Chapter 89 - When the Plan Falls Apart
The battlefield was eerily silent for a brief moment. Sung Ja-In’s body lay crumpled in the swamp, his face obscured by the mud and debris kicked up by the powerful impact of the [Karma Devil Ball]. The team stood frozen, breaths held, as they stared at the still figure.
Kazue stood closest to the fallen Don, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to steady her breathing. The [Interdimensional Containment Cube] felt heavier in her hand now, the weight of its purpose pressing down on her. The sleek black surface of the cube, engraved with weird alien words that seemed to hum faintly in resonance with her ki, pulsed steadily as if urging her to act. She tightened her grip, her thumb hovering over the runes she would need to reset.
Her mind raced, for a few precious seconds, everything seemed to stop. The world was still, and in that silence, they all thought—hoped—it was over.
Gregor’s low voice broke through her thoughts.
“It’s over.”
He muttered to himself, his tone firm but edged with relief. His stern expression remained, but his shoulders visibly relaxed.
“That impact would have broken anyone. He’s done.”
The idea that everything was finished already was surprising, even to Kazue. They had gone into this fight fully aware of the dangers, knowing Sung Ja-In’s strength and cunning. Yet, now he lay motionless before them. Kazue’s gaze flicked to the others, searching for any sign that they shared her unease. Could it really have been that straightforward?
Chloe, still supporting a heavily injured Katya, furrowed her brows but didn’t respond. Her eyes darted between Sung Ja-In’s unmoving form and the rest of the group, a frown deepening on her face. Kazue could see the conflict in her expression—the same nagging doubt that clawed at her own thoughts.
“It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been.”
The girl thought, her fingers brushing over the cube’s surface as if the tactile motion would ground her. She knew the destruction of Sung Ja-In’s Core Meridian had weakened him significantly. It was a critical part of their strategy, one they had meticulously planned. Still, his apparent defeat felt… off.
“This shouldn’t have been possible.”
She whispered to herself, almost inaudibly. The Sung Ja-In they had fought wasn’t the unstoppable force they had anticipated, and that realization unnerved her.
Kurayami prowled behind her, his sleek, white-furred form crackling with residual electricity from the fight. He growled softly, the sound low and wary, as if sensing something she couldn’t. Kazue glanced at him, her unease deepening.
“Kurayami doesn’t trust this either.”
She thought. Shaking off her hesitation, she exhaled deeply and focused on the task at hand. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time. The plan was clear now: they would proceed to the final step and seal Sung Ja-In in the [Interdimensional Containment Cube]. The device, linked directly to Sebastian, had originally been intended for another purpose, but that no longer mattered. Kazue’s fingers pressed against the buttons, recalibrating the containment field just as Park Zhen had taught her.
“Let’s not waste time, we’re sealing him now.”
She said aloud, her voice firm. She then glanced briefly at the others to gauge their reactions. Gregor seemed resolute, his arms crossed as he stood ready, though a hint of caution lingered in his narrowed eyes. Chloe, however, still looked unsettled, her gaze fixed intently on Sung Ja-In.
Kazue hesitated for the briefest moment, her thumb resting on the button that would activate the cube, but then, an unexpected phenomenon caused her to freeze.
A strange paper talisman appeared above the Don’s chest, suspended eerily in mid-air. Small and humanoid in shape, it seemed fragile at first glance, like a simple slip of parchment. But its surface was covered in glowing blue runes that pulsed faintly, radiating an ominous energy.
“What is that?”
Gregor’s deep voice rumbled, breaking the tense silence. His stance shifted, his hand instinctively moving toward his weapon.
The talisman hovered for a moment longer before descending slowly, almost deliberately, until it pressed firmly against Sung Ja-In’s chest. The contact triggered a reaction—bright arcs of light shot out from the runes, spreading across his body like veins filled with molten energy.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The air became heavier, charged with an oppressive force that pressed down on all of them. Sung Ja-In’s limbs twitched once, then jerked violently as his body responded to the runic energy. His muscles began to bulge unnaturally, his chest heaving as if he were gasping for air.
