The Indomitable Martial King

The elven maidservants, led by Siris, hurriedly ran along the hills. Behind them, over fifty knights and soldiers gave chase. These were the forces of the Burkiff barony.

“Catch them! Don’t let them escape!”

“They’re the ones who killed the Baron!”

Everyone was chasing the elves with murderous expressions. Not only were they furious about the baron’s death, but all those elven maidservants were slaves borrowed from nearby nobles. If they escaped, the compensation would ruin the Burkiff barony. If that happened, their livelihood would be at risk too, so they were all pursuing the elves with a life-or-death determination.

The distance was gradually closing. Most of the elven maidservants weren’t in great physical condition, so they were slower on their feet. Watching the backs of the nearing elven women, their leader, Sirred, snorted.

“Hmph! No matter how fast they run, they’re just fleas, and no matter how far they flee, they’re still elves!”

It was at that moment. Suddenly, a man wearing a red robe appeared in front of them from the side of the road. He was of average height and build, with a hood pulled over his head, making it impossible to identify him. The man stretched out his hand toward the pursuers and shouted in a deep voice.

“Wall of Fire!”

Whooosh!

A massive wall of flames erupted, blocking the pursuers from the elves. Everyone stopped in their tracks, startled, and stared at the man in the red robe.

“What, what’s this?”

“Is he an accomplice of those elf thieves?”

The man spoke coldly.

“You shall go no further.”

He was Repenhardt, who had been waiting to assist Siris. He had used magic to distort the refractive index of light, making his large frame appear ordinary. If he had been wearing normal clothes, his whole body would have looked distorted and awkward, but since he was fully covered by a large robe, he looked quite natural.

Sirred, who was momentarily taken aback, soon recovered and shouted.

“He’s a mage! Don’t give him a chance to use magic, take him down!”

Three knights at the forefront quickly charged at Repenhardt. The way they closed the distance and thrust their swords proved they were seasoned warriors.

Just as the three blades were about to pierce Repenhardt’s body.

“Hup!”

With a short shout, Repenhardt swung his right hand broadly, deflecting all the attacks. The blades veered off course, causing the knights to tumble to the left.

“Huh?”

“Ugh!”

Crash!

The three knights toppled over each other in a messy heap. Sirred, watching, was aghast and his mouth fell open.

‘What is this? That technique?’

It was no ordinary skill. He hadn’t simply deflected the attack but had cleverly redirected the knights’ strikes, using their own force to throw them off balance.

“Is he a Magic Fist Practitioner? But how could a Magic Fist Practitioner use such advanced techniques…?”

Even Sirred, who had trained in martial arts all his life, couldn’t imagine himself replicating such a move.

Looking down at the fallen knights, Repenhardt grinned.

“Hmm, I can finally feel the flow of power.”

After being severely beaten by Teslon, he had started to take martial arts seriously.

It wasn’t just ground wrestling that he had learned. During his usual training, he delved deeply into each technique and movement with seriousness. He pondered the meaning behind every punch and kick, no matter how light.

The same went for his aura. He focused on increasing his proficiency by constantly facing off against Russ and Tassid whenever he had the chance. He put all his effort into feeling and controlling the flow of aura. He couldn’t allow himself to be defeated miserably by Teslon again.

Repenhardt flicked his fingers towards the fallen knights.

“Electronic Stun!”

Crackle!

Electricity surged out, striking the fallen knights. After incapacitating them, Repenhardt turned his gaze towards the others.

‘Should I deal with the rest as well?’

Sirred shouted.

“He’s a Magic Fist Practitioner! Everyone, charge and attack from all sides!”

Unlike mages, it was common knowledge on the battlefield that Magic Fist Practitioners couldn’t use wide-area spells, so Sirred ordered a spread-out attack. The knights and soldiers formed a pincer formation and charged at Repenhardt.

Enemies rushed in from all directions with irregular movements. Repenhardt closed his eyes and extended his senses.

‘Hup!’

His sensory field covered a 30-meter radius. He could vividly feel the presence of every living being within that range. This level of perception was something he had already achieved.

But now, he could also feel their spacing and breathing.

A true martial artist valued spacing and breathing more than speed or power. Repenhardt, who had begun to seriously study martial arts, was now understanding this principle.

Repenhardt opened his eyes again.

A chant flowed from his lips.

“Light, come to my hand, become a flash that calls for destruction.”

He assessed the enemies’ spacing, breathing, and positions through his sensory perception. Using this ‘information,’ he calculated their spatial coordinates with the precision of a mage.

‘Targeting!’

With the insight of a martial artist, he predicted their movements back and forth, drawing numerous trajectories. As a mage, he engraved in his mind the intersections of fifty overlapping trajectories.

‘Marking!’

Repenhardt spread his arms wide, summoning his full magical power as he chanted the incantation.

“Arcane Strike Final Decision!”

Boom!

Dozens of flashes of light shot out in all directions, striking every knight and soldier rushing toward him. The flashes embedded into their bodies and exploded simultaneously. The field was filled with a continuous series of explosions, painting the landscape with brilliant bursts of flames. All fifty soldiers were hit without exception, screaming as they were thrown into the air.

“Argh!”

Even as he was thrown back, Sired muttered in disbelief through his dazed mind.

“How can such magic exist…?”

