Descent of The Demon Master [EN]: Chapter 699

What words could possibly describe Li Xiaowei’s current state of mind?

Overwhelming joy?

A sense of fulfillment for the reward of a long wait?

Generally, one might think it would be a form of joy, but the emotions Li Xiaowei was actually feeling were far from joy.

It was strange.

The conditions for feeling joy were more than sufficient.

First, after decades of waiting, he had witnessed the Demon Lord’s descent with his own eyes.

The young demons did not know.

How thorny the path they had walked was.

The hatred of the righteous sects, who dominated the martial world, towards demons was beyond imagination. Now, that emotion had dulled to some extent. Just half a century ago, they would not hesitate to torture and tear apart any demons they encountered.

As modern civilization developed, martial artists had to give up some of their ground, and the demons were able to survive thanks to that.

If the barbaric era had lasted just another half-century, the demons would have been relegated to the history books.

They had endured that time of hardship and finally arrived here. And now, he was witnessing the Demon Lord’s descent with his own eyes.

Wasn’t that enough?

It was enough to find meaning in a life of enduring and persevering.

Moreover, the Demon Lord was a being far beyond his expectations.

Even if he only served as a repository of demonic arts, there would be nothing more to wish for. Yet, the Demon Lord had shown his anger at their plight. Therefore, there should be no more regrets.

But….

Strangely, a sense of unease was coloring Li Xiaowei’s heart.

Not just a simple unease.

How old was he? He had felt unease countless times in his life.

However, the unease that filled his heart now was on a different level from the fragments of emotions he had felt before. A primal emotion, hidden deep within him, was crawling like a bug, up his legs, his waist, and into his head.

Yes.

He knew the cause.

Demonic energy.

The moment he saw the demonic energy flowing, blazing from Kang Jin-ho’s body, his heart began to be covered with an unease he could not control.

It was like sticky tar.

For those who practiced demonic arts, demonic energy was familiar. Demonic energy was the source of their strength, and it was also a cursed existence that drove them mad.

No matter how they thought about or accepted it, demonic energy was like an inseparable part of a demon’s body.

But this was different.

This was not the demonic energy he knew.

It was something more ominous, more evil, and more destructive.

It was viscous.

The demonic energy that flowed out was incredibly viscous, like tar. Compared to their own demonic energy, which at best created a darkness like black smoke, this was something that could be called the source of demonic energy.

‘Dregs.’

Li Xiaowei could now understand Elder Zhang Min’s words.

The words that they were just living by learning the dregs of demonic arts.

Li Xiaowei could not understand those words. To be precise, he understood them in his head, but he could not accept them in his heart.

Wasn’t it natural?

If you tried to explain the universe, not just the sky, to an earthworm living in the ground, could it understand?

It was impossible.

From the time Li Xiaowei began to learn martial arts, demonic arts were considered inferior martial arts. The masters repeatedly said that demonic arts had fallen to this point because they had lost their true meaning, but for Li Xiaowei, who had never seen the true form of demonic arts, those words were just empty cries.

The only one who had shown him even a fragment of true demonic arts was Zhang Min.

Elder Zhang Min.

He was a special figure in the Demonic Cult. [Demonic Cult: A group that practices demonic arts.]

He had lived longer than anyone else in the Demonic Cult. And he was stronger than anyone else in the Demonic Cult. Li Xiaowei’s master was just a child in front of Zhang Min.

One day, Li Xiaowei asked Zhang Min.

Why didn’t Zhang Min lead the Demonic Cult? Why did he ignore the suffering demons when he was so strong?

Instead of being holed up in a cave waiting for the Demon Lord’s descent, why couldn’t Zhang Min become the Demon Lord?

Upon hearing those words, Zhang Min replied with a pitiful smile.

“It is not me. It is not me. The Demon Lord is not just referring to a strong person. The Demon Lord is salvation, the Demon Lord is hope. I can be a candle that briefly illuminates the darkness, but I cannot be the sun for the demons. Wait. Endure. If you endure and endure, one day, that person will come. When that time comes, my role will be over.”

Those were incomprehensible words at the time.

Only later could he understand Zhang Min’s position. His martial arts were not orthodox. He was strong because those who protected the Demon Lord had passed down their power to him through generations. However, due to the limitations of his martial arts, he could not pass on demonic arts to other demons.

Even if he took the lead, if he could not make the entire Demonic Cult stronger, he would eventually reach a limit. And if he were to die in the process, the martial world, having experienced the backlash of the demons, would oppress them even more harshly.

That was why he could not fight even though he had the power.

Who could possibly guess Zhang Min’s feelings?

“Wait, wait. What you are seeing through me now is not hope. It is just an illusion. You will know. The moment that person appears before you, the moment that person, who places all demons beneath his feet, reveals his form again in this world, you will see the true form of the demon that you denied and cursed.”

Now he could understand what those words meant.

The source.

