The Adult (2)
He clenched his teeth until they ached, letting the electric current coiled beneath his skin surge freely. The water touching his body became a perfect conductor, carrying the flow across every inch of him. The sensation of lightning racing through his entire frame—something that normally only sparked from his palms or the soles of his feet—was alien even to him. A technique he almost never used. In Ha Jinwoo’s long life, he had only ever resorted to it twice before.
He stimulated the kill switch buried deep in his muscles with a precise jolt of electricity. It was the reason only one of the 427 candidates had survived. The South Korean government’s desperate attempt to keep their ambitious project under control. The lightning that was supposed to operate safely inside his body now rampaged wildly. It should have killed him. It would have killed anyone else.
Yet it didn’t.
The massive surge that should have cooked his brain instead sharpened his cognition to an unbearable degree. The electricity that would have paralyzed his muscles and heart if left unchecked now raced along his skin, discharging outward through the water. His exhaled breath came out scorching. He couldn’t hold this state for long. But if he wanted to kill an immortal who refused to die, this was the only way.
Knowing that, Ha Jinwoo charged.
The floor shattered beneath his foot with a deafening crack. Stone fragments exploded outward. Corven’s eyes widened as he crossed his arms to block. A thunderous impact rang out. The front kick carried the full weight of Jinwoo’s body behind it. Corven, who had already been losing in skill, was now being overwhelmed in raw power as well.
No. Not power. Speed…!
His guard was blasted aside. Lightning coursed through his gauntlets, locking his muscles, lifting his arms, and leaving his torso exposed. Jinwoo’s fist drove straight into the opening.
The impact slammed into the breastplate, crumpling the metal and shattering the ribs beneath it. The hook landed with bone-deep force. Even if Corven had managed to raise his guard, the blow would have been devastating. But his guard was gone. His speed could no longer keep up.
In pure strength Corven still held the advantage, but now he was losing in speed. He was losing in output. Once his muscles locked up, even overwhelming power became useless.
Another thunderous crash. Corven couldn’t even register the next attack. A spinning kick whipped out faster than he could retract his fist, slamming into the side of his helmet with enough force to send him staggering. The sound of metal fracturing echoed through the chamber. The proud plate armor of the blood clan was being smashed apart by nothing more than fists and feet.
What the hell is—
His consciousness, momentarily severed, flickered back. He threw a reflexive punch. Jinwoo was no longer there. The man had already circled to his side, seized the extended arm, and hurled him to the ground.
The sickening crack of bone breaking filled the air.
“Guh…?!”
His arm snapped. As if that weren’t enough, a foot came down on his head. His ears rang. A fracture spiderwebbed across his skull. At this rate, he would die. Corven forced his broken arm to move and swung wildly at Jinwoo. The blow was blocked, but it still managed to shove the man back.
Jinwoo, clearly not expecting a broken arm to be used as a weapon, grimaced as he was sent flying. Then he lightly tapped the ceiling with one foot, twisted his body in midair, and came down with an axe kick.
The impact was catastrophic. Corven, who had only just begun to rise, was slammed back into the floor so hard his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. It was overwhelming. So completely, utterly overwhelming that it bordered on surreal.
The martial art had been designed to fight beings that transcended humanity. Defense, offense, counterattack—none of it was possible. Even with pure output alone it would have been difficult, but now his body simply wouldn’t listen.
I can’t move…!
Every time he was struck, his muscles seized. The more they seized, the more perfectly the next blow landed, and the more they seized again. An inescapable cycle. A feeling like drowning in quicksand. For the first time in his life, Corven understood what it meant to be truly overpowered.
The beastkin with the greatest physical strength could not surpass the blood clan. Even the vaunted demon race fell short. As a member of the race the Church of Light had desperately tried to exterminate, his pride crumbled. Yet in the place where that pride collapsed, Corven found himself smiling.
An opponent who was not merely equal but overwhelmingly superior. A worthy foe who could elevate his martial arts to greater heights. Or, failing that, a true powerhouse who could grant him an honorable death. A being with physical abilities comparable to an ogre despite not being one, who wielded mysterious lightning. A blue dragon mystic? But he has no dragon scales.
