The Heavenly Demon Takes the Field (9)
To summarize the fists used by Apis's Fist King in a single word, it would be brute force. There was no such thing as defense. It was as if he proved with his own body that attack was the best defense. That stubbornness was exactly why other users avoided head-on battles with Fist King characters.
And Gwon-jon was the one who had taken this Fist King character to its absolute limit. With beast-like intuition and overwhelming reflexes, he stood above everyone when it came to crushing an opponent from the front. On the flip side, he wasn't skilled at intelligent play. He didn't actively use the map to win without a proper fight, nor did he toy with opponents through psychological warfare. If anything, he was the type who more often fell for his opponent's schemes.
If you looked only at raw combat power, it wouldn't be strange for Gwon-jon to get scouted by a pro team. The fact that he remained an amateur wasn't just due to his own wishes—reasons like this played a part too. In other words, Gwon-jon had nearly become a pro on the strength of pure power alone.
Ha-rin broke into a cold sweat as she watched the fist graze past her cheek. Has he gotten stronger? If it went even a little further, wouldn't it reach the point where even a graze caused injury, just like with the third elder?
She instinctively knew that allowing even one clean hit would tilt the game completely. Still, this much was manageable. Compared to the fists Hwaryeong had used to torment her, Gwon-jon's punches were nothing. Having been enthusiastically beaten not long ago, Ha-rin still remembered Hwaryeong's fists vividly.
Her fists defied description. They looked slow, yet somehow arrived right before her eyes. They seemed lightly swung, yet a direct hit would send her body flying through the air. Fists she thought she'd dodged would suddenly bury themselves in vital points.
Hwaryeong's fists had reached a realm where resistance itself felt meaningless. It was divine punishment from the heavens. No matter how much consideration the god showed, it was not something a mere human could handle.
Having experienced such fists to the point of exhaustion, Ha-rin adapted to Gwon-jon's punches almost immediately. Certainly his fists were fierce. Each one carried enormous power—if you dared clash with them head-on, you would be shattered along with your will to resist. But that was all.
Victory wasn't decided by the strength of fists alone. When martial artists clashed, only one thing proved their victory: martial arts.
The current Ha-rin understood. She understood that Gwon-jon didn't truly know what martial arts were. He was simply imitating what was engraved on the Fist King's body, just like everyone else. The education Ha-rin had received wasn't sloppy enough for her to lose to someone who didn't even understand the art they wielded.
Once again, Gwon-jon's fist grazed past Ha-rin's side. At first glance it looked like Gwon-jon held the flow, but the reality was different. His fists only brushed by without ever truly reaching her. Ha-rin's movements were like endlessly flowing wind. A human hand could not catch the wind.
"You're pretty good at dodging!"
"Isn't it that you're the one who can't land a hit, Sir Gwon-jon?"
Once more Gwon-jon's fist sliced through empty air. This time was different. The opening was large. It was clearly a mistake that could reverse the flow. Judging it an opportunity, Ha-rin moved her hand for the first time. Her fist shot forward.
Watching the fist fly toward him, Gwon-jon felt puzzled. Though he didn't know much about martial arts, he could tell that what Ha-rin was using wasn't the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. He didn't feel the unique oppressive aura of the Heavenly Demon from her.
What is that?
By the time the thought formed, Ha-rin's fist had already arrived in front of him. It was fast. Deciding he couldn't dodge, Gwon-jon hurriedly lowered his head and took the blow on his forehead. His skull rang. Though it looked infinitely light, the fist carried real power.
The offensive continued without pause. Overall, Ha-rin's attacks were light. Like a passing breeze, they irritated the nerves but offered no real threat. The blade winds hidden among them, however, were different. Those were fierce gales capable of tearing skin and splitting bone.
The problem was that it was impossible to tell which was a gentle breeze and which was a blade wind. To Gwon-jon, every fist looked like the same wind. As a result, he had no choice but to stay wary of them all.
The defensive struggle continued. After repeatedly blocking fist after fist, Gwon-jon gritted his teeth. The correct move now was to shake Ha-rin off—to break free from her rhythm and reset the fight. But his pride wouldn't allow it.
In his eyes, until recently Ha-rin had been beneath him. An inferior. Someone he was certain he could beat no matter how many times they clashed. The fact that he was being pushed in a head-on fight—the one thing he was most confident in—by such a person robbed him of his reason.
So Gwon-jon chose to gamble. He predicted that the fist flying at his face would be a gentle breeze. Instead of dodging, he decided to take it and stepped forward.
