The Demon Lord of the Swordsmanship Family Chapter 19
“Friend…”
It was a pristine weekend morning, with no plans to head to the gate.
Returning to my family estate after a long time, I found myself pondering over the word “friend” that the two children had mentioned yesterday.
“To be considered a friend because we’re together… How novel.”
It was a term just as unfamiliar as the concept of family.
But if family was a blessing denied to me, then friendship was a relationship I hadn’t allowed myself.
Should I say it’s the difference between passive and active?
I reflected deeply. Why had I never made friends in my past life?
Was it because there were no people?
I shook my head.
How could it be that no one approached me? In the era when I was the Demon Lord, I was—both objectively and subjectively—a flawless individual.
Do I sound too boastful?
Does it embarrass you to hear someone speak of breathing as if it’s surprising? This is similar. It’s just natural.
Talent, ability, background—there was nothing lacking. My appearance was nothing short of perfect as well.
A certain magazine even described me as, “A man who evokes the protective instinct, but one can’t tell what he hides inside. That’s why this man is so alluring.” They practically gilded me with their praise.
As a result, I was classified as a special S-class prospect in the aristocratic marriage market. That wretched emperor even picked me out to be his son-in-law.
How many people, seeking friendship, approached me—a person everyone coveted?
And yet, none.
No friends.
Why? Upon reflection, it was simple. I only looked forward.
Perhaps it was inevitable.
I was a commoner in an age where commoners weren’t even treated as equals. A destitute commoner who wandered the back alleys. To cling to the dream of living “with style,” how much capability would I need?
If I wanted to act as I pleased, without restraint, without regard for others?
For instance, I once used an invitation from an aristocratic house as kindling. I would regularly insult the emperor, telling him outright, “You’re absolutely incompetent,” without hesitation.
To act so recklessly, how much ability would one need?
Ordinary skill would get you beheaded. Talent alone wouldn’t suffice to describe it.
An irreplaceable force. An overwhelming, insurmountable power.
That was why I needed strength.
That’s why I became the Demon Lord.
“So, that’s why it felt awkward when Mary and Joon-woo mentioned the word friend.”
It wasn’t the word “friend” that felt unfamiliar—it was me receiving it.
If I had been chasing power as zealously as in my past life, I wouldn’t have been so moved by their words. I would have dismissed it and continued my work.
But it’s different now.
“Honestly, I’ve kinda grown fond of the idea of ‘friendship.’”
Clearly, my life has changed from my past.
What caused this change?
Was it the new vessel? The family? The environment?
Yes, all of those could be reasons. But they’re not the final answer.
After pondering all night, I realized the answer now.
“It’s ultimately about strength.”
Strength.
The strength to stand firm.
The strength to pursue my dreams.
It’s only because I have confidence in my power that I can freely rejoice in my newfound family or protect this happiness.
The same applies to friendship. Because I possess strength, I’ve found the leisure to respond to the idea of friendship.
Might makes right!
Indeed, strength is all-powerful!
“I’ve found one more reason to grow stronger.”
This was truly a costly insight.
I smirked and stood up, feeling relieved.
A faint voice, “Ki-hyuk, that’s not right!” seemed to resonate in my ear, but it must have been my imagination.
Yeah, that’s right.
Strength can’t be wrong.
…
After gaining this costly insight…
In the basement of the estate, I entered the lab my mother had prepared for me and immediately began my work.
What kind of work?
Of course, it was the work to grow stronger.
“My recent focus has been too much on the kids, and I’ve neglected myself.”
I needed an adaptation period, but I’m not making excuses.
Blaming others is the worst thing one can do.
I reflect on my laziness from yesterday and whip myself into action today.
Work, Park Ki-hyuk!
“Let’s start with the basics.”
As I’ve emphasized multiple times, the foundation of strength lies in understanding yourself objectively.
I enter a state of introspection.
The forces that currently make up my body are as follows:
Demon Lord of Sorcery (마도의 마왕)
Giant of the Flesh (육체의 거인)
Sword Tiger of the Bloodline (혈족의 검호)
These three forces maintain a… what should I call it? Balance? No, that word is too peaceful. It’s more like a territory conflict. And the power that initially held the upper hand?
I write “Demon Lord” in large letters on the whiteboard.
The power that I’ve used the most and am most confident in—my original strength: the Demon Lord.
I overcame the minor handicap of Mana Deficiency Syndrome, caused by the Giant’s flesh, by constructing a “structural mana hole” with Baphomet, and it’s not been a problem since.
Strengthening, acquiring, and commanding Skeletons, or manifesting curses from a necromancer’s incantations…
It’s like pulling candies out of a jar—skills I’ve honed for life, so what’s the difficulty?
It was like walking on earth while swimming.
“However, a problem arises here.”
Next, I draw a rectangular box labeled “Giant” below “Demon Lord.” The two are depicted as if invading each other’s territory.
An amusing drawing, but there’s nothing that expresses the situation better.
The stronger the Demon Lord’s power grew within me, the greater the presence of the Giant became.