With over a century of training behind him, Corven understood. Ha Jinwoo was stronger than any warrior he had ever faced.
He felt it the moment he raised his arm to block a flying fist. The extended punch opened up. In an instant his wrist was caught. Before he could twist free, his balance was already gone. A seamless transition from striking to grappling. The moment his body tilted, his guard rose on pure survival instinct. Jinwoo’s kick slammed down onto that guard with bone-shattering force.
The armor was already falling apart. The helmet split open, revealing his face. White hair whipped through the air as electricity flowed down the captured wrist and into his body. Yet he still did not die.
“Aaaaaah!”
His swinging fist never connected. Jinwoo simply stepped aside, twisted the captured wrist to redirect the attack, and drove a kick into his abdomen. The breastplate shattered completely. Corven felt his own body being shoved forward even as it was knocked back.
A fist smashed into his face. Teeth scattered like hail. He tried to block the next punch, but it was pointless. Corven threw his own fist in return, only for Jinwoo to yank the captured wrist forward and drive an elbow into his temple.
The world spun. It felt like his neck would snap. He couldn’t adapt to the electricity racing across his skin. There was no way he could. The moment he thought his wrist had finally slipped free—
A spinning kick carrying the full weight of Jinwoo’s body hurled him to the ground. Even as the dented, crumpled armor fell away in fragments, Corven forced himself back to his feet. His arm, finally free of paralysis, rose just in time to meet a descending boot. The metal-plated heel smashed his nose and drove his head back with the force of a cannon shot. A groan escaped through his clenched teeth.
His gauntlet crumpled as his back slammed into the shutter behind him. He heard footsteps beyond the ringing metal, but he had no attention to spare. Jinwoo was already flying toward him again.
A flying knee strike. The impact shook the superalloy shutter and made blood erupt from his mouth. His internal organs ruptured and regenerated. His regenerative ability was reaching its limit. His entire body was in shambles—arms, ribs, skull—all of them broken or cracked and healing over and over.
He could no longer even think of counterattacking. Another spinning kick filled his vision. Before he could raise his arms to defend, it slammed into his head, rattling his brain. Pain blurred his sight. His muscles convulsed uncontrollably. Corven tumbled across the floor only to be kicked again, rolling like a broken doll.
Get a hold of yourself.
He steadied his breathing. Jinwoo leapt. The follow-up kick cratered the floor where his head had been. Cracks spiderwebbed outward. Despite his ragged breathing, Jinwoo still looked remarkably composed.
A hollow laugh escaped Corven. He stopped trying to hide his smile and settled into a fighting stance. Victory had stopped being possible long ago. Even before Jinwoo entered this state, Corven had only held the advantage in regeneration and raw strength. Without that overwhelming skill that rendered strength meaningless, perhaps things would have been different—but such hypotheticals were pointless.
Still, if there was even the slightest chance… That state, the lightning wrapped around his body. It clearly couldn’t be maintained indefinitely, nor comfortably. There had to be a burden. Otherwise he would have used it from the start. Therefore, Corven could still fight.
Twisting his lips into a wide, savage grin, he charged at Jinwoo at the same moment Jinwoo charged at him.
The ground split apart. Super-soldier and vampire threw their fists at each other simultaneously. Corven’s head snapped violently to the side. His neck bones screamed in protest. If the blow had been even slightly stronger, they would have shattered. As for Jinwoo? He had taken half a step sideways before the fist could land.
Corven regenerated. He regenerated and responded. Laughing madly through his twisted mouth, he stepped forward again. This time, for the first time, Corven was faster. His kick slammed into Jinwoo’s abdomen, bruising the muscles beneath the gambeson. He no longer bothered to defend. He simply met every attack head-on.
Jinwoo adapted to the new pattern. The moment Jinwoo extended a punch, Corven threw his own, intending to trade blow for blow. An attack made possible only by faith in his regeneration. It was too late to be elegant, but it was effective. Yet Jinwoo responded perfectly. He retracted his punch, slapped Corven’s incoming fist aside with an open palm, and drove an elbow into his temple.