His gamble succeeded. Ha-rin's fist was a spring breeze. Even though he took it head-on, the damage wasn't severe. What he gained was enormous. Having chosen to prepare an attack rather than defend, Gwon-jon created an opening to throw his own punch. He bought time to prepare a killing blow.
I'll blow you away.
Determination burned in Gwon-jon's eyes. Inner energy flooded his fist. A smile formed on his lips as his planted foot dug into the ground. Gwon-jon's full-power punch shook the world.
The result was destructive. The fist, bursting through the air, overturned the earth, sent soldiers flying, and only stopped after shattering several trees.
But something was strange. At the end of the fist that should have crushed its target, he felt nothing. It was as if he had punched at a passing wind.
In that instant, Gwon-jon spotted Ha-rin standing beside his fist, smiling.
A gasp of admiration escaped him.
Ha-rin was no simple Heavenly Demon character user. She was a true martial artist. She was the wind itself.
Dekay had forgotten he was supposed to be commentating and simply watched the battle between Ha-rin and Gwon-jon. The clash of fist against fist without a single step back was a scene that perfectly realized the romance of Apis users. Everyone dreamed of such sights when they first entered Apis. They hoped to become heroes from fantasy and engage in fierce battles.
But they were powerless before reality. Reality was different. To win in Apis there was no need to roll in the mud. With so many other comfortable and effective methods available, there was no reason to cling to frontal combat.
Those who began full of romantic ideals, shouting for fair fights, naturally began seeking any means for victory once they experienced reality. Competing against others inevitably meant confronting reality before the results.
But those two were different. Standing in the middle of a battlefield more chaotic than anywhere else, they chose the most inefficient method without the slightest hesitation.
However, NyanNyan wasn't allowing any hits! She dodged! Dodged again! And kept dodging! She wouldn't give up a clean hit even if grazed!
Hwaryeong's lips curved slightly as she watched Ha-rin. Ha-rin was finally understanding the martial art she possessed and putting it into practice. She had become an endlessly flowing wind and learned how to deflect her opponent's attacks.
The girl who had gained enlightenment without even realizing it was gone. Ha-rin was clearly a martial artist now.
The fists Ha-rin unleashed were different from what other Heavenly Demon users employed. Her punches were light and fast—a completely different style from the one engraved on the Heavenly Demon's body.
"That is not the Heavenly Demon's technique."
"Then..."
"It's Ha-rin's technique."
The moment Hwaryeong stated it with certainty, Dekay understood without needing further explanation. The gamer named Ha-rin wasn't merely famous in Apis. She was a player who had built her reputation in other murim games. She was a user recognized for her passion for the genre after playing Hwaryong Muin from its early days.
The name of the martial art she used in that game was definitely...
"Wind Flow Fist."
"Correct. She is currently using the principles of wind flow."
"She's using her own martial art with the Heavenly Demon's body without any adjustments?!"
"That's right."
It was unbelievable. Each character had techniques assigned to fit them. Just as a dragon hunter used a spear and a sword-and-shield knight used sword and shield, the game dictated that the Heavenly Demon should use the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
If Hwaryeong's words were true, Ha-rin was currently ignoring the system. She was breaking the game's rules.
"It's inefficient!"
There was no way it could be efficient. Just as handing a club to a character designed for a sword wouldn't produce proper performance, using Wind Flow Fist with the Heavenly Demon's body was foolish.
"But isn't it cool?"
Yet sometimes the word efficiency lost all meaning. There were moments when being inefficient stirred people's hearts. Like right now.
Unable to endure Ha-rin's endless offensive, Gwon-jon threw out his trump card. While blocking her attacks he prepared his own. That trump card was a successful gamble. The shattered ground. Soldiers sent flying into the distance. The forest turned to ruins. All of it proved as much.
Yet Gwon-jon's fist had failed to strike the most important thing. Ha-rin stood beside his punch, smiling.
"Who decided by law that the Heavenly Demon must use the Heavenly Demon Divine Art?"
"No one."
"Does not using the Heavenly Demon Divine Art mean you lose the game?"
"It doesn't."
"Then there's no problem doing as one pleases. This isn't reality. It's a game. A game is ultimately about enjoying yourself, isn't it?"
It was exactly as Hwaryeong said. The essence of a game was to have fun. Efficiency or inefficiency didn't matter.
Dekay smiled and put more energy into his voice.