Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Survival of the Fittest (5)
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Cain had somehow managed to sever the Beast King's arm, but he himself was covered in large and small wounds all over his body.
It was only natural. Hot Wind wasn't a technique that could neutralize the enemy without sustaining a single injury.
Even that much would have meant enduring far longer torment if the Beast King hadn't died.
But compared to the Beast King, who had one shoulder completely lopped off, Cain's condition was far better. He let out a ragged breath.
'I took one arm. Normally, that kind of heavy wound would let you claim certain victory... but...'
Blood poured endlessly from the stump sliced clean at the shoulder. And yet, the Beast King steadied his stance once more.
Watching him, Cain smirked. He had expected as much.
The presence or absence of an arm could naturally confer a massive advantage in battle. It went without saying if weapons were involved.
Even barehanded, it affected weight distribution, balance, and more. Arms played a surprisingly huge role.
In short, with one arm severed, the Beast King shouldn't have been able to unleash his full power.
...That was supposed to be the case.
A fist plummeting diagonally smashed into his sword. Overpowered, Cain could only skid backward, his feet gouging the earth.
Even after lopping off the arm, Cain wasn't dominating the Beast King. It was enough to drive him insane.
His vision reeled from the colossal impact. It felt like an earthquake rattling his skull.
'What the fuck.'
There were no flashy moves like Hot Wind from before. But every motion was concise and measured, devilishly hard to block.
To put it in perspective... it had started out feeling like battling a rampaging beast, but now it was like facing a seasoned martial artist?
Boom! An explosive sound rang out as the advancing foot precisely crushed Cain's.
His movement ground to a halt, and a straight punch exploited the opening to pulverize his skull.
'This is fucking ridiculous.'
He had thought he glimpsed victory. He had finally grasped the Aura he craved so badly; just a little more effort was all it would take.
Or so he thought. Right when success seemed at hand, a sheer cliff dropped into his path.
Naturally, no one survived a shattered skull and splattered brains. Not even Cain.
He opened his eyes again, right on cue. Back to square one—the grueling battle anew.
The Beast King stared at his severed arm lying on the ground, then abruptly lifted his head.
"Impressive. I can't deny it."
"...Don't tell me you weren't even going all out until now."
"As if. That was my full strength, intact."
"Then where the hell is all this power coming from?"
"When full power falls short, you surpass your limits. That's how I've claimed victory in every fight so far."
What utter bullshit.
Cain reeled at the preposterous drivel about breaking limits. What made it even more absurd was that it was genuine.
He defended flawlessly against every assault and counterattacked in the same breath.
Because of that, Cain was forced to juggle offense and defense simultaneously. Fail, and a counter would smash his head in.
Of course, seamless offense-defense integration was par for the course in a desperate deathmatch, but pulling it off at once was brutally demanding.
Having to flawlessly defend the instant the foe defended against your attack? Way too harsh.
'At first, I had no clue why. But dying over and over, I'm starting to piece it together. The fragments of the technique the Beast King is demonstrating right now...'
For instance, suppose he swung his sword head-on. The Beast King would first lash out with a fist to batter the greatsword aside.
Normally, that would be it. But the Beast King's fist didn't stop.
Even slowed and robbed of some force from the deflection, it remained a killing blow. Offense and defense fused as one.
In plain terms, raw power married to exquisite skill. Cain's old-school brawling stood no chance.
'So in the end, technique has to be countered with technique... This is maddening.'
He held the upper hand in matchup, had even landed a crippling blow on an opening. And still, no domination.
The strategy of dying endlessly to drag it into a slugfest and scrape by? Useless here.
One option remained. Hone his own techniques relentlessly until they pierced the Beast King.
"In the end, that's all that's left, huh."
No more fuel to burn. Nothing but ashes. And even those, the enemy sought to grind underfoot.
He dies.
He tells himself it'll be different this time. It's not. He always dies.
But... even in that fleeting moment, he never stops walking.
Even if it's merely half a step... no, a fraction of that.
Because he believes that by persisting, he'll reach the light someday. And...
That belief did not betray him this time, either.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Carelessness?
No such thing.
If anything, he had summoned power to excess. If forced to name the defeat's root, it was failing to stay composed.
The rare bloodbath after so long had set his blood aflame. That must have been why it ended like this.
'Right, that's how it is. Battles are instant-death gambles on a single lapse. My blood hasn't boiled like this in ages.'
At least since embarking on the king's path, he hadn't tasted true mortal combat. It was inevitable.
Khan was the Beast King commanding the Seven Beast Kings. Should he fall while charging ahead, it was game over.
The fragile alliance held together solely by the Beast King's sheer might keeping it unified.
'Not bad at all. No—a feat worthy of acclaim. Rallying the scattered beastkin into a single league.'
Thanks to him, the middling predators had skyrocketed to one of the demon realm's four great powers.
But... paradoxically, that very success distanced Khan ever further from the fray.
Ordinary clashes ended at the Seven Beast Kings' tier, leaving him parked on his throne, absorbing victory dispatches.
'At first, I welcomed it. For my kin's sake... But only facing life's end could I admit the truth to myself.'
The surging blood chilled in an instant. Not from lost interest.
It was homage to the foe reawakening him to mortal combat's thrill after eons.
And defeat? Never crossed his mind. Who dives into battle planning to lose?
Khan stood here as warrior, not king. Unfurling the martial legacy forged across his years.
Boom!!
The spear-like straight punch halted against the pitch-black greatsword. But rapid-fire follow-ups ensued.
Each a contact-exploding finisher—yet his foe swatted them aside with absurd ease.
Watching Cain battle on, face unchanging, Khan bellowed a laugh.
As expected—his instincts rang true. At this life's twilight, a worthy rival after endless drought!
Not without flaws, mind. The swordplay was crude, sloppy in spots.
Yet he doggedly shadowed Khan's fists without fail.
Khan infused his blows with lethal intent to slay—still, the man lived.
"You're shadowing my fists admirably. A hair too slow, and you'd be dead."
"Would be."
"Knowing that, yet not fleeing. Courageous indeed!"
Khan admired him sincerely. No retreat—instead, creeping forward, sword flashing.
Fist met blade in showers of sparks. Here, Cain and Khan sought only mutual annihilation.
As the duel stretched, Khan sensed stagnant time inching forward.
Boom!!
Not only sidestepping the pinning footfall with ease—but reversing it on him.
No way... mimicking my moves? Possible? Crude execution, but it worked to a degree.
"Entertaining fellow. Wonder if you can mimic this."
He channeled his life's journey into his lone remaining arm. Merely clenching the fist...
Heaven and earth quaked. Cain hefted his greatsword against the ominous aura.
At last, Khan lunged. An instant boom—ground shattering under the strain.
A calamity worthy of the name, yet Cain tracked every motion to the end.
'My strikes can't finish Khan outright now. Then instead...!!'
Lopping the arm had succeeded only via a glaring opening.
To snuff the Beast King for good, another such lapse was key.
Cain, who had gleaned this through ceaseless deaths, likewise marshaled his utmost reserves.
The zenith of the martial path Khan had forged.
Its fragments at last emerged.