Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: 17. Countdown (5)
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"...This actually works?"
Kang San's face was etched with surprise.
Before falling into qi deviation and being consumed by it, Kang San had stats around the average for a D-Rank hunter.
Yet in just one day of slaughtering countless werewolves, every stat had jumped by 1 to 20 points—an insane leap forward. It was growth on the level of a cheat code. Regular hunters poured endless effort and resources into raising a single stat by 1, but Kang San had skipped all that in one go. It was as if he were receiving all the recompense at once for the years he'd wasted stuck at F-Rank.
'C-Rank minimum is 100 across the board. If I leverage the Blood Demon Art's penalties right, maybe I can skyrocket even faster.'
One year from now.
The calamity he had to stop was an S-Rank outbreak.
It was an absurd trial demanding absurd growth, so the results right in front of him tempted Kang San sorely. And conveniently, he was isolated in this space alone. No risk of harming innocents. If there was ever a time to walk the tightrope and seize the opportunity handed to him, this was it.
But.
'No. Escaping qi deviation this time was pure luck. The fact that I didn't snap out of it while my stats shot up this high means it's not something to celebrate. If I plunge into that abyss beyond consciousness and never come back, my real self will turn into a monster like the Blood Demon.'
The cycle that had repeated before.
Back then, Kang San had been desperate.
He ignored his own wounds, his eyes fixed only on slaying the monster in front of him to save his parents.
Even if his injuries worsened to the point he couldn't fight anymore, if his mind was lost somewhere in the past, he wouldn't realize he was dying and would keep battling on. A situation where death could come at any moment. It was a double-edged sword. No—a power he had to reject outright. For Kang San, the priority now was gauging the safe limits of the Blood Demon Art. The explosive stat gains? Best to chalk them up to a one-time stroke of luck.
No more.
He wouldn't test qi deviation again.
He accepted that rummaging through memories that weren't his own was beyond what he could handle.
His thoughts ended there.
Beyond the darkness.
Krrrrowl.
"Tired..."
The thick beastly stench hit him like a wave, and Kang San hauled himself wearily to his feet.
Time flew by.
Exactly 30 days out of 900.
A full month had passed.
The steep stat gains from the early days had hit a plateau at some point.
Breaking past 100.
That was the turning point.
The moment he finally surpassed the C-Rank minimum, no matter how many werewolves he cut down, no voice announced the activation of Burning Time. In hindsight, it made perfect sense. Burning Time's base condition included the enemy's strength, so back when Kang San was D-Rank, C-Rank werewolves qualified.
But now?
They were equals.
Azmun didn't count this as a trial anymore. Slaughter thirty or more, and no rewards came.
'A plateau already? That's not good.'
870 days left.
Plenty of time.
But he couldn't have started with monsters tougher than werewolves.
Kang San had faced death countless times even at the beginning. Picking anything stronger would've killed him before he reached this point. And from the repeated battles, he'd learned something key: the Blood Demon Art's limits hinged roughly on his Mental Power stat. At 55 now, that was the benchmark for when it hit its peak.
Good insight.
It meant he could safely leverage the Blood Demon Art's advantages against up to fifty or so.
Dangerous as it was, moments like facing the Werewolf Lord demanded it. That extreme bodily state, the chilling sensation—it was his trump card for escaping crises. Of course, without 100% certainty, he couldn't abuse it.
Kruk.
Krrrrowl.
Familiar sounds echoed from afar.
He calmly drew his sword.
Strictly speaking, matching stats should make handling packs of werewolves impossible, but Kang San had strength beyond mere numbers. The Guardian's Will offset their superiority in numbers, the Blood Demon Art boosted his attack power with each kill, and finally...
Shhh...
Killing intent coiled thick in the air.
Through battles repeating over a dozen times a day, Kang San was mastering how to wield it.
Whoosh.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.
Killing intent lashed out.
Kang San unleashed hyper-sensation, slipping into the space it assaulted, and without hesitation cleaved the head off the lead werewolf charging him. Blood sprayed like a fountain. The voice announcing the Blood Demon Art stat increase kicked things off.
Kyaak!
The massacre began.
He slashed every one that came at him, and slashed again.
Even without Burning Time, he believed the grind would yield something new.
Mastering killing intent.
Training against multiples.
Sometimes, he even imagined hypothetical allies.
He wouldn't waste these 900 days.
Maybe Azmun, sensing Kang San's intent to exploit the trial, had cut Burning Time off after just 30 days to tempt him. Begging him to cross the line in the tedium. Cross it again, push the Blood Demon Art to its limit, and instead of sweet rewards, qi deviation awaited.
When that urge hit, he gritted his teeth.