Yes, that was literally the source.

Compared to that demonic energy, the demonic arts they had learned could rightly be called dregs. It was so right.

Reverence.

Without anyone telling him to, Li Xiaowei flattened his body to the ground.

He revered and revered the Demon Lord who had descended into the world.

And one more thing.

Li Xiaowei grabbed his leg.

When he took his hand off, his weight shifted to his head, but even so, his hand could not help but remain on his thigh, not the ground.

He was trembling.

He was shaking.

The Demon Lord.

The emotion that came to him, who had waited and waited for their savior, was not joy, nor happiness… it was just fear.

Fear that surged up from the depths of his soul.

It was as if a sinful human had seen a judge descending from the heavens, as if he had witnessed an irresistible rage, his whole body trembled.

Li Xiaowei desperately turned his head back.

It was the same.

He was not the only one feeling this way. From the moment Kang Jin-ho revealed his anger, the demons were all lying on the ground, trembling, as if they had encountered a Yama [Yama: A deity of death and justice in some Eastern religions].

It was as if they had planned it in advance.

‘He is the Demon Lord.’

He could understand why Zhang Min had been so confident that the mere appearance of the Demon Lord would be enough to unite all the scattered demons.

This domination was irresistible.

If they were demons, if they were demons who had not yet had everything taken from them by the demon, if they were demons who had even a little bit of reason, no one would be able to refuse the Demon Lord’s domination.

Then, the Demon Lord slowly opened his mouth.

“Bator.”

Thud!

Bator knelt on one knee on the spot. There was no trace of the Bator who usually treated Kang Jin-ho playfully. Only a loyal servant of the Demon Lord, with a hardened face, existed.

“Command me, my Lord.”

“Sweep them away.”

“Yes!”

Kang Jin-ho added.

“Let them know. What is the price for uttering words that should not be spoken.”

“Understood!”

Bator did not say another word.

He simply rushed forward with a speed that was unbelievable for his massive body.

The sight of Bator’s body, which was already imposing even when standing still, rushing forward was shocking in itself. It was like a huge bear baring its teeth and charging.

Bator, who had rushed forward, threw a straight punch at the martial artist in front of him.

Shattering.

The moment a human body collided with a human body, something unbelievable happened. The body made of bones and flesh was literally separated into bones and flesh, and the fragments of the body that had not yet been crushed were flung backward like bullets.

“Aaaah!”

“Aack!”

Screams erupted from everywhere at the pain of something piercing through their bodies.

Of course, that was not the end.

Kwaaaang!

Bator kicked the car blocking his path. A vehicle weighing over a ton was flung away like a toy.

And that car instantly swept away the martial artists.

War God.

Bator roared in a manner befitting that title. As if the owner’s anger had been transmitted, Bator, who had not a shred of emotion, was sweeping away the martial artists like a mother bear who had lost her cubs.

It was a shocking sight.

Anyone who saw that would instinctively feel that something was going wrong.

However, Morikawa Atsushi could not move.

He knew.

If he did not give some kind of command now, they would be swept away in an instant. War was always like that. Annihilation on the battlefield meant the loss of 30% of the total force.

Annihilation was not when everyone died.

One-third.

If one out of three people died, humans would be engulfed in fear. Even a battle that they could naturally win if they mobilized all their forces would be lost.

If they lost their composure and panicked, chaos would quickly ensue, and their mentality would collapse. Then, they would not be able to think of anything other than the thought of running away.

That was the situation now.

The person needed at times like this was a commander, and Morikawa Atsushi had come here in the role of a commander.

But….

He could not turn his eyes away.

He could not open his mouth.

All he could do was to mobilize every single cell in his body to be wary of the monster in front of him.

Step, step.

The monster approached slowly, with a leisurely pace that was never fast.

Monster.

Yes, that was a monster.

Compared to that crazy monster, Bator was rather human. A thick, tar-like demonic energy that slowly flowed out enveloped his whole body. Red eyes, like blood, seeped out in streaks from somewhere filled with darkness.

Demon.

Yes, that was the form of a demon.

It was the very image of evil that he had only imagined, taking on a human form and descending into this world.

The tip of the Japanese sword he was holding was not finding its place.

The tip of the sword was the mind.

How many times had he heard the saying that the beginning of martial arts was maintaining the tip of the sword without wavering? But now, his sword was wandering aimlessly, unable to find its place.

The monster, Kang Jin-ho, who had been slowly approaching him, opened his mouth. No, the darkness that covered somewhere he thought was his mouth was subtly writhing.

“Now, answer me.”

That was a laugh.

A mocking sneer.

For a martial artist, a sneer was the most unbearable thing. But Morikawa Atsushi could not even get angry.

From the start, this could not be called a fight between martial artists. It was far beyond the normal realm.

The demon laughed.

Then the demon spoke, in a voice like scraping metal.

“Who is the trash?”

The demon slowly reached out his hand.