“Something’s wrong…”
Chloe murmured, her voice laced with unease. Her eyes flickered with green light as she instinctively activated her skill, [Lifeweaver’s Gaze]. Layers of translucent data unfolded in her vision, centering on Sung Ja-In’s prone body.
⌠Patient: Sung Ja-In⌡ ⌠Affliction: [Regeneration], [Damaged Core Meridian(Healing 1%)], [Empowered]⌡ ⌠Condition: Enraged, Grateful, Hurt, Fanatical⌡
Chloe’s breath caught in her throat as the information sank in.
“No… that can’t be right…”
She whispered, her voice trembling. Her gaze darted to the others, her panic barely contained.
“Stop him! He’s regenerating!”
She shouted, her words cutting through the suffocating tension. Gregor and Kazue both snapped to attention, their earlier sense of relief now replaced by a growing sense of dread. Chloe’s urgent tone left no room for doubt.
As they looked back at Sung Ja-In, his transformation continued. The glowing runes seeped deeper into his flesh, his previously battered body mending itself at an alarming rate. Wounds that had seemed fatal moments ago were now closing before their eyes and a guttural growl escaped from his throat, low and primal, sending a shiver through the group. His eyes, still closed, began to twitch as if he were fighting to awaken.
Kazue’s heart raced as she gripped the cube, her mind singularly focused on activating it. Her thumb slammed against the button without hesitation, the sleek surface humming as it powered up. Sung Ja-In’s body shimmered, his form breaking apart into tendrils of crimson energy, drawn toward the cube’s center.
For a fleeting second, it looked like they had succeeded, but relief barely had time to register before the device emitted a sharp, jarring whine. The crimson tendrils reversed course, snapping back into Sung’s form. His body reassembled as if nothing had happened, the glowing talisman on his chest flaring with brilliant blue runes that spread across his skin, stabilizing his injuries.
Kazue’s stomach dropped. The cube had failed.
Gregor, his face set in grim determination, reacted instantly. He broke into a sprint toward Sung Ja-In’s position, his movements fluid and precise despite the uneven terrain.
Sebastian’s Goliath followed a split second later, the giant machine tearing through the swampy ground with relentless force. Its massive claws crackled with residual sparks, primed to strike the Don down.
Kazue didn’t falter either. She discarded the cube into her pocket immediately, electricity arcing across her gauntlet as she charged forward. Her right fist, glowing with raw electric energy, snapped forward in a direct assault. Her eyes locked onto the talisman blazing on Sung’s chest—it had to be the key.
But before she could strike, the Don’s body shimmered, distorting like heatwaves in the air. He vanished.
Gregor’s eyes darted wildly.
“Where—?”
A rush of displaced air signaled Sung Ja-In’s sudden movement, but the group barely had time to register it. His teleportation skill made it seem as if he attacked all three simultaneously, the sheer speed and precision leaving Kazue, Gregor, and Sebastian completely unable to react—or even comprehend what was happening.
In the first instant, Sung appeared next to Kazue. His fist shot forward with lightning speed, slamming into her face. The impact was devastating, sending her head snapping back with enough force to create a shockwave that rippled through the air. Kazue’s body was hurled to the ground, skidding across the mud as blood streamed from her nose and mouth. Sparks flickered weakly from her gauntlets as her form lay still for a moment.
Almost simultaneously, Sung materialized above Gregor. A brutal kick collided with his stomach, the force of the blow amplified by a shockwave that cracked the surrounding swampy terrain. Gregor’s body lifted off the ground like a rag doll before crashing into a nearby tree with a sickening thud. He collapsed at its base, wheezing and clutching his abdomen as sharp, searing pain radiated through his torso.
At the exact same moment, Sung appeared in front of Sebastian’s robot. His fist, now glowing with raw, crackling energy, drove into the machine’s chest. The force of the impact sent a resounding shockwave that reverberated through the swamp. Metal screeched as the Goliath’s armor buckled inward, the blow powerful enough to drive the massive machine partially into the muck. Inside the cockpit, Sebastian gritted his teeth, gripping the controls desperately as sparks flew around him. The violent tremors from the attack rattled the cabin, making it a struggle just to keep the machine upright.
