Descent of The Demon Master [EN]: Chapter 749

‘This crazy bastard!’

What is fist energy?

In the martial world, martial arts begin with the strengthening of weapons or the body through internal energy. When that energy becomes overflowing, it is released externally. The energy released from a sword becomes sword energy, and the energy released from a fist becomes fist energy. [Fist energy is the external manifestation of a martial artist’s internal power, released through their fists.]

And when that released energy is condensed and further condensed to gain explosive power, it is finally called ‘steel’ [Steel energy is a highly concentrated form of internal energy, capable of immense destructive force].

Steel energy created by condensing internal force can turn a human body into dust in an instant. No matter how high a martial artist’s level, they would never think of taking steel energy with their bare body.

Because the damage they would receive is greater than the benefit they would gain.

This was common sense.

But this crazy bastard was now defying that common sense.

Kwaaaang!

The fist energy exploded on Kang Jin-ho’s shoulder. Flesh flew off, and bone was exposed.

Literally, Kang Jin-ho had given his flesh to the Hong King.

Then he had to take the bone.

Swish!

Kang Jin-ho’s Blue Dew sliced a long gash from the Hong King’s right side to his left chest.

A precise strike.

If it had landed as intended, it would have been a fatal blow.

However, even Kang Jin-ho’s sword, imbued with demonic energy, could not completely cut through the Hong King’s body.

It wasn’t that his body itself was strong like Bator’s. But the Hong King’s muscles, filled with internal force, pushed back Kang Jin-ho’s sword with even greater intensity than Bator’s body.

A flesh wound.

The Red Dew did not pierce the abdominal wall. But that didn’t mean the wound was insignificant.

Give flesh and take flesh. Compared to what he gave, what he gained was too little. But that was fine.

Kang Jin-ho stepped on the Hong King’s knee and leaped, using his own knee to strike the Hong King’s chin.

“Kuh!”

The Hong King leaned back violently.

However, the knee, flying with fierce momentum, grazed his chin, tearing a long gash in the Hong King’s skin.

“You, you bastard!”

The Hong King retreated.

The Hong King, who had never retreated from an enemy, retreated for the first time. Without even realizing it himself.

The Hong King’s eyes were shaking.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

Kang Jin-ho kicked off the air and charged at the Hong King.

The Hong King is strong.

That is his only weakness.

He is too strong. Such martial prowess cannot be achieved through effort alone. He must have been born strong, and he must have become even stronger through his own efforts.

And surely, even in the process of becoming stronger, there would have been few martial artists who could have fought him to the death. He was too strong to learn the ferocity of battle in a fierce fight where life and death were at stake.

If he had been born in the Central Plains of the past, he would have grown stronger by accumulating experience in the hellish martial world. But this world did not give him that opportunity. [The Central Plains is a region in China often depicted as the heart of martial arts, where intense battles and rivalries are common.]

Kang Jin-ho charged at the Hong King.

If given distance, no one in the world could defeat the Hong King. Fighting the Hong King was like charging at a tank with a rifle. His overwhelmingly powerful strike required that much distance.

It was a problem he wouldn’t have had to worry about when fighting others. Because everyone would have been beaten to a pulp before they could get close to him.

So he couldn’t know his own weaknesses. Even if he did know, it wouldn’t matter. A weakness that cannot be exploited is not a weakness, and a weakness that can be offset by strengths is not a weakness. Because perfection does not exist.

But now, the Hong King had encountered a sharp dagger for the first time, piercing his weakness.

How long had he fought?

How much time had he spent dying and living?

Even a veteran of a hundred battles would not discuss combat in front of Kang Jin-ho. Kang Jin-ho was a man whose entire life had been a struggle for survival.

A stronger opponent than himself?

He had killed countless of them.

Because no strong person can be strong from the beginning. He was called the Red Demon because his blood never dried. When there were no more strong people to kill, he was finally called the Red Sky.

Kang Jin-ho, who had soared into the air, plunged the Red Dew and Blue Dew into the Hong King’s shoulders.

No matter how strong one is, there is a process that must be followed.

The time it takes to draw up the energy gathered in the dantian [The dantian is a key energy center in the body, often located in the abdomen, where martial artists cultivate their internal power.] and release it with both hands. Just as humans must inhale and exhale to breathe, martial artists draw up, gather, and release their energy.

He wouldn’t give him that opening.

No matter how much internal energy is accumulated in the dantian, internal energy that cannot be used is the same as non-existent.

Kang Jin-ho knew that very well.

Kooong!

Steel energy that could pierce steel grazed his side.

The Hong King is the Hong King.

Even the ungathered steel energy released in a moment of chaos split the sea and caused an explosion.

But no matter how strong the energy is, it is useless if it doesn’t hit.

That’s common sense.

In that sense, the Hong King was nothing short of a monster who defied common sense.

It didn’t even hit. It just grazed him. But the pressure caused the flesh on his side to burst and his ribs to crack. Kang Jin-ho’s trained body could not withstand even the pressure of the energy passing by.

But Kang Jin-ho laughed.

Attack is the best defense. But that’s only true when the attack lands properly. There’s no need to explain which is more advantageous for defense: a stance with both hands drawn back or a stance with one hand extended forward.

Before the Hong King’s extended right hand could be retracted, Kang Jin-ho plunged towards his chest. Then, he pulled the Blue Dew and Red Dew and rotated his body.

“Kuh-euh!”