Repenhardt, who had decimated the enemies with a single attack, lifted his head. In the distance, he saw the mansion of Baron Burkiff. The ballroom attached to it was ablaze, casting a glow into the night sky.

Having lost their lord and their stolen Elven slaves, the future of Baron Burkiff’s house was bleak. With a mountain of debt and their title stripped, they were doomed to a miserable downfall. While it was not uncommon for nobles on the continent to use Elven slaves, it was still quite bitter for them to meet such a fate.

But Repenhardt did not pity them.

“Just because everyone commits a sin, it does not mean one should lament paying for their own,” he thought.

He turned his steps away. The Elves had already disappeared into the darkness. Siris, as promised, was likely leading them to the rendezvous point.

Besides Siris, his companions were rescuing various other races across the continent.

Dwarves, Trolls, Orcs, Elves.

Those without freedom, those who had lost their freedom, those who had forgotten freedom, those who did not know freedom…

These were the ones who truly had the right to feel wronged, having been oppressed by fate.

Walking to join Siris, Repenhardt murmured softly.

“Everyone must realize just how deeply their tears have soaked into this world.”

* * *

A vast, pure white expanse stretched to the horizon.

Within this pseudo-space, created by powerful ancient powers, stood a colossal temple. The pristine and immaculate temple felt almost unreal, with not a single blemish to mar its perfection. In the grand hall at the center of this temple, thirteen men and women had gathered.

These individuals, diverse in gender and age, were all dressed in pure white robes with silver holy symbols pinned to their chests. They were the Silver Sages, the protectors of humanity, and among them were the highest-ranking Silver Guardians.

A middle-aged man with a dignified appearance addressed the Guardians.

“A mudfish is causing chaos in the world.”

A young-looking blond man shrugged and responded.

“If he’s an Aura User at the level of the Fist Emperor, calling him a mudfish isn’t quite right, don’t you think, Guardian Shitulaan?”

The middle-aged man nodded and corrected himself.

“An eel is causing chaos in the world.”

“……”

The blond man stared at Guardian Shitulaan in bewilderment. Was he joking? But Shitulaan’s expression was serious, with no hint of humor. Considering the true power of the Silver Sages, it wasn’t surprising that an Aura User was being referred to as an eel.

An elderly man with a white beard raised his hand to speak.

“Fist Emperor Repenhardt is an Aura User. Notable Aura Users or 9th-circle Archmages have significant influence in the world. If we handle him recklessly, it could appear unnatural. It’s better to continue diminishing his influence by dealing with his surroundings as we’ve always done, don’t you think?”

If someone like an Aura User or an Archmage were to die under unusual circumstances, people might become suspicious and investigate. This could potentially expose the existence of the Silver Sages.

The blond man chuckled.

“Guardian Daos, it’s amusing to hear you worry about secrecy after you brought Sage Restin into our ranks.”

He was referring to the Silver Sage, known in the secular world as Teslon.

The Silver Sages were not a group that accepted outsiders. Their positions were inherited within trustworthy families, and secrets were never shared with outsiders.

In essence, the members of the Silver Sages were born into their roles. No matter how appealing an outsider seemed, they would not be recruited into the Silver Sages. This secretive group was not a mercenary band; they were an extremely clandestine society. It wouldn’t be possible to maintain their secrets if they indiscriminately recruited powerful warriors or mages.

Guardian Daos responded calmly.

“Guardian Arclight, Sage Restin already knew about the Silver Sage. He came to us in agreement with our intentions, and although it goes against tradition, we found no reason to reject him.”

The blond man raised his hands and stepped back slightly.

“Well, I’m not saying you’re wrong. It’s just amusing.”

“I ask you to refrain from such comments. The current agenda is not about Sage Restin.”

“Yes, yes.”

The blond man crossed his arms and settled into his chair. Another elderly man beside him shook his head.

“Guardian Daos is right. That’s why we observed him for now. It could just be an unusual taste. But if you look at his actions, it’s clear. Fist King Repenhardt undeniably harbors impure thoughts.”

A middle-aged woman, appearing to be in her mid-forties, nodded in agreement.

“That’s right. He’s not just an occasional lover of different races. He seems to have a clear ideology and vision of his own.”

A well-preserved elderly man, whose handsome features suggested he was quite attractive in his youth, looked around the group and began to speak.

“His age is young. And his ideology is firm and distinct. New ideas that break the old never come overnight. They undergo emotional changes and gradually systematize, leading to rational judgment, which completes one’s ideology. Given his age, it’s hard to believe he realized everything entirely on his own.”

“Then he must have a mentor. Someone who imparted ideological teachings to him.”

“Then we can’t leave the mentor alone either.”

The guardians expressed their agreement one after another.

“His influence is already spreading across the continent. We cannot stand idly by.”

He took out a purple crystal and held it out in front of him. The other guardians also took out crystals from their pockets. The blond man, too, grabbed his crystal with a sullen expression.

Shitulaan asked, “Have you all decided?”

The twelve purple crystals emitted light simultaneously. Looking at the twelve pillars of light, Daos murmured, “Unanimous.”

Shitulaan nodded and spoke.

“In the name of the Guardians of Humanity and the Silver Sage…”

The remaining eleven guardians also nodded. Shitulaan declared firmly, as if driving a nail.

“From this moment on, the Silver Sage designates Fist King Repenhardt as a target for annihilation. Him, and everything related to him.”