The Last Place Hero's Return-Chapter 140: Interlude – Descendant of the Iron Fist (3)
Cold sweat trickled down my back. “Uh! Well, that is...”
In front of Gilbert, whose eyes were brimming with expectation as he asked about my grades, I was about to confess that I was ranked dead last out of 472 cadets.
Damn it.
Honestly, when I had gotten slammed to the very bottom of the year again after three consecutive suspensions, my feelings had barely amounted to a weary “This again.”
But now that I had to announce my results aloud in front of others, it felt unbearably humiliating. It was especially so because the one asking was the father of my close junior and who was currently under the happy delusion of “My son’s luck has finally turned after meeting such a fine mentor!”
Gilbert tilted his head at my prolonged silence. “What’s the matter?”
Unable to withstand the pressure any longer, my mouth moved on its own. “I... I’m first.”
I swallowed the words “from the bottom” before they could escape.
“Hahaha! Then you should be proud! Why hesitate over something like that? Oh, I see, perhaps you felt embarrassed by the honor?” Clicking his tongue with satisfaction, Gilbert raised his thumb like he had just downed a frosty beer on a scorching summer day. “Top grades, a kind heart that guides juniors, and even humility! Berald, my boy, you’ve truly found yourself a benefactor, a true benefactor!”
Bursting into hearty laughter, Gilbert seized my hand and shook it vigorously.
The real top student of the year, Yurina, looked at me, visibly flustered. “Dale...”
Gilbert asked, “Now that I think about it, Yuren, Camilla, and Iris, they’re all in the same year as you, aren’t they?”
Yurina answered, “Ah, yes.”
Iris nodded too. “That’s right.”
Gilbert’s eyes widened in astonished admiration. “Then that means Dale here beat not only the heir of the Knight of the Sun but also the future Sword of the Holy Empire and even the Saintess herself to seize the top spot? Well, well. The more I think about it, the more impressive it is that Dale stood tall as number one among such formidable talents.”
Yurina’s lips parted as if to explain. “T-that’s...”
However, she clenched her eyes shut and turned her head away before replying, “I... I think so too.”
Gilbert’s face split into a grin so wide it could scarcely stretch further. “Haha! If even the heir of the Knight of the Sun admits it, then that settles it!”
He sprang to his feet, brimming with energy. “None of you has had lunch yet, I presume? On a day as joyous as this, nothing hits the spot like meat! In celebration of my recovery, I’ll grill it myself. Just wait a little! Berald! You’re coming with me to help!”
Berald looked at him in concern. “W-wait, you mean to grill meat the moment you’re out of bed?”
“When your father tells you to come, you don’t argue, boy!” Dragging Berald along, Gilbert stormed out.
That left only me, Yurina, Iris, and Camilla behind in the room. Their gazes, full of cold judgment, landed on me.
“Why did you do that, Dale?”
“Of course, we all know you’re more than skilled enough to deserve first place, but even so, this is a bit much.”
“I find it utterly disappointing.”
My shoulders shrank. Clinging to a shred of hope, I turned toward them and asked, “If I went now and clarified that I was first from the back, would it still be too late?”
The only reply I received was silence.
***
After we feasted on a mountain of meat Gilbert personally grilled, so much that it was almost overwhelming, Gilbert continued asking questions.
“Ahem! So, you still don’t have a girlfriend?” he asked me.
“That’s right.”
“Bah! Pathetic brat! When I was your age, women lined up hoping to court me, you hear?”
Berald immediately interrupted him. “Don’t lie! Mother told me you had to beg on your knees, clutching at her hem, before she finally agreed to marry you!”
“Ghh!”
Gilbert and Berald bantered like this, almost as if making up for the last five years of lost time.
Amid their exchange, Berald gazed at the emptied dishes with a faint smile. “It’s been years since I’ve had a meal with you like this... or even just talked with you, Father.”
Gilbert didn’t say anything.
Berald let out a self-deprecating smile and continued, “Well, I can understand why. From your perspective, Father, I must have always been lacking as a son.”
Gilbert shook his head softly. “No. It was I who was lacking as a father, hesitating to tell you the truth.”
Berald confusedly blinked. “The truth?”
With a deep sigh, Gilbert glanced at me and Iris, who were quietly sipping our post-meal coffee nearby. “You said you used the Legacy of the Iron Fist as an offering to heal my wounds, didn’t you?” 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺
“Ah, yes. That’s correct,” I replied.
Iris nodded. “That’s right.”
Gilbert gave us a wry smile. “In truth, that wasn’t the Legacy of the Iron Fist.”
“What?”
That was not the Iron Fist’s Legacy? What was he talking about?
“To explain, I’ll have to tell you the truth about our Ryu family.”
“Is that something we’re even allowed to hear?” I asked.
“Heh! You saved my son’s life. How could I possibly hide the truth from his saviors?” Gilbert downed half a mug of lukewarm beer in one gulp, then continued, “Have you heard of the Ryu family’s founder?”
“Ah! Yes. If I recall correctly, it was Ryu Jin-Hyuk, the younger brother of the Iron Fist Ryu Jin-Sung and one of the greatest mages of his time.”
Gilbert nodded. “Mm. That’s what they say. But that’s only half true, and half false.”
“Half false? What do you mean?”
“Have you heard the rumor that Ryu Jin-Sung and his brother were bitter enemies?”
“Yes.”
It was a story so widespread in the Republic that few hadn’t heard of it.
Gilbert looked at us. “That rumor... is false.”
“If that wasn’t true, then...”
“In reality, the Iron Fist and his brother were closer than anyone. Their bond as brothers was unshakable.”