Kang Jin-ho’s body spun like a top. The Red Dew and Blue Dew that wrapped around Kang Jin-ho’s body lacerated the Hong King’s body like blades protruding from a top.

Kakakakang!

The Hong King, cut by the swords several times, retreated. But Kang Jin-ho did not give the Hong King a chance to retreat. Kang Jin-ho rotated and charged even faster than the Hong King retreated.

“You damn bastard!”

The first curse word burst from the Hong King’s mouth.

What is this?

What the hell is this?

This isn’t martial arts. It was a dogfight. It was as if someone who had been sharing poetry like a noble scholar suddenly grabbed his collar and dragged him into the mud.

The Hong King had never experienced such a mud fight, and he had never even imagined that he would have to fight such a fight.

It wasn’t that he lacked preparation. No one in the world would try to fight him like this. He was a fist master. Those who use fists are strong in close combat. Those who use weapons try to keep their distance from fist masters.

The Hong King knew that very well. So there was no need to prepare for close combat.

But Kang Jin-ho was different.

His close combat was completely different from what the Hong King thought of as close combat. For martial artists, this distance is a distance where a single mistake can cause their head to explode. No one wants to put their head within the opponent’s reach.

For martial artists, this distance is different from the distance of ordinary people.

It’s like boxing, but clinching and then landing body blows continuously from a distance of less than 10cm. Even if you try to shake them off, they won’t fall off, and there’s no referee to stop the clinch.

So it was inevitable that he would boil with anger.

The Hong King shouted and threw a punch. But Kang Jin-ho did not allow it.

The Hong King’s fist rising from the left.

But before the Hong King could even extend his arm, Kang Jin-ho’s leg kicked the inside of the Hong King’s elbow with a powerful kick.

No matter how different the force is, a fist that has been kicked in the elbow cannot go in its intended direction.

The Hong King’s fist futilely cut through the air.

Kang Jin-ho used the momentum of kicking the Hong King’s arm to lift his body and kick the Hong King’s head.

Kang Jin-ho’s leg shadows multiplied and covered the Hong King’s head.

“Kuh!”

The Hong King retreated. He retreated mindlessly.

In his life, had he ever been kicked in the head?

Everything was unprecedented.

Kang Jin-ho was like a foreign object stuck in a giant machine, breaking down the sophisticated weapon that was the Hong King.

Attacks he had never experienced, a distance he had never fought at, and a vicious enemy he had never seen before.

All of that combined was driving the Hong King into a corner.

And more than anything…

“You demonic bastard!”

The Hong King was furious.

He was retreating. He was being swept away by that ridiculous attack. With every step back, his anger doubled. Blood rushed to his head, and he couldn’t make normal judgments.

His vision went white, and his whole body stiffened.

Excitement and hatred are different emotions.

Hatred inspires zeal, but anger stiffens the body. The enraged Hong King could not take care of himself. And Kang Jin-ho, with cold eyes, observed the Hong King’s changes and slowly drove him like a hunter driving his prey.

Thin ice?

On a knife’s edge?

It wasn’t a situation that could be described with such appropriate metaphors.

One wrong move and his head would fly off. One slight mistake and a hole would appear in his body as if a cannonball had passed through it.

Life and death were decided in a single blow.

In that precarious crossroads of life and death, Kang Jin-ho was experiencing a terrible pleasure.

Adrenaline was pumping through his head like a drug. It was a pleasure that seemed to make his whole body go limp.

‘This is it.’

Soft.

They’re all soft.

For Kang Jin-ho, who lived in a world made of straw, the Hong King was the first perfect being he had ever encountered.

He didn’t die when he threw a punch, and he didn’t fall when he was cut by a sword.

A magnificent being who could withstand everything he had, no matter how much he threw at him.

What should he call him?

It didn’t matter.

Anything was fine.

Kang Jin-ho even forgot that he was fighting. He forgot that he was on the verge of death. He forgot what he had to do.

He dodged what was coming and stabbed the empty spaces.

He gave up his torn flesh and tore the opponent’s flesh.

Bloody.

Yes, bloody.

Kang Jin-ho’s sword had cut the Hong King’s flesh, but the Hong King’s fist was breaking Kang Jin-ho’s body. Kang Jin-ho had tactically gained a perfect advantage. But strategically, he could not win.

The damage they received from the same blow was different. No matter how cleverly a person with a thousand soldiers attacks and uses ingenious strategies, they cannot defeat a million soldiers.

Even if he killed him, he wouldn’t decrease.

That was the Hong King’s body. No matter how much he cut, tore, stabbed, and bit, it was all just flesh wounds. But the Hong King was steadily inflicting damage on Kang Jin-ho.

But Kang Jin-ho was smiling cruelly.

So what?

It was at that moment.

The Hong King raised his right hand and grabbed the Red Dew that was flying towards him.

Kwaddeudeuk!

The Red Dew, filled with demonic energy, pierced the Hong King’s hand. It forcibly tore through the flesh and pierced the bone. Finally, the Red Dew completely pierced the Hong King’s hand. But in return, the Red Dew stopped for the first time.

“Kang Jin-hooooooooo!”

The Hong King’s left hand struck Kang Jin-ho’s chest.

Blinding steel energy.

Fist energy, like the dawn of the morning, exploded in Kang Jin-ho’s chest. Kang Jin-ho’s body flew like a kite with a broken string and plunged into the sea.