Consciousness fading, surrounded by falling water, Corven smiled without realizing it. He twisted his waist again and threw another heavy punch. Jinwoo deflected it as if it were nothing. Every time Jinwoo’s hand made contact, Corven’s next movement slowed. His head snapped back from a devastating impact, and a barrage of fists followed the first.
Blow after precise, efficient blow. Each one carried the weight of accumulated skill and experience that had never been wasted. The dignity only the truly strong could possess. An uppercut jerked his head back, followed immediately by a kick to the stomach that made him feel every ounce of that accumulated power.
Magnificent.
His extended fist was caught. With a flowing motion, his arm was not only broken but nearly torn from its socket. Even knowing it would regenerate, Corven could only feel admiration. And it didn’t end there. A rising leg smashed into his jaw, sending his entire body reeling backward with a thunderous crack. Any normal human would have died several times over—cardiac arrest, cervical fracture, internal rupture, spinal damage. But Corven was a vampire.
“Magnificent!”
He regenerated in an instant and counterattacked. His crossed arms blocked the incoming punch, driving Jinwoo back into the shutter with a heavy crash.
“Give me more, Ha Jinwoo!”
Corven’s eyes blazed as he rushed forward. Jinwoo clicked his tongue softly and lowered his stance, springing out to meet him. Their fists collided in a one-sided exchange of brutality. When Jinwoo’s fist smashed into Corven’s head, Jinwoo himself twisted aside from the counter, drove a fist into his opponent’s ribs, then used a knee to the jaw and an elbow to the throat before hurling him to the floor.
The sound of flesh being pulverized and bones breaking echoed again and again. Every three strikes from Jinwoo, Corven answered with one of his own. Both warriors understood. If Jinwoo wanted to win, he had to end it now. The kill switch left nothing behind. Exhaustion would follow.
Corven already knew the outcome. He knew he could not endure. So he did not retreat.
A fist smashed into his head. Blood sprayed from torn skin before the wound began to close. Corven laughed, whipping his head forward in a brutal headbutt. Jinwoo’s own head snapped back. Blood trickled from his cracked forehead. The sudden headbutt had caught him off guard. His output was beginning to drop, slowing his reactions.
Jinwoo’s face twisted in clear disgust as he pressed the attack. Beneath the falling sprinkler water, every flash of blue lightning marked another fist landing. A bloody mist sprayed outward. Corven’s eye was gouged out by a thumb strike. A palm strike clapped both ears, robbing him of balance and hearing. A knee followed, smashing upward and sending him reeling.
“Let’s end this.”
The low murmur carried finality. For any living being, those injuries would have been fatal. What he had overlooked was the simple fact that Corven was a vampire. Even without eyes or a sense of balance, Corven launched himself forward.
Before Jinwoo could even blink, the collision came. A violent impact shoved him backward into the shutter. What followed was a barrage that could only be described as madness. Every time Jinwoo raised his arms or curled his body to defend, devastating blows rained down, shaking him to his core.
The shutter began to bend under the relentless pressure. The attacks were desperate, dense, and without a single opening for a counter. Yet Jinwoo’s eyes never left Corven. He focused his micro-current. There was nowhere left to run. He wove the condensed micro-current into an even tighter veil and pushed it forward.
He endured the strikes that should have been slowed by electrocution but somehow weren’t, waiting for a single chance. A thick veil of micro-current rippled like a curtain. Within the radar-like web of Jinwoo’s perception—
There.
Corven drew his body back. Both of them had seen it. This strike would decide everything. Like punctuation at the end of a sentence, Jinwoo dropped his guard and stepped forward. His ankle twisted. His waist rotated powerfully. All the power condensed in his body surged into a single point and exploded forward.
It was a punch carrying every ounce of his remaining strength. Therefore, it could not be allowed to land. Everything now came down to luck.
Jinwoo moved exactly as his reading predicted, eyes wide open. He twisted his head. The fist grazed his cheek, tearing it open. But merely dodging wasn’t enough. His own tightly clenched fist drove forward.
