God of Massacre (4)
The Dark Champion sat with the Dark Ideal at a makeshift bar in the night market, sipping their drinks and waiting for news.
“Today, we’ll finish him off for sure.”
“We must.”
“Here, have a drink.”
The Dark Ideal poured another round.
“One hand can’t fend off ten. Don’t worry too much.”
He was serving his fourth term as the Dark Champion. Though unlikely, if they failed to achieve anything and the night market closed, it would severely impact the next election for the Dark Champion.
Just then, a man dashed past them, heading towards a familiar cart where they had bought sweets the day before.
Moments later, the lantern illuminating the cart went out.
The Dark Ideal grumbled irritably.
“That bastard! He shows no mercy, even to women.”
The cart had been used to deploy a group of women from the organization Seolhwa.
“If he were the type to fall for a honey trap, he wouldn’t have made it this far.”
The Dark Champion emptied his glass.
“Today won’t be an easy fight.”
＊ ＊ ＊
A massive man charged at me, shaking the ground with each step.
Whoever said big guys are slow was wrong. He seemed to convert his weight into speed.
Whoosh!
A fist the size of my head flew towards me. Even though I dodged, the force was so strong it stung my skin.
He was fast. Not only that, but he was incredibly tough. His body was as solid as if he could boast of being invincible, and he wore sturdy armor on his shoulders, wrists, thighs, and shins.
I aimed my Suramyeongwang Sword at his neck.
Swish!
Clang!
He blocked my sword with a metal guard on his wrist.
Swish! Swish!
I thrust again, but this time he deftly dodged. If he had blocked with his wrist again, my second strike would have pierced his hand. But he seemed to anticipate it and evaded.
The sword and fists clashed rapidly, each seeking the other’s life.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
He used only his fists, wielding his arms like two short swords. His attacks were swift and powerful, and his defense was highly effective. It was astonishing that he could achieve such prowess with just his fists.
I guessed that using Seonhak martial arts would make it easier to deal with him.
He was optimized to fight opponents with weapons. Most martial artists used weapons, while only one in ten practiced unarmed combat.
Thus, most martial arts had evolved to counter weapon-wielding opponents.
If I only had to face him, I might have prolonged the fight to experience his unique martial arts more.
But I couldn’t afford to.
I leaped back and withdrew my sword. The man looked surprised.
“Why change tactics?”
“I need to conserve my energy.”
He looked utterly baffled.
“Does that mean your martial arts are even greater than your swordsmanship?”
“See for yourself.”
I charged at him.
His fist flew towards me.
I spun, wrapping around the incoming punch.
Crack!
Sensing instinctively that resisting would break his arm, he spun with me.
Thud!
My palm struck his elbow, right where the armor left his skin exposed.
Crack!
Though his elbow was hit, his other fist aimed for my face.
Whoosh.
The punch missed, and once more, my palm struck his elbow.
Thud! Crack!
“Ugh!”
A short cry escaped his lips. To target his elbow while clinging to his massive arm? The unfamiliar fighting style left him bewildered.
His movements grew larger and more erratic.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
His massive fists sliced through the air, but he couldn’t hit the target clinging to him.
Thud! Crack.
On the third palm strike, his arm finally broke.
One of his arms hung limp.
“Aaaargh!”
He screamed and thrashed wildly.
He poured all his remaining energy into his punches. But the Seonhak martial arts techniques used the opponent’s strength against them, amplifying the impact.
Next, one of his legs broke, and his nose caved in.
In the final moment, my fist exploded against his face.
Thud!
The man flew through the air like a severed kite and tumbled to the ground. He could no longer move.
Ending him with a punch was my final respect for someone who had fought with only his fists from start to finish.
Even the Heavenly Demon showed interest in his martial arts.
[His martial arts are unusual. It didn’t seem like orthodox techniques.]
[It looked like a mix of orthodox and unorthodox styles.]
Orthodox martial arts schools wouldn’t wear such armor and always used their feet. But the man never used his feet.
It seemed his martial arts had evolved from a blend of unorthodox and orthodox styles.
[Using only fists in a fight doesn’t seem bad.]
The idea of brawling with just fists was quite appealing.
The Heavenly Demon agreed.
[Indeed.]
[It might be nice to have such a technique in Seonhak martial arts.]
[Create one.]
[You want me to create it?]
[Why not?]
True, having mastered Seonhak martial arts, I knew enough to create a new technique.
Just then, ten masters appeared ahead.
＊ ＊ ＊
The Dark Champion, sipping his drink, turned his gaze to another spot.
In the distance, another shop’s lights went out.
“It’s been a while.”
“Sir?”
The Dark Ideal, who had been staring at the table, looked up at the Dark Champion’s words.
“Since I felt this helpless.”
“It might be a good thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been stagnant for too long. This could be a chance to reorganize internally.”
“That would be good.”
The Dark Champion nodded slowly and asked,
“Where’s next?”
“The tavern where we’re drinking.”
The Dark Champion’s eyes sparkled with hope.
“If it’s them!”
＊ ＊ ＊
Some opponents allow you to conserve energy, others don’t.
Ten masters.
They were skilled enough to be introduced as the top ten masters of the era.