The precision and brutality of the assault left the three combatants momentarily incapacitated, a testament to Sung Ja-In’s terrifying resurgence.
Kazue lay on the ground, barely conscious. Her vision swam as pain radiated through her body—her nose broken, lips split, and several teeth loosened. Nearby, Gregor groaned, his breaths shallow and labored. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth as he clutched his chest, his broken ribs making even the smallest movement agonizing. Both struggled to reach into their gear, their trembling hands finding the ‘Jade Sage Pill’. With the last vestiges of strength, they swallowed the pills, feeling the warmth of the potent remedy begin its work. However, they both knew it would take precious seconds before the healing effects would allow them to rejoin the fight.
The Goliath, too, was in dire straits. Sparks sprayed from its battered frame as Sebastian fought the controls, attempting to coax the machine back to its feet. Every system screamed warnings, but his focus remained unshaken as he wrestled against the damage.
Sung Ja-In stood at the center of the battlefield, untouched and exuding an air of unrelenting menace. The talisman on his chest pulsed brighter, feeding the raw energy coursing through his form. His expression remained eerily calm, but his eyes burned with a fanatical intensity.
“You invaders truly thought you could end this here?”
He said, his voice a chilling mixture of mockery and steel.
“You should thank Lord Varek for the power he has bestowed upon me. Without his grace, I might have fallen to such pathetic attempts.”
Before his words fully registered, a sudden presence appeared beside him—Katya. Her features were twisted with fury, her eyes blazing as they locked onto Sung. Her obsession with Kazue surged to the forefront, and seeing her brutally hurt had ignited a fire within her.
Without a word, she lashed out with her living scythe, the weapon enormous and grotesque. Its blade gleamed with an unnatural light as it howled toward the Don. He teleported just as the scythe struck, narrowly evading the deadly swing.
Sung Ja-In reappeared behind Katya in a flash, his body twisting with fluid precision as he unleashed a devastating spiral punch. His fist rotated sharply, the sheer force of the motion generating a vortex-like pressure that distorted the air around it. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he drove the strike toward Katya’s back, aiming to shatter her spine and end the fight in one decisive blow.
But before the attack could land, her scythe moved. As if possessed by its own will, the weapon's monstrous arms erupted from its handle. The grotesque, sinewy limbs moved with unnatural speed, their clawed hands intercepting the man’s strike mere inches from Katya’s body.
The impact reverberated through the battlefield, creating a shockwave that sent ripples across the swampy terrain. Sparks erupted where Sung Ja-In’s spiraling fist met the scythe’s claws, the collision producing an ear-splitting screech of metal against otherworldly flesh.
Katya didn’t even flinch. She stood motionless, her gaze locked elsewhere, seemingly unaware of the attack she had just evaded. Yet her scythe acted as though it shared her fury, responding instinctively to protect her from harm.
Sung’s eyes narrowed as he withdrew, his arm tingling from the unnatural resistance. For the first time, his calculated composure wavered, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. The living scythe loomed ominously, its claws flexing as though taunting him, daring him to try again.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Sung teleported again, this time above Katya, aiming to deliver a crushing blow. But her rage sharpened her reactions. She raised her head and, with shocking ferocity, intercepted his strike with a headbutt. A sickening crack resounded as her forehead split open from the impact, but to Sung’s astonishment, she withstood the attack.
This was his fifth consecutive teleportation, and the cooldown of his skill began. Katya recognized the moment instantly. With a guttural scream, she swung her scythe in a sweeping arc. Sung narrowly twisted his body to avoid the blade, but the scythe’s monstrous arms dug into the ground, anchoring themselves and changing the blade’s trajectory mid-swing.
