The Goddess of Victory

There were those in Murim who shouted that they would defeat me. It was only natural for the orthodox faction bastards, and even inside the Demonic Cult there were those who claimed they would prove themselves by defeating me under the law of the strong. Yet as you can see, I never fell. This seat was the Heavenly Demon, and no one could reign above me. But you—you who would have been treated as nothing more than a promising prospect had you existed in Murim—dare to say you will defeat me? After suffering nine straight defeats, you should have learned your place by now. To utter such words… do you truly believe in that dagger of yours? Or are you merely trying to provoke me? I sincerely hope it is the former. That would make this far more entertaining, would it not?

The moment the system declared the start, the knight stepped backward. Was he trying to run? This was different from before. A knight carrying a shield was naturally slow because of the weight of his equipment. He could not possibly be unaware that I could catch up in an instant even if he fled. Then why? Was this action for the sake of that dagger? I could not understand it, but it was fine. I would play along.

I deliberately clasped my hands behind my back and watched the knight’s movements. He stared at me blankly before letting out a hollow laugh.

“You really are an Apis newbie.”

“Whatever you are going to do, do it quickly. Waiting is boring.”

“...Understood.”

Roughly a minute passed. The knight, who had been sprinting around without rest, finally stopped in front of the goat statue near the temple’s massive wall.

“Are you prepared?”

“You’re really not going to stop me?”

“If I stopped you, would you be able to defeat me?”

“You won’t call me cowardly later, right?”

What ridiculous nonsense. In a fight, there is no such thing as cowardice. Whether one uses poison, hidden weapons, or sorcery—if it leads to victory, then it is the correct choice. A true powerhouse must crush all such tricks and seize triumph. That is the way.

The knight began to mutter. It was a language I had never heard before—an otherworldly tongue that stirred irritation simply by reaching the ear. The instant his words ended—

Boom!

A fissure ran across the temple wall, and from it flowed an energy that felt profoundly unclean. It reminded me of the power the Blood Cult bastards used—something that grew by devouring human lives. What exactly was waiting behind that wall?

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Finally a hole opened, and something black seeped out. The temple shook violently. Dust rained from the ceiling, cracks spiderwebbed across the floor. The massive wall twisted. More holes appeared, and the black substance leaked from every one of them. Before long the black had begun to devour the temple’s ceiling. Looking up at it made my stomach turn, so I lowered my gaze.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

At last the wall shattered completely, and the master of that energy revealed itself. It, too, was black. Its size was colossal. One would probably need to stack seven adult men to reach its head. It possessed a human silhouette, yet it was merely imitating the shape. The writhing, amorphous blackness made it clear it could change form at any moment. Dozens of tentacle-like strands of darkness sprouted from its back like living shadows.

What should one call such a thing? An existence beyond human cognition—one that must not be understood. Simply standing there shook the human psyche to its core. I felt every hair on my body stand on end.

Fear.

Ha. Hahahahaha! Fear? This body—this seat—was feeling fear?

“Just what is that thing?”

“My goddess of victory.”

“That? You look perfectly sane, yet you worship a heretical deity? Even the scraps of the Blood Cult would refuse to venerate such a thing.”

“It’s obviously a metaphor!”

The black entity strode past the knight and looked down at me. The red eyes gleaming through the corruption were utterly repulsive. My instincts screamed at me. Run. It is dangerous. Do not fight it. Reason shouted as well. It is an existence that cannot be defeated. Facing it would be nothing but a dog’s death.

Yet I clenched my fist. It was not because I was the Heavenly Demon. It was because this seat was a martial artist that I stepped forward.

Why do martial artists pursue strength? To protect their own bodies? That may be part of it. But those who hold such goals never reach greatness. To obtain power and thereby seize authority? A plausible reason. Yet those who hold such purposes never ascend to the highest seat.

The martial artists who truly reach the pinnacle are all lunatics. Madmen who never stop climbing higher and higher solely to prove their own martial path. If they conquer a hill, they set their eyes on a mountain. Having climbed the mountain, they aim for a greater range. Having conquered the range, they seek something even higher. Upon reaching the tallest peak, they challenge the sky itself! And having touched the sky, they reach for the stars!

And I was the craziest bitch in all of Murim.

My heart pounded. This was an opponent worth fighting, was it not? How fortunate that this was not my real body. Otherwise I would not have been able to enjoy it for long.

“Heh.”

Come, then.

“Puhahaha!”

Prove your strength. Show me that my instincts were wrong.

“Heavenly Demon Baek Hwaryeong! I challenge you to a battle of life and death!”

The black entity answered by lashing out with the tentacles sprouting from its back.

Therefore Jong-un had assumed that no matter how skilled the user named Hwaryeong was, she would be unable to hold out against the Outer God.

“That person… was going easy on me.”

