Descent of The Demon Master [EN]: Chapter 1998

“They’ve arrived.”

Hongwang grinned, and Liu Yang’s face hardened.

“There’s still no word…”

“No. They’re here.”

Hongwang’s voice was full of certainty.

“Don’t you feel it? The very air has changed.”

Liu Yang felt nothing. The other Twelve Flying Blades also looked like they hadn’t sensed anything in particular.

But there was no doubt.

If Hongwang said so, then it was the truth.

The Twelve Flying Blades’ expressions changed, and they rose from their seats in unison.

Liu Yang’s face also paled slightly. He had lived facing the Black King and the Twelve Flying Blades. Nothing much could make him nervous. But the figures who had entered this base were enough to make even Liu Yang tense.

“They won’t be easy opponents.”

“I know.”

“Even now…”

“Hmm?”

The Black King looked at Liu Yang with a bored expression.

“Don’t spoil the fun, Liu Yang.”

“It’s a fun festival. Just enjoy it.”

Liu Yang sighed.

“I don’t understand. Is it really necessary to take such a risk at the very end…? No, I’m not saying there’s a chance you might lose, Black King. But still…”

“You’re being boring.”

The Black King gestured with his chin towards the Twelve Flying Blades.

“Do you know why those guys don’t say such things?”

Hongwang chuckled.

“Because they’re dull.”

“…Huh?”

The Black King slowly rose to his feet.

“Everyone might not say it, but they must have known. That achieving our goal like this would be too bland and boring.”

Baek Yeon-hong chuckled and nodded.

“That’s not wrong.”

“All we’ve done is hole up here and wait, haven’t we?”

“That’s right.”

Hongwang nodded.

“The climax needs a suitable… no, a powerful enemy. An enemy to fight with everything on the line. That’s the way of a martial artist.”

Liu Yang looked at the Black King with an expression of utter incomprehension.

“Why do you think I accepted the cult leader’s proposal? Because I didn’t want to admit the contradiction in my words? Because I couldn’t stand being humiliated by such wordplay? Not at all.”

The Black King twisted his lips.

“You can ignore everything else, but one thing the cult leader said is right.

To bet everything on the martial world, I have to prove that I am worthy. To the martial artists, not anyone else.”

“That’s right.”

“Definitely.”

The Twelve Flying Blades also nodded as if agreeing with his words.

It was the nature of a martial artist.

Those gathered here were all people who had agreed with the Black King’s high ideals. They were people who would risk their lives for him.

But not a single one of them would have followed that ideal if the one who had spoken those words was not the Black King.

The Black King’s ideals were certainly high.

But it was valuable because the Black King had said it. The ideals of someone who was not strong had no meaning, no matter how right they were. That was the law of the martial artist.

If you wanted to assert what was right, you had to prove that you were strong.

A barbaric law that could not be applied to any other world. But in the martial world, that was the truth and the law.

“The strong are right.”

“That’s right.”

Words that completely denied the value of reason that humanity had built up through its development.

Liu Yang was strongly tempted to object, but even he had no choice but to nod in the end.

Whether those words were right or wrong was not important. What was important was that other martial artists who were not here would also implicitly consider those words to be right.

They could not stand being represented by someone who was not strong.

What had drawn the martial artists outside was not the Black King’s will. It was not the Black King’s ideals or his vision.

It was his reputation and his strength.

Murtial artists were beings who could not help but be drawn to strength, beings who would do anything to become stronger.

That was why they respected and revered the strong.

Because they understood what hardships they had overcome to obtain that simple, obvious word, ‘strength’. The strength of a martial artist could not be achieved through physical strength or talent alone.

Especially those who entered the realm of the superhuman needed something more.

If they did not respect such people, who would they respect?

This was not simply a debate about who was better at fighting. It was a war to determine who was stronger and greater as a human being.

“There’s nothing more futile than saying, ‘I’m right, so follow me.’ At least, not in this world.”

The Black King twisted the corner of his mouth.

“So let’s go prove it, to the strongest enemy. That we are right, that we are stronger.”

That was enough.

A smile appeared on the faces of the Twelve Flying Blades. The more powerful the enemy they faced, the more motivated they became. The ones coming here were definitely the strongest enemies they could meet in this era.

“I have one question.”

“Speak.”

“Is cutting in line allowed?”

The Black King chuckled.

“If it were before, I would have said no way. But…”

The Black King’s sharp gaze turned towards the door.

“It seems they have a different idea this time. If you can, go ahead.”

“Understood.”

The door opened.

Hongwang, and the Twelve Flying Blades.

Perhaps the strongest small force that had ever existed, and would ever exist.

They moved.

Thud, thud.

The sound of their footsteps echoed down the long corridor.

‘It’s eerie.’

A long corridor leading underground.

Although it was a hidden base, until recently, this place would have been bustling with the sounds of many people moving around. Operating and managing nuclear missiles required a lot of manpower.