The blade slashed across the Don’s chest, cutting deep. A scream tore from his throat as blood sprayed from the wound. His hand instinctively flew to the glowing talisman on his chest, now dimmer than before. For the first time after his recovery, Sung Ja-In’s composure cracked, and a flicker of pain and anger crossed his face.
Meanwhile, Chloe ran with everything she had, her legs burning from the effort as she pushed through the swampy terrain. The thick, muddy ground clung to her shoes, slowing her down with every step, but her focus remained sharp. She couldn't afford to waste any time. Her eyes darted between the battlefield and Kazue, the one she had closer, who lay broken and bloodied on the ground. Chloe’s breath came in ragged bursts, panic slowly creeping up her spine. The healing counter for Sung Ja-In’s core Meridian had reached 11%—a number that gnawed at her as she tried to move faster.
With every strained step, Chloe kept an eye on Sung Ja-In. She had to, even though she wanted nothing more than to help Kazue. The Don’s brutal assault on them had left deep marks, and his relentless teleportation made it impossible to predict his next move. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time.
On the other side of the battlefield, the fight between Sung Ja-In and Katya was reaching its crescendo. The man's teleportation was still on cooldown, and his Ki was locked, forcing him into a battle of pure physical prowess. His experience shone through, his movements sharp and precise, even though his body bore the marks of the previous onslaughts. Every punch, every kick was delivered with the cold, ruthless efficiency of someone who had honed their skills over countless battles.
Katya, by contrast, was a tempest of fury, her emotions driving her to fight back with everything she had left. Her scythe, once an extension of her own will, now seemed to reflect the rage that fueled her every swing. She slashed at Sung Ja-In with terrifying speed, the blade cutting through the air with a shrieking whine. The Don dodged effortlessly at some of them, his movements almost too fast to follow. Despite the damage to his body, he moved like a flash, never faltering, always a step ahead.
Each time Katya attacked, her scythe was blocked or avoided, and each time Sung struck, Katya barely managed to deflect or dodge in time. His footwork was flawless, finding purchase even in the unstable swamp. He was wearing her down, forcing her to defend against blow after blow, each one pushing her further toward exhaustion. Her breaths grew ragged, her movements sluggish, but her determination never wavered.
Sung’s strikes came like thunder. He kicked Katya in the ribs, the force of the impact sending her stumbling backward. Pain flared, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it. Her arms were beginning to feel like lead, the weight of her scythe unbearable with each swing. Still, she pressed forward. The blood rushing to her head only fueled her, and despite her exhaustion, she felt the surge of adrenaline that kept her fighting.
But Sung was relentless. His fists and feet moved with the precision of a machine, each strike landing with deadly force. Katya’s defenses were crumbling, the scythe barely keeping up with his calculated assault. She managed to land a few glancing hits, but it was clear that Sung had the upper hand. With every exchange, Katya’s will seemed to be weakening, and she could feel her consciousness slipping, the edges of her vision blurring.
She knew her body was failing her. Her arms were sore, her side was bruised from where his enemy’s kick had connected, and her head felt like it was swimming in a fog. But she refused to give up. She couldn’t. Not when Kazue was lying there, broken and vulnerable. Not when everything was at stake.
In one last, desperate bid, Katya threw herself at Sung, abandoning all defense. His fist came toward her with terrifying speed, but she didn’t flinch. It connected with her shoulder, and she felt the bone crack beneath the force. Her body screamed in agony, but she ignored it. With everything she had left, she surged forward, her scythe slashing through the air in a final, brutal arc.
The Don’s eyes widened as he realized what she was doing. He tried to move, but Katya was too close now. Her blade missed his neck by a hair’s breadth, the edge only grazing his skin. But that was enough. The slash cut through his right eye, the force of the blow leaving him blind in that eye. His vision was gone, darkness flooding in, and he screamed in pain.
But the damage was done. Katya’s strength faltered and her scythe slipped from her hands as she collapsed forward, her body giving out completely. Sung Ja-In barely had time to react as she fell, his hand reaching out to catch her. His grip closed around her head, lifting her limp body as he stared down at her. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body still aching from their brutal exchange.