Two fists landed at the same time. Corven’s punch deformed like a lump of meat as it slammed into the shutter. Jinwoo’s fist landed perfectly on Corven’s face. A flawless counter. A lethal strike carrying the full power of Jinwoo’s body.
Corven staggered, grabbing onto Jinwoo even as he began to fall.
“…Take… the child.”
Then he slowly collapsed to the floor.
By the time the weakened sprinkler finally sputtered out, Jinwoo was leaning against the shutter, gasping for breath. Soaked to the bone, his superhuman stamina pushed to its absolute limit. Completely drained, unable to produce even the faintest micro-current, he lifted his head.
A song reached his ears. The noise, incomparable to anything before, finally woke him from his exhaustion.
“…Fairies.”
Between Jinwoo’s low, sunken voice, an acapella chorus drifted closer. Slowly. But his body refused to move. He watched the shadows approaching from within the shutter. They had the appearance of young girls. Identical girls with golden hair and innocent, shining eyes. They filled his entire field of vision, singing as they drew near.
They usually target adventurers whose skin has already been taken, but if that fails, they’ll use any adventurer as a host. They slice open the skin, devour the insides, and lay their eggs within.
Jinwoo recalled Moare’s words and forced himself to his feet. Despite his exhaustion, his body still obeyed. He had no weapon, but he wasn’t yet at the level where he couldn’t fight.
Then I’ll fight.
He let out a dry laugh as he watched the fairies approach.
I wonder if the others are alright.
As he desperately searched for a way to resist or escape, a clear voice rang out.
“All units—”
A pure, ringing voice.
“—throw spears.”
His micro-current no longer functioned. He couldn’t even sense their approach. He simply saw the spears flying. Not toward him, but toward the fairies surrounding the shutter.
The spears carried terrifying power, skewering the fairies completely. The sight was horrific enough to inspire guilt, yet the monsters continued to rush forward with pure, smiling faces. In the next instant, knights stood in their place.
They wore the same pure white armor as Corven. Fully enclosed, not a single inch of skin visible. In their hands they wielded greatswords as tall as an average person. They advanced while butchering the fairies that bared their teeth, moving with disciplined precision. Dozens of knights carving through the horde in perfect formation was an awe-inspiring sight.
Yet none of them were as imposing as the figure standing at their center.
She wore crimson armor that set her apart from the others. She was a full head shorter than Jinwoo, and the sword she had planted in the ground was far heavier than those carried by the other knights. Even so, her body unmistakably belonged to a woman.
Jinwoo didn’t recognize her. Breathing heavily, he watched her through half-lidded eyes. At least until she removed her helmet.
He didn’t know her face, but he could guess who she was. Red eyes with vertical pupils. Long, wavy white hair that flowed down her back. Neat bangs that revealed one side of her forehead, paired with sharp, cold eyes. An expression that mixed ruthlessness with clear irritation and anger.
Her gaze hardened as it fell on Corven’s body, which could no longer regenerate. Then it shifted to Jinwoo. Her eyes narrowed, evaluating him.
“Are you the Incarnation of Darkness?”
Her voice carried natural authority. Before Jinwoo could answer, she added with a strange hint of contempt, “Your servant and companions have been secured by us.”
Vertea. And Moare and Jenia along with her.
Jinwoo struggled to keep his tired eyelids open. In this situation, he couldn’t handle things alone. The enemy numbers were overwhelming. There were many more like the one he had just defeated. One or two would be manageable if he were at full strength, but three would already be difficult. Their superior regenerative ability made him think meaningless thoughts—if only he had his wartime equipment.
If he had, he might have been able to fight them all. But as things were now? There was no way.
So Jinwoo bluffed.
“And if I am? What do you intend to do about it?”
Are you prepared to oppose the Incarnation of Darkness? The Church of Darkness is sending reinforcements. He had been about to add those words when the vampire woman squeezed her eyes shut. She looked genuinely reluctant. But only for a moment.
“My name is Maribella Malefis Jorinka Et-Noctavier Ro Malefis.”
She opened her eyes, emotions carefully controlled.
“I am the daughter of the Incarnation of Darkness.”