Descent of The Demon Master [EN]: Chapter 1887

Tick-tock.

Gong-ryeong lightly flexed and unflexed his fingers.

‘My senses are still a bit off.’

His martial arts were not the problem.

However, a martial artist’s martial arts only have meaning when they display their power in actual combat.

He had never been negligent in honing his martial arts, but it had already been several years since he had last used them against a person in actual combat.

No. If you add the word ‘properly,’ it wouldn’t be strange to say it’s been several decades, not just years.

“Hmm.”

This kind of sensation couldn’t be overcome through training.

Only actual combat.

It was the kind of thing that could only be recovered by experiencing real battles where life and death were at stake.

‘It’ll recover soon enough, but…’

Gong-ryeong smiled wryly and turned his head.

His eyes took in the sight of fragmented corpses and the blood flowing from them, forming a river.

The stench of blood emanating from the pile of corpses and the river of blood seemed as if it would paralyze his nose at any moment. Even someone with nerves of steel would not be able to withstand this sight without throwing up.

However, Gong-ryeong didn’t feel any particular emotion at the sight.

It might be a gruesome sight for those living in modern times, but in the era he lived in, such sights were not particularly special.

Especially in the places he frequented.

“…I can’t even guess how many I have to kill for my senses to fully return.”

Gong-ryeong’s eyes naturally narrowed.

He had thought that his senses would recover to some extent if he fought a few opponents, but after the battle, it felt like there was no significant progress.

One thing was certain.

The world had advanced, but the world of martial artists had regressed.

If it were the Central Plains of the past when he was at his peak, even facing an unknown third-rate sect would have resulted in more resistance than this.

Considering that these were not disciples of an unknown third-rate sect but warriors of the Hongwang Clan that dominated China, modern martial artists might be weaker than he thought.

‘It’s ironic.’

The lives of martial artists had improved beyond comparison to the past. Martial artists of the past also lived better lives than ordinary people based on their power, but the world of the past was one where there were no ways to enjoy that slightly better affluence.

However, the martial artists of today dominate the underworld and earn vast sums of money based on that dominance. In other words, even those who are incomparably weaker than before can live lives of affluence that are incomparable to the past.

‘It would be stranger if they weren’t rotten.’

He wasn’t particularly fixated on the idea of grit.

He was someone who didn’t really believe that anything could be achieved through effort and grit, whether in the past or now.

However, if time continued to pass like this, the martial artists of the modern era would become weaker, and the world of martial artists would eventually disappear. He couldn’t disagree with that fact.

“Should I have…”

Gong-ryeong muttered, looking at the mountain of corpses and sea of blood.

“…let one go?”

Gong-ryeong chuckled and flicked his finger. Then, his wires, which had been surrounding the entire building like a dome, were sucked into his sleeve with a sound like silk rubbing against each other.

‘It’s a good world.’

In the past, he had to use all sorts of secret techniques to create silver threads that were much heavier and weaker than this. The price of those silver threads was several tens of times more expensive than the same weight of gold.

But now?

‘It’s a world where mass-produced goods surpass the secret techniques of the past.’

The high-priced wires specially made for industrial use were ten times thinner than the silver threads he used in the past and could withstand tens of times the weight.

More important than the improved quality was that now, he could easily obtain such items just by ordering them.

There were still those who stuck to the old ways, saying that they were more comfortable with weapons made in the old way, but in Gong-ryeong’s view, those people were just fools who couldn’t escape the ghosts of the past.

Swish.

Gong-ryeong lightly pulled out a wire and then pushed it back in.

A master calligrapher doesn’t discriminate against brushes. And a master doesn’t discriminate against weapons?

That’s just a fantasy of those who have never become masters.

The more skilled a calligrapher is, the more they insist on the highest quality brush, and the more skilled a master is, the more they risk danger to obtain a famous sword. If you think about whose hands the swords that became famous were in, it’s not hard to understand.

Whoosh.

Gong-ryeong, with a satisfied look, extended a wire once and then slowly rose from his seat.

And then.

Bzzzz.

The cell phone in his pocket began to ring.

Bzzzz.

Gong-ryeong, feeling the vibration of the ringing cell phone, chuckled.

‘It really is a good world.’

In the past, they had to use all sorts of means to contact those who were on the battlefield. No matter how fast they used their light footwork and changed horses, there was a limit to their speed.

Losing because information wasn’t delivered in time wasn’t even considered a mistake.

But now, you can contact someone thousands of kilometers away just by pressing a few buttons while sitting in your seat.

‘I wonder how different history would have been if we had something like this in the past.’

One thing had to be acknowledged.

The world they dominated was already over. Perhaps no one would be able to reverse this trend.

Gong-ryeong put his hand in his pocket and took out his cell phone. Then, with a leisurely motion, he put the cell phone to his ear.

“What is it?”

[If you’re done cleaning up, you should withdraw.]

“I know.”