“You think you’ve won?”
Sung’s voice was a low hiss, filled with venom. He gripped Katya’s head tightly, lifting her higher, his fingers digging into her skull. The rage in his eyes was unmistakable.
“You’ve failed.”
As he held her in his grasp, Sung’s other hand wiped the blood from his ruined eye. He could still see, but it was clouded, his vision distorted by the pain and the loss. Still, he couldn’t afford to show any weakness. Not now. Not when they had pushed him to this point.
Katya’s body hung lifeless in his grasp, her head flopping forward, but the man wasn’t done. He glared at her, hatred burning in his chest. His heart thudded painfully, and his mind swirled with the chaos of battle. He looked down at the woman who had dared to challenge him and felt a sick sense of satisfaction.
Sung Ja-In's grip tightened around the girl's head, the sensation of her skull beneath his fingers sending a sick thrill through him. He was ready to crush it, to end this fight once and for all. The feeling of her life slipping away in his iron grip seemed almost too easy. But just as his strength started to shift, preparing for the fatal squeeze, a sudden force struck him from the right side, hitting him so hard that he barely registered the attack.
The blow was devastating—so brutal that he was sent flying a few meters, his body crashing to the ground in a heap. His grip on Katya loosened, and she fell free, her limp form no longer in his control. The sudden force of the strike left him dazed, his senses scrambled, and the confusion surged through his mind... What just happened? His world spun for a moment as he tried to regain his bearings. The pain in his right eye blurred his vision further, and it was impossible to discern his attacker at first. His heart raced, not from the physical shock, but from the sudden uncertainty that gripped him.
He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze from his mind. Slowly, his vision focused, and he saw a figure standing before him on the spot where he previously was standing. It was Gregor—except... he was different. His body radiated something dark, something unnatural.
Gregor’s aura had transformed into a dense, oppressive presence, cloaking him in a swirling black miasma. It clung to his skin, a sinister fog that wrapped itself around him like a living entity. But the most unsettling thing was what was on his back—two massive, grotesque shapes emerged from his body, looking like liquid, devilish wings made of that dark energy. They rippled and twisted, constantly shifting, as if they had a mind of their own. It was almost as if Gregor's very soul had been warped, transformed into something monstrous.
Sung's gaze flickered to the man's face just to see the horrible spectacle. Half of it was covered in the same dark miasma, like a mask of decay and destruction. His remaining exposed skin was paler than before, but the eye that remained visible stood out, glowing with an eerie yellow hue. It was large, its iris stretched wide, predatory and hungry. The malice in that single eye was palpable, so much that and it sent a shiver down Sung’s spine.
Gregor wasn’t just Gregor anymore.
This was the [Infernal Karma Manifestation], a skill so dark and twisted that the Don could feel its weight even from a distance. He had seen it once before when Bai Huolong had used it—though this version was even more malignant, more corrupted. The black miasma that poured off Gregor was so thick, that it seemed to choke the air around him, heavy with the weight of the souls it contained. The very ground beneath the man seemed to recoil, the earth trembling as though it recognized the power he wielded.
Sung’s confusion deepened. He felt the full force of the power emanating from Gregor, but what stood out more than anything was the pain and the torment etched into the soldier’s face. His features were tight and strained with an expression of distress, and his eyes flickered with a hint of something darker. The anguish was clear.
Every soul that Gregor had presumably claimed—more than 5000—was now in his mind, their tormented screams echoing within him. Their final moments, the anguish they experienced before death, played on a loop in his ears, over and over, gnawing at his sanity. The power he wielded came at an unbearable cost. The souls were relentless, their suffering torturing him, and Sung could see the toll it was taking on his former comrade.
Yet despite the torment, Gregor’s resolve remained. His face hardened, and his grip on the power only tightened. He was fixed on finishing the fight. He had to. Sung understood that much. The pain was excruciating, but Gregor was willing to use the cursed power to end the battle. As quickly as possible.
His body trembled, but not from weakness—his legs were planted firmly, his stance solid as if the weight of the