Deflecting a werewolf's strike, he instantly spotted and severed its vitals with a single glance.
Splurt.
Kreeeek!
That was when it happened.
Flash—
A memory sucked him in abruptly.
Kang San's eyes flew wide as he confronted yet another new world.
An old man appeared.
The atmosphere was different from usual.
Sometimes he'd watch impassively, other times grin cruelly as he drove the man into trials, but now the old man's face was flushed beet red, like it might burst. His trembling beard betrayed his disappointment toward the man.
"What in the world were you thinking?"
"..."
Silence.
No answer came.
Like a man awaiting judgment, he kept his head bowed, avoiding the old man's gaze.
"When I heard you'd killed Nangong Baek, I was thrilled. It proved your efforts weren't in vain, that you had what it took to succeed me. I planned to pass everything on to you if you returned alive. To let you truly become the Blood Demon—to burn the entire Central Plains martial world and slaughter the wicked if that's what you desired. But."
Shhh.
Killing intent rose.
The old man had placed the man's life on the execution block.
"Why the hell did you meddle in Baek Clan affairs? Some say it happened during a clash with the Nangong Clan's pursuit squad, that you massacred the Golden Fox Merchant Group in the crossfire. But that's not the truth. You went there yourself. You stuck your nose into strangers' business and invited disaster. Do you still have emotions left? Pity for others, wanting to avenge them? Or drunk on your petty power, itching to show off? Speak up—say something!"
Riiiing—
A shrill tinnitus pierced his ears.
Blood trickled from the man's ears under the old man's profound inner energy.
He offered no excuses.
The man looked up calmly.
"I just... felt compelled."
"Felt compelled? Even if it killed you?"
"I survived in the end, didn't I? Why hound me like this, Master? You ordered me to kill Nangong Baek, and I executed it flawlessly—even butchered the entire pursuit squad. Step into any market now, and everyone's talking about the Blood Demon. A new devil has appeared. Isn't that enough?"
The old man's eyebrow twitched.
Killing intent boiled over.
The old him would've beheaded the man already, but for some reason, he curled his lips into a smirk.
"Fine. A disciple who's inherited the Blood Demon Art wouldn't just roll over meekly—that wouldn't make sense. But I can't pass on any more martial arts to you now. From here on, you'll be constantly tested to see if you truly deserve the name Blood Demon."
He turned on his heel.
"Follow me."
The old man strode ahead.
The man stepped after him.
His plodding footsteps no longer carried any fear of the old man.
It was a village.
From a distance, the old man gazed at it and spoke in a flat tone.
"They're ordinary folk. Born in the countryside, tilling fields from dawn till dusk, gathering with family for simple meals at night. That's their whole lives. Their worst sins? Probably sneaking into neighbors' fields during famines. That's it. So."
He turned.
The old man smiled.
"Massacre everyone in that village. Adults, kids—no exceptions. If that's too much, run away right now. I won't stop you."
It was a test.
The man knew.
Fleeing the judgment...
And the old man would never let him live.
But beyond that, the man had never even considered escaping the old man's grasp.
"Understood."
He moved.
Down the hill, toward the village.
A familiar sensation.
Just like when he'd traveled with the boy calling himself Baek Hyun, slowly heading into crowded spaces.
A small mountain village of a few dozen households.
To them, he was a stranger.
Spotting him, a child who'd been playing air-ball games in a group came toddling over.
"Mister, mister! Wanna play with us?"
The child's eyes sparkled.
No fear of outsiders.
He probably hadn't seen much of the world's harshness.
The man stared at the child.
Beautiful.
A sun-browned country boy rolling in the dirt, but that innocent face melted away the burdens in his heart. The boy's parents must be good people. He'd inherited their kindness, extending a hand to a stranger without hesitation.
How...
Thwack.
Foolish.
He decapitated him in one stroke.
The boy's head flew into the sky. The other children, eyes wide in shock, screamed belatedly.
"Kyaaak!"
"Waaah!"
The kids fled.
The man walked steadily forward.
He was the foolish one.
His life had long crossed the point of no return, so why had he helped that boy Baek Hyun, as the old man said? He'd lost his innocence. Too many things experienced to go back, and he didn't want to live like these idiots welcoming strangers with open arms.
He.
Abandoned his humanity.
Blood dripped from his sword as adults rushed over, hearing the children's screams.
Some gripped pickaxes.
Others wielded logging axes.
How purely they'd lived shone even in their crude weapons.
Strange noises rang out.
The adults wailed and shouted something.
He ignored it.
Human words no longer registered properly.
Step by step.
The man advanced, never stopping.
Kang San opened his eyes.
More precisely, the scenery of the world he'd been watching shifted.
And then.