“Then why did the story spread that they despised each other?”
“Because Ryu Jin-Hyuk himself deliberately spread it,” Gilbert explained.
Without any words, I turned a questioning gaze to Gilbert. Was he really saying that the younger brother was the one who had spread the rumor that he and his elder brother were mortal enemies?
He lowered his voice and continued, “At that time, the Republic was split clean in two, between factions led by the Iron Fist Ryu Jin-Sung and the Divine Spear Baek Seung-Hyuk.”
They were two of the Great Five Heroes who had sealed away the Demon God and saved the world five hundred years ago. Both hailed from the Republic, which was still called Korea back then. To the people who had been suddenly cast into a strange new world, they were essentially gods. Naturally, people flocked to them, and naturally, conflict was inevitable.
“Baek Seung-Hyuk’s faction was especially extreme. Their calls to assassinate Iron Fist and crown the Divine Spear as president grew louder by the day.”
“I see. So that’s how it was.”
Of course, none of this was taught in the Republic’s schools or even at the Hero Academy.
“As tensions escalated, it was the Iron Fist who chose to step back. He withdrew into a deep canyon and spent the rest of his life in seclusion.”
It was the very canyon we had just visited.
“But,” Gilbert said, pouring himself a fresh pint and downing it in one go, “There’s more to the story that few know. They say the Iron Fist died without leaving behind an heir. That isn’t true. He had a child with his wife, who perished during the war.”
Surprised, I asked, “You mean the Iron Fist had a descendant?”
Gilbert nodded. “Before retreating, he begged his younger brother to hide the child.”
“To protect the child from Baek Seung-Hyuk’s faction,” I added.
“Exactly. And so Ryu Jin-Hyuk raised his brother’s son as if he were his own and, to make the ruse believable, spread the rumor that the brothers had become bitter enemies.”
I was stunned. It had all been a deception, a stratagem devised by the Iron Fist and his brother to protect the child.
At that moment, realization flashed through my mind. “Wait. Don’t tell me...”
I turned sharply toward Gilbert and Berald. My thoughts went back to the film I had once watched with Iris, the one depicting Iron Fist. The towering frame and massive build of Ryu Jin-Sung and the fact that both Gilbert and Berald bore a rugged, almost inhuman sturdiness—they were connected.
Lifting his glass again, Gilbert said with a wry grin. “You’re thinking along the right lines.”
A laugh escaped me, half disbelief, and half awe. This was a truth even I had never known in my previous life.
Berald looked around in confusion, completely lost. “Wait, wait. What’s the right line? What are you talking about?”
I sighed. “It means you’re the Iron Fist’s descendant.”
Berald blinked, slack-jawed. “Huh? Hold on! What are you saying? Me? The Iron Fist’s descendant?”
Gilbert glared at him, his voice sharp. “Quiet, you fool! Do you want the whole world to hear? Our family is said to be a branch of the Ryu family. But in truth, we are the direct bloodline of Ryu Jin-Sung, the Iron Fist.”
Berald’s face was a mix of shock and emptiness, as though the ground had dropped out from under him. “Oh my God!”
Gilbert clicked his tongue. “I had meant to tell you once you graduated. If not for our benefactors here, the truth might have died with me.”
In my previous life, it had indeed never reached him.
Berald immediately asked, “Then... that gauntlet we found in the ruins.”
Gilbert replied, “A decoy. It was put there to draw the eyes of those who would covet the Iron Fist’s legacy. The truth was that it was a gauntlet crafted by Ryu Jin-Hyuk himself for his brother during the war.”
That made me recall the black-and-blue gauntlet, arcing with savage electricity. “Ah! That explains why it unleashed lightning bolts. But if the Iron Fist wielded it, doesn’t that still make it his legacy?”
Gilbert shook his head. “No. He never used it. Apparently, he said such a weapon didn’t suit him and refused his brother’s gift.”
“Unbelievable!”
Even weakened as I was by Laxasia’s Blessing of Exploitation, I had felt the artifact’s terrifying power. And the Iron Fist had rejected it simply because it didn’t fit him. His action was truly worthy of his name.
Gilbert said, “In any case, I kept the true legacy of the Iron Fist safe.”
“And what would that be?”
“Wait here.” He disappeared into the house, then returned with a small box. Inside lay a bundle of old, stained bandages. He solemnly continued, “This is Iron Fist Ryu Jin-Sung’s true legacy.”
I was in disbelief. “These filthy bandages?”
Gilbert chuckled. “Hoho, yes. With these wrapped around his fists, he faced hundreds and thousands of demons.”
Then, he offered them to Berald. “Take them.”
“Me?”
“Yes. They may look like rags, but they are the heritage of our ancestor. Keep them safe.”
Berald accepted the bandages, silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he wound them around his hands. “Ooh! Wearing these, I feel strength welling up inside me!”
Gilbert laughed softly. “Well, they’ve held their shape for five hundred years. Perhaps some magic was imbued into it.”
He watched Berald, pride glimmering faintly in his eyes.
Berald threw a few punches into the air, then clapped his hands together as if struck by revelation. “Ah! That must be why I was never good at magic! I wasn’t a descendant of Ryu Jin-Hyuk, but of the Iron Fist himself!”
Gilbert raised a brow. “Hmm?”
“No wonder! My poor magic skills finally make sense!”
Gilbert snorted. “Wrong. You’re not bad at magic because you’re the Iron Fist’s descendant.”
Berald asked, “Eh? Then why?”
“It’s because you’re an idiot.” With a shrug, Gilbert conjured crackling blue lightning in his hand. “See? I’m the Iron Fist’s descendant too, and I can use magic just fine, you dolt.”
