder.
So, since I was the strongest, I became their elder brother.
Even after that, they never stopped challenging me.
Every chance they got, they attacked, trying every trick in the book.
Thanks to them, I was never bored.
You could even say it was cute — their little shows of affection.
Of course, I never let it slide.
If they dared attack their elder brother, they had to accept the consequences.
And so, they received the full warmth of my devoted hands.
Their screams of “happiness” still ring in my memory.
“It’ll be a while before I see my brothers again.”
They were known in the martial world as the Four Heavenly Demons of Sichuan (사천신마).
I’d find them later — once I grew up.
Though they were weaklings back then, they gave themselves such grand titles.
Probably just to sound strong.
Honestly, I might not even recognize them.
They won’t recognize me either, will they?
That’d be kind of sad.
So I made up my mind.
I’ll make them my brothers again.
…Maybe I’ve been thinking too much.
I’m getting sleepy.
Meanwhile…
Shiver—
“Ugh! W-what’s with this chill all of a sudden?”
“You too? I just got goosebumps.”
“Damn it… The monster must’ve awakened again.”
“Every time it looks for us, this happens.”
“Already awake? N-no way…”
“Thinking of that thing as human was our mistake. At least we’ve bought some time to run — normally, it would’ve come charging the moment we moved.”
“True. You think it’s hunting for us again?”
“Shut up! Don’t even think that out loud!”
“Let’s focus on mastering Thousand Faces Bone Art. This isn’t the time to relax.”
“Y-yeah! Hurry!”
“Actually… maybe we should split up. If we stay together, the monster’s more likely to find us.”
“You’re right. It’s been nice knowing you. Let’s never see each other again.”
“Agreed. Goodbye.”
And so, the Four Heavenly Demons scattered in all directions after a brief farewell.
Two years later.
A toddler named Jeok Wigang toddled around the martial sect grounds, exploring every corner.
He was so adorable that everyone who saw him smiled brightly.
“Young master, that area’s dangerous. Please don’t go there.”
“Owkay~.”
Wigang’s tongue was still clumsy — he was only two years old, after all.
He toddled toward the library.
It wasn’t very large, but it held quite a number of books.
Lately, Wigang had been visiting it every day.
Everyone who saw that was amazed.
“Our young master must be a genius. At his age, he already loves books this much!”
“Didn’t he finish learning the Thousand-Character Classic at one year old?”
“The whole village called him a prodigy! Did you see the sect master’s face that day?”
“Of course! He was smiling ear to ear all day.”
“I wonder what kind of books he’s reading these days?”
“Seems like martial arts manuals.”
“Martial arts? Could he even understand them?”
“Who knows? Either way, it’s good that he’s interested.”
“True. He’ll achieve great things. Our sect might become the greatest in the Central Plains thanks to him!”
“Let’s keep training hard. We don’t want to disgrace him later.”
“Haha, indeed. Come on, let’s go.”
Wigang heard all their words clearly.
Good people.
He was so happy.
He vowed never to lose his parents again — not in this life.
He now had precious people he needed to protect.
To do that, he had to understand martial arts.
Not to learn some divine technique — he didn’t need that.
His strength already far surpassed anything like that.
What he needed to learn were forms.
He was strong, yes — but his movements were clumsy.
That might work on weaklings like his old “brothers,” but not against true masters.
Having never actually met a real martial arts expert, Wigang dismissed the Four Heavenly Demons as weaklings who bluffed their way through.
He thought true martial masters would never be fooled by his crude, flailing moves — so he needed to learn proper forms.
He didn’t need to cultivate inner energy; he already had more than enough strength.
But still… maybe he should learn it anyway?
After all, he was the son of a martial officer.
Why not? The more, the better.
He even thought, with amusement,
“They call that ‘Dadaiksun’ — the more, the merrier! I sound so refined now.”
He’d been reading a lot lately — and knowledge was power.
To protect his family, he needed to know many things.
To stop those who had taken his parents from him before.
For now, things were peaceful.
But he couldn’t let his guard down.
Who knew when enemies might come to destroy his happiness?
So he decided to avoid martial arts that required inner energy — he couldn’t use it yet, after all.
Eventually, he found one technique that anyone could learn — the Three Talents Fist (三才拳).
For his current physical condition, it was the best choice.
It wasn’t even considered real martial arts by most people — but as a way to strengthen the body, it was excellent.
Whoosh—!
As he threw a punch, the air rippled, followed by a resounding crack.
Hoooom—!
A strong gust from his fist spread outward.
That was the power of a two-year-old’s punch.
Anyone who saw it would have been horrified — but Wigang was dissatisfied.
“Must be because my body’s still small. It’s weaker than I expected.”
It was hard to control his strength.
If he went all out, he’d blow up the house.
He tried to restrain himself like before — but it still felt too weak.
“I’ll just start by mastering the form.”
Wigang began practicing the Three Talents Fist with his tiny arms and legs.
Others dismissed it as a useless, low-grade technique — but to him, it was fun.
Even if it was just simple punching, the fact that he was finally learning proper forms made Jeok Wigang genuinely happy.