At first, I thought the Giant was merely strengthening itself out of competition, like the “mackerel effect.” Imagine a stagnant ecosystem thrown into chaos with the sudden appearance of a predator. Balance is disrupted as the creatures struggle to survive, and the ecosystem as a whole becomes more vibrant.
I assumed that the Giant was responding to the Demon Lord’s strength like the mackerel effect.
But that wasn’t the case. For some unknown reason, these two forces were inexplicably hostile toward each other.
If I had to describe it, it felt like being caught in a bizarre romance drama—a classic love triangle.
The Giant inside me seemed to say,
“How dare you play around with that kind of power without me?”
And then the Demon Lord chimed in.
“Hmph, don’t play with that kind of power. I’m here, you know.”
And it went on like that, back and forth.
Now, I find myself not only managing powers but engaging in an absurd form of pseudo-romance with them. How ridiculous.
The problem is, as this nonsensical comedy repeats, my body’s balance begins to gradually deteriorate.
So, at first, I gave my support to the power I was most familiar with—”Demon Lord.” Considering the time we’d spent together, it was like standing by my first wife, wouldn’t you agree?
Coincidentally, while teaching Mary about incantations, I elevated my soul’s caliber, and my method seemed to succeed.
Until I picked up the sword.
“Ah, maybe I shouldn’t have picked up that sword.”
The sparring with Joon-woo.
I felt the surge of interest upon witnessing Joon-woo’s “Dancer” power, and instinctively grabbed a sword. It was then that I faced something I’d never dealt with before.
The crazed tiger asleep in my bl**d.
“What an idiot.”
Scribble, scribble.
I draw a sword on the whiteboard. It’s shaped like a sharp, pointed rapier.
A circle, a square, a triangle.
To the unknowing, it might look like a mere geometry game.
But I know better.
Cold sweat trickles down my spine.
This sharp edge isn’t just cutting through my body recklessly—any human would be gravely concerned.
This “Sword Master” is an exceedingly dangerous power. Compared to the Demon Lord or the Giant, it stimulates the most primal instincts buried deep within me.
“Explosive release of all physical potential, wielding the sword through the optimal path to slay the enemy.”
The murderous intent that arose then wasn’t the kind a human could possess.
It was more akin to the energy of a predator facing its prey.
As a result, enemies below a certain threshold are completely incapacitated just by exposure to this murderous intent. It even pierces the enemy’s information and psychology.
The consumption cost for wielding this inhuman power?
Surprisingly, zero.
There’s no cost at all.
The sole condition?
“Grab the sword.”
That’s all it takes.
To exaggerate, the moment you pick up the sword, it starts operating like a programmed machine, efficiently eliminating the opponent.
A high-performance killing machine, one could say.
It was a peculiar sensation.
Even though it was familiar swordsmanship, it transformed into an entirely new form, creating unprecedented techniques on the spot.
This brutally powerful force known as the “Sword Master.”
Unfortunately, it’s equally difficult to control.
Exceedingly difficult.
Even a fraction of negligence could land me in the position of being controlled by this power, watching my body from the sidelines.
Even me, the former Demon Lord, must maintain my awareness to resist this force. An ordinary person? It’s out of the question.
Speaking of which, the reason I couldn’t wield a sword while sparring with Mary and Joon-woo was this.
I feared I might k*ll them.
Honestly, even during that initial mock fight with a wooden sword, it was risky. The instinct was overpowering. I could have easily succumbed.
In such a way, the Sword Master was a completely different type of power than anything I’d experienced before, and thus, I cannot confidently claim to fully control it.
“Demon Lord, Giant, Sword Master.”
These three forces within me relentlessly bare their fangs, vying to occupy even a fraction more of my body.
And that’s the situation I’m in right now.
For this reason, the balance of my body is continuously breaking down, even as I write this.
And what happens if this situation continues to worsen?
What’s there to say? Eventually, something’s bound to break.
So, what’s the solution? I wrote “Solution” in large letters on the board.
“The easiest solution would be time.”
The human body has an adaptability far beyond what we imagine. Given appropriate rest and sufficient time, the conflict between the three forces inside me would calm down and eventually reach equilibrium.
But this method, though stable, takes too much time.
“Idle waiting doesn’t fit my style either.”
Do I look like someone who can endure patiently?
Far from it.
Needless to say, that’s a pass.
“Then, the next option.”
A few days ago, I realized this method while at the playground in front of our house.
I saw three little kids fighting. Thankfully, they weren’t punching because of my watchful eye, but the atmosphere was tense.
But later, they ended up walking off together, arm in arm, heading to the convenience store.
The reason was remarkable.
Because of hunger.
In the midst of their loud quarrels, hunger set in, and once hunger hit, the fight before them didn’t seem significant anymore.
That’s when I thought—if fighting hotly could wear them out, perhaps the rowdy forces inside me would grow tired and simply settle down like those children, grabbing a Cup Noodle or two.
“So, children fight and grow, right? Wouldn’t the same be good for you?”
I smiled mischievously at my reflection in the mirror.
“I’ll create a stage for you. Go wild.”
I’ll prepare the finest stage with the finest ingredients.
“Hang on just a little longer.”
And as if aiding my choice, a few days later, an unexpected opportunity falls into my lap.
“Am I supposed to handle this?”
