The Legend of Fist God

05 - The First Punch Toward Freedom

“What? You don’t want to go with me?” Raha’s face was stricken by confusion. “Are you stupid? There’ll likely be monsters outside. You think you can fight them and make it back home by yourself?”

Gunnar’s mouth turned down. “The people at my home won’t miss me.”

“Huh?” She stared at him, baffled. “What are you saying? Don’t you have parents and siblings and friends?”

“They won’t miss me,” he added. “I want to stay here and become stronger.”

“There are no martial art manuals here,” she said. “And you don’t have an instructor, either. How are you going to get stronger, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Gunnar said, looking like a stubborn child. “But I think I’m feeling hotter ever since I ate the bananas.”

Raha’s eyes widened. “That means… the immortium is affecting you now! The fruits are not just a blessing to you! They’re also a curse! You shouldn’t stay here for long, or your body will break.”

“My body is already broken,” Gunnar said. “You should go. I’ve decided to stay here since there’s food and water.”

Raha frowned. “Are you sure?”

Gunnar nodded twice.

She squinted her eyes. “You’re not staying here for the treasure, right? No amount of coin is worth more than your life.”

“I’m staying here to train myself,” Gunnar raised his hands and folded them into fists. “I want my punches to get powderful like your sword slashes.”

Raha stared at him for a few seconds without blinking. It didn’t seem like he was lying.

“Fine,” she sighed. “If I manage to get to my clan safely, I’ll try my best to come back for you.”

“No, you don’t have to,” Gunnar’s reply startled her. “I will not leave this place until I’m confident in my strength.”

She could feel the resolve in his voice. She was beginning to understand why he jumped in to save her from the crocodile, risking his own life in the process.

She remembered him telling that he would grow strong enough that nobody would laugh at his fists.

“If that’s what you want, then I won’t say more,” Raha said, sighing. “If fate allows it, we’ll meet again. I will not forget your kindness, Gunnar.”

Afterward, Raha plucked some fruits and herbs, packed them in a ragged cloth, then went up the stairs.

She didn’t carry any gold with her except two swords. One sword was a backup in case one were to get broken.

“May the heavens favor you!” Gunnar shouted from below.

Raha’s serious expression softened a bit, and she smiled. “You, too.” Saying that she went up the staircase and through the ceiling.

“She lost an arm,” Gunnar thought. “I hope she makes it back home safely.” He walked back into the chamber. “Home… I can’t go back as the weakling that I am.”

Gunnar was born with a weak body.

In his childhood, his bones would break easily whenever he fell to his knees or tried to punch something or got punched by someone.

Everybody gave up on him, so he had to work hard to gather herbs that would strengthen his body on his own.

Thanks to his hard work over the years, his body strengthened to the point his wrist wouldn’t break even if he were to hit a softened boulder.

He was still catching up with the average human his age, and he wasn’t satisfied with himself at all.

He wanted to get much stronger because he was not at all content with his punches.

Everyone in the clan called him a weakling.

Disregarding the weak body he was born with, they would laugh at the lack of the sound of his fists moving through the air.

Even his own brothers would snicker at his lackluster strength.

And his parents also had given up on him completely.

Nobody had any expectations on him, which was why he wanted to prove them all wrong.

So he did not want to return to his clan without getting stronger.

Gunnar went over to the boulder where the text was written. “ If you believe in your fists, you shall find freedom here,” he read the words carved on it.

“Freedom, huh… I’ve never really looked at it that way,” he walked over to the wall which had thousands of fist imprints everywhere.

And he noticed the foot imprints on the ground, too, which was also made out of immortium.

Gunnar removed his wooden footwear, and suddenly the pull of energy from this black flooring increased very much. It was like standing on top of ice. All his body heat was being absorbed.

Bearing the cold, he tried to craft his posture depending on these imprints and threw a punch at the wall, his first punch toward freedom.

The moment his foot pressed the ground and his fist contacted the wall, he felt his energy being ripped away at once.

“Kugh,” he immediately pulled his fist back and jumped on his feet. He felt a stinging pain in his hand and his feet. It was worse than standing on pikes. The muscle pain on top of that made his knees grow terribly weak.

Just then, he remembered what Raha said.

“Right, she said that touching this immortium for too long would kill me…” he thought. “It must be absorbing my energy all the time, but the moment I try to strike it with intent, it’s rapidly sucking a lot more energy from me.”

He tried to clench his fist, but it was proving difficult.

“I already feel weak like I’m sick from a fever or something. If just one punch is making me this weak, then I have a really long way to go. I can’t go on like this.”

Gunnar went back to the fruit room.

Raha had already cut dozens of those banana-like fruits and other fruits and herbs for him.

“There aren’t many of them, so I have to eat them carefully. By the time they are over, I should get strong enough that I’ll be able to peel these bananas on my own. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to leave this chamber! I can’t let that happen no matter what!”

Even though the bananas were plucked, they weren’t peeled yet.

Gunnar had to use a dagger in the weapons room and use it like a saw to cut its shell and split it in two.

Nearly four incense sticks would have burned in this time, but it was worth it as he again felt energized after eating the fruit. A bit feverish, almost.

“I feel like my body is burning. It seems I can’t eat as many fruits as I want.”

Gunnar’s face had mixed emotions. He felt like he was learning things even while peeling the fruit, but he was still dissatisfied.

“I can’t spend so much time just peeling a fruit. I have to get better at it.”

Even though there was no guarantee that he’d get stronger just by punching the wall using the imprints on the wall and the floor, he strongly believed the words written on the boulder.

“If this place breaks me,” Gunnar returned to the walls and resumed punching, “then I’ll rebuild myself from what remains.”