But that had been a misconception. Jong-un let out a hollow laugh as he watched the Outer God and the Heavenly Demon clash. Hwaryeong was currently fighting the Outer God on equal footing. The woman sent her martial robes fluttering as she evaded the tentacles shooting toward her. She burst from a cloud of dust, rode one of the tentacles upward, and drove her fist straight into the Outer God’s body. A shockwave erupted, shaking the entire temple. The Outer God staggered backward as though it had taken genuine damage. Meanwhile the Heavenly Demon who had landed back on the ground frowned, clenching and unclenching her fist as if something displeased her.

“So even the Outer God takes damage from punches.”

“Yes. It can be killed. I once gathered ten streamers I knew and attempted a raid. We managed to defeat it after several days.”

The raid they had begun lightly had stretched on for days before they succeeded. That was how difficult it was to face an Outer God. A single hit would shave off seventy percent of one’s health with no recovery methods available, and instant-death patterns were scattered throughout the fight. Success had been nothing short of a miracle.

“But doing it alone is impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

Even if Hwaryeong made not a single mistake, it could not be done. It was not a question of whether it was possible—it was simply beyond the realm of possibility.

Boom!

At the tremendous noise I turned my head and saw the Outer God embedded in the broken wall beyond. Just what kind of punch could send a monster several times one’s own size flying? It must have been difficult, yet Hwaryeong was smiling. As though the current situation brought her immense joy.

“What are you saying, dindong? Turn on Apis right now and try playing the Heavenly Demon yourself. See if you can do that.”

Jong-un also knew how to handle the Heavenly Demon character. Having reached Challenger tier, he was not at a level where others could claim he was unskilled. Yet if asked whether he could play the Heavenly Demon the way that user Hwaryeong did, he would answer that he could not. The Heavenly Demon was an absurdly demanding character. Most Apis players relied on the Correction System—an AI that turned modern people who knew nothing about martial arts into masters. Many could not play the game at all without it.

However, the Heavenly Demon required turning the correction off. The correction system performed terribly on that character. Without playing manually, one could not bring out even half of half of its true performance. In simple terms, the Heavenly Demon was a character that demanded the player personally execute martial arts without AI assistance—a character whose performance directly reflected the pilot’s own skill.

Therefore the only reason she could rampage like that was purely the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠power of Hwaryeong—this user’s own ability.

When the fallen Outer God rose once more, fragments of the temple rained down with heavy thuds.

As the Outer God roared, the dark energy that had been spread throughout the temple began gathering around it.

“The instant-death pattern has appeared.”

It should be over now. No matter how strong that person was, she would not be able to block this.

The black entity was an opponent that felt satisfying to strike. It had been a long time since something endured a full-powered blow without shattering. As for the rest… the Outer God’s attacks were not particularly threatening. Its tentacles were fast and fierce, yet their intentions were far too obvious. Whether attempting to stab or to bind me, once the intent was read they could no longer reach me.

Occasionally the Outer God would swing its own fist, but the motions were large and clumsy. Unless one were a fool, there was no reason to be hit by such attacks. Their destructive power was certainly outstanding, but that was all. The after-stiffness was so severe that it was better not to attack at all.

By the time I finished analyzing the black entity, I had concluded that I could secure victory against it without much difficulty. Why had I felt fear toward something like this? Had even my instincts grown dull?

The black entity that had fallen rose once again. Fragments of the temple clattered down around it. It was difficult to read emotion from those red eyes, yet somehow I sensed that it was enraged.

For the first time the black entity opened its mouth. As though drawn by the roar, the ominous energies it emitted coalesced around it. A large-scale attack? It was showing its intention so blatantly. It almost seemed to be begging me to block it.

I tried to step forward, but the tentacles blocked my path. They had gathered together to form a single solid wall.

Tsk. So it did possess some degree of thought. How annoying. Dodging the tentacles was not difficult, but breaking through when they were deliberately obstructing me would take time. Since they were part of the black entity and just as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard, if I truly wished I could pierce them—yet by then the black entity would have finished its preparation. In that case, it was better to wait for it to complete its technique and then shatter it completely.

Before long the tentacles scattered. A colossal energy could be felt gathering inside the black entity’s mouth. Holding such power within its maw—did it intend to fire it? Like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a dragon’s breath?

It was already too late to dodge. Any clumsy movement would only drag me into the aftermath. The energy was powerful enough to rival a divine beast. Even a grazing blow would inflict devastating damage. So what should I do?

I would simply counter it. If I shattered whatever it fired with my own fist, that would be the end of it. If you ask whether I am confident? I would answer without hesitation. The power I had cultivated over a lifetime could not possibly lose to such a crude attack. I must not conserve my internal energy. Were this reality it might be different, but right now I am weak. I have no luxury to consider distribution. I must give everything.

Come. This is the decisive moment, nameless black thing. Whether your breath is stronger, or whether my fist is stronger—we shall see for ourselves!