But now, this place was filled with a stillness as if it were a dead world. Only the black, dried blood on the walls proved what had happened here.

“Is there no one inside?”

At Bator’s words, Wiggins gave a wry smile.

“They would have left the minimum number of people to manage the missiles. If it’s the Black King’s style, they’re likely to be people who were already in his pocket.”

“Hmm.”

“The rest would only be a hindrance.”

The Master scratched his chin as if amused.

“Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve been inside a nuclear missile base. But… it feels strangely familiar? Don’t you think so, Wiggins?”

“Yes. It’s like the Round Table.”

The fact that it was a huge underground facility, and that the interior was connected by long corridors, evoked a familiar nostalgia.

“Dark, quiet, and damp…”

“Damn it, it feels like a ghost will appear.”

Bang Jin-hoon shuddered.

“Is this thing going to collapse?”

“It’s unlikely to happen.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Where do you think this is? It’s a nuclear missile base. In other words, it’s also a nuclear bunker. And it’s probably not an ordinary nuclear facility.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Because Hongwang chose this place. I don’t think he would have chosen a place that would collapse from a few bombs. Unless he wanted to die here.”

“Your tone is a bit more aggressive than usual…”

“I guess the situation is making my blood boil.”

“…Calm down.”

Bang Jin-hoon shook his head, looking at Wiggins, who was twisting his lips.

“Even if parts of it collapse, it won’t cave in. In other words… we can fight here without worry. It’s the perfect battlefield for the final battle.”

“That doesn’t sound like good news…”

Kang Jin-ho took out a cigarette and walked forward.

Click.

Kang Jin-ho lit the cigarette and looked down the corridor with one eye half-closed.

The Black King was probably at the end of this corridor. Maybe he was already coming to meet them.

“Bator.”

At the sound of his name, Bator turned his head slightly to look at Kang Jin-ho.

“How do you feel?”

“…Me?”

“Yes.”

Bator twisted his lips.

“It’s the best, Master.”

“For those who babble about the path of the sword, learning martial arts itself would have meaning. Because for them, martial arts are a means to reach a new realm.”

“That’s right.”

“But not for me. For me, only fighting the strong has meaning. Martial arts without an opponent to fight are meaningless.”

Bator clenched his fist.

“And this place is overflowing with such enemies. Could there be anything more joyful?”

At those words, the Master chuckled softly.

“That’s not wrong.”

“I feel the same way, Lord. After living for so long as the head of the Round Table, I thought my heart as a warrior had already died, but coming here makes me feel like my younger self is coming back to life. If I feel like this, dying in battle doesn’t seem so bad.”

Bang Jin-hoon scratched his head.

“No, what’s with you guys? Did you get possessed by ghosts who couldn’t fight and died? I’m so nervous I’m going to die!”

“Tsk tsk, and you call yourself a martial artist.”

“No, Elder! People are all different!”

Jang Min looked at Bang Jin-hoon with a pathetic look, then turned his gaze to Kang Jin-ho.

“Demon Lord, I will open the way.”

Jang Min’s voice was also different from usual.

His voice was filled with an excitement that had been hard to find before.

‘It always ends up like this.’

Murtial artists were those who pursued victory. They were those who risked everything to prove that they were stronger.

That was why they spent their entire lives searching for worthy opponents.

An opponent who could prove their own strength, an opponent they could pour everything into.

Proof of themselves, and a weight beyond that.

There was no way they wouldn’t be excited now, going to a match where they would carry all of that and bet everything.

They were not crushed by the weight of carrying the fate of the world, but excited by the fact that they could meet an enemy and fight.

‘In the end, they’re all trash.’

That was why martial artists were useless people.

But the biggest problem was…

‘I’m the biggest piece of trash among them.’

From the moment he entered this place, his heart had started to beat.

He was here.

The one who would end his long journey.

The one who had started everything and the one who would end everything.

“I have one request.”

“Whether you win or lose…”

Kang Jin-ho twisted his lips.

“Don’t leave any regrets.”

The faces of everyone who heard those words were filled with determination.

At the same time…

Thud, thud, thud.

Kang Jin-ho’s footsteps began to quicken.

Accordingly, everyone’s speed gradually increased.

They could feel it.

The energies that were gradually approaching them from the other side of this corridor.

Kang Jin-ho bared his white teeth.

‘Cheongma!’ [A mythical horse known for its speed and power]

The moment his body recognized that he had entered the battlefield, his body reacted first.

His blood heated up, and every cell in his body awakened.

Kang Jin-ho spat out the cigarette in his mouth and ran down the corridor at a fast speed.

“There!”

The moment he discovered the trace of the person waiting for them on the other side, Kang Jin-ho’s fangs were revealed.

The fangs that would pierce the enemy’s neck and drink their blood.