That was what they had agreed to in the first place.

“You don’t have to contact me one by one. I’m different from the other fools.”

[I know. I’m just contacting you to confirm.]

“Is this the Black King’s order?”

[It’s my own decision.]

Gong-ryeong chuckled softly.

“Alright. I’ll withdraw immediately.”

[However, the Black King seemed a bit displeased with the extent of the damage.]

“Hmm…”

Gong-ryeong looked around and then opened his mouth.

“Report to the Black King. If you show mercy carelessly and let those who harbor hope increase, the damage will be even greater. If you’re not going to touch them, then don’t, but if you’re going to touch them, you have to be thorough.”

[I will convey that as it is. Then.]

Gong-ryeong, hearing the sound of the call ending, put his cell phone back in his pocket.

“Hmm.”

Too much?

“Has the Black King become too accustomed to peace?”

He must have seen such sights countless times in the past. When that Black King was roaming the battlefield, this level of sight wouldn’t have been considered particularly gruesome.

“The one who dyed the world with blood has become quite sentimental.”

Gong-ryeong chuckled quietly.

But well…

It wasn’t something to blame him for.

If the world changes, people must change too.

It wasn’t just the Black King who had changed. The Twelve Evils living in this era had also changed in many ways from their past selves.

Change is inevitable.

The important thing is whether they are protecting what they must never forget even amidst the changes.

As long as they protect that, it doesn’t matter how much other parts change.

A low groan reached Gong-ryeong’s ear as he was about to move his feet.

“Hmm?”

Gong-ryeong turned his head.

‘A mistake…’

A decline in combat sense is bound to create such problems. In the past, his senses would never have missed a survivor.

Gong-ryeong moved his feet towards the direction of the sound.

Thud, thud, thud.

A groan like the sound of an ant seeped out from among the corpses piled up in pieces.

He lightly waved his hand, and the corpses split to the left and right, revealing a person clutching a severed leg.

“You’re lucky. Or is it unlucky?”

Gong-ryeong stared at the survivor.

In the past, he would have cut off their breath the moment he heard the sound, but now, strangely, he didn’t feel like doing that. It must be that he, as well as others, had changed.

“Look at me.”

The person, who had not yet fully grasped their hazy consciousness, raised their head and looked at Gong-ryeong as if they had been jolted awake by the voice.

“Hmm.”

The look in their eyes.

The eyes of the person clutching their leg were filled with resentment as they glared at Gong-ryeong.

“Good.”

There were many with those eyes in the past.

Those who were intoxicated by the pleasure of power and had lost sight of what a martial artist should be could not have such eyes. The moment they saw him, they would have been filled with fear and looked for a way to run. Or they would have shed tears and begged for forgiveness.

But this one was glaring at him.

Even though they had realized the absolute difference in power, they had not lost their will to resist.

‘I’ve gotten old too.’

In the past, he would have plucked those eyes out.

He was not someone who could be called a good person. If he had to divide himself into good and evil, he was someone whose identity leaned heavily towards evil.

But now, he didn’t dislike those eyes.

It seemed that the world had changed so that what was once so natural was no longer natural.

“Keep that look in your eyes, kid.”

Gong-ryeong raised his head and looked at the sky.

“Soon, a world will come where only those like you can survive. Then, that look in your eyes might have meaning again. In such a world, losing a leg wouldn’t be much of a problem.”

Gong-ryeong smiled lightly and then turned his body.

“Yo… you… bastard…”

“Heh heh.”

Gong-ryeong chuckled softly and waved his hand.

“When that time comes, you might even be grateful to me.”

After speaking, Gong-ryeong walked away without any regrets.

“Kkyeo…”

The one left alone glared at Gong-ryeong’s receding back with resentful eyes before clutching their leg.

As their consciousness returned, the pain became more and more severe. The pain from the severed leg was excruciating, but the sight that entered their eyes was even more horrific.

“This…”

Everyone was dead.

Not a single ant was left alive among those who had been guarding this place. The only one who survived was him.

“This…”

Seeing the sight of those who had been talking and eating with him just a while ago turned into gruesome corpses was a pain worse than hell.

How…

How could such a thing happen?

Even while enduring the fierce war with the incredibly powerful Changwang Clan, they had never suffered such absurd damage. They were incredibly strong and threatening, but at least they were beings that could be fought against.

But…

‘How are we supposed to fight against those kinds of guys?’

It felt like something in his heart was breaking.

His mind was filled with rage to the point where his head was turning white, but that rage could not be directed towards Gong-ryeong.

“Ugh…”

The person, clutching the floor, groaned and trembled.

Defeat.

Faced with the weight of an utterly perfect defeat, his head fell further and further down.

Thud!

A bleak wind swept past his head, which was buried in the blood-soaked floor.

That day.

Twenty-one branches of the Hongwang Clan were simultaneously annihilated, and the total number of survivors from all those branches did not even reach ten.