Their martial arts were diverse. Swordsmen, sabermen, spearmen, unarmed fighters, whip-wielders… a variety of weapons and martial arts.
The ten of them attacked me together. There was no time to conserve energy.
Who to kill first?
In this fight, it didn’t matter.
I gathered all my focus. It was time to become a blade myself.
As quickly as possible, ideally in one breath, before they could strategize.
I charged at the man standing in front.
Not hiding my intent to kill, I rushed him, and instead of confronting me, he chose to defend. If they hadn’t seen my skills since yesterday, they might not have known, but they were already aware.
To aid the man in front, a force flew at me from the left. I didn’t dodge; I took it head-on.
Bang.
I was flung to the right. The man on the right, thinking he had an opportunity, swung his sword.
At the last moment, my movements changed. My lethargic body suddenly came alive, twisting and swinging my sword.
Swish!
Slash!
The man on the right’s neck split open. From the start, I had allowed the attack to hit me to target him. Wearing the Black Dragon Armor made this strategy possible. Now, nine left!
Another force flew at me.
Thud!
I was swept away again. The person on that side leaped back, determined not to fall for it twice, but he wasn’t my target.
Swish.
A dagger embedded itself in the heart of the man on the right. He was my true target, and the unexpected attack left him unable to block it. Eight left!
As I slid across the ground, a barrage of force rained down on me. Thinking it was a trick, the attacks were rough and agitated.
Good, their agitation was exactly what I wanted.
In a fight, one must remain calm. Just as in life, the one who loses their cool first usually loses.
Whoosh.
A kick aimed for the back of my head. The opponent was a master of kicking techniques. Faster and more powerful than any weapon.
Normally, ducking would be the right move. The kicking master likely expected that, but my reaction was different.
I leaned back, dodging the attack, and punched the leg passing over my face.
Thud!
As the man staggered, losing balance, I spun towards him and launched myself.
Bam!
My knee struck his chin precisely. Using his flying body as a shield, I charged forward.
Using a comrade as a shield, I rushed, and the man in front leaped upward. Unfortunate for him, it was exactly what I anticipated.
Swish! Swish! Thud! Thud!
The Suramyeongwang Sword pierced his core repeatedly. The man used as a shield and the one stabbed in the abdomen both tumbled to the ground.
Now six left.
My assault was relentless, not even a single breath interrupted its flow. The moment my feet touched the ground, my sword sliced through the air with the speed of lightning.
Shhhhhh!
Whiiiiiish!
Two distinct sounds of the air being torn apart by my blade.
The two men standing far apart on either side exploded simultaneously.
The man on the left was cleaved into a cross shape, while a fountain of blood erupted from a swirling wound on the chest of the man on the right.
I had executed the first and second forms, “Instant Slash” and “True Strike,” in quick succession.
Now, only four enemies remained. In nearly a single breath, I had taken out more than half of them.
I could sense their unease. I gave them no time to think, no time to brace themselves for death. This moment, when fear spread among them, was the perfect time to strike.
Beyond the thrusting spear, I saw the desperate eyes of my opponent.
It was a swift and sharp attack, but not as formidable as the spear master I had faced earlier. Meanwhile, I was in better shape than I had been then.
Wham!
My first punch landed squarely on the man’s face. As he staggered back, I pursued him, delivering a flurry of punches.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
His solid body caved in like clay under my blows.
Sensing a lethal intent from behind, I twisted my body to evade.
Slash!
The man who had been taking my hits was torn apart by the force meant for me.
The attack intended to kill me had struck him instead.
But the one who unleashed that force need not feel guilty for killing his comrade. By the time my punches landed, the man was already dead.
Now, three left!
A whip cracked through the air, aiming for me. It slithered like a snake, but failed to bite.
I dodged the desperate attack of the man wielding a blade and slipped past him.
A red line appeared on his neck, and soon his head fell to the ground. Once the dam broke, it collapsed completely.
Now, two!
A curse erupted at that moment.
The man thrusting his sword at me with all his might had his lips tightly sealed, so it must have been the man with the whip behind him.
Two swords clashed in mid-air. They were similar in length, and so were the arms wielding them, but only one sword found its mark on the opponent’s face.
When I turned around, the whip that had danced like a living snake now lay limp on the ground.
The man looked at me with a face that seemed ready to hang himself with his own whip.
“Who are you?”
“In this situation, what good would knowing that do?”
I let my sword hang loosely as I slowly walked toward the last man.
One.
＊ ＊ ＊
The lights in the makeshift tavern went out as I drank.
The merchant, looking apologetic, bowed his head and handed me half of the silver coin.
The shadowy figure accepted the coin and rose from his seat.
“You should have postponed this.”
“I’m sorry. There’s another tavern open after the night market. You can drink there.”
“It’s unfortunate it came to this.”
The shadowy figure and his companion walked slowly. Now, several places in the night market were noticeably dark.
“It’s only the second day. Don’t worry too much.”
The shadowy figure paused at his companion’s reassurance.
“It’s not about how many shops close. It’s the speed at which they’re closing that’s the problem.”
“Ah!”
The shadowy figure surveyed the night market with eyes as deep as the darkness.
“Too fast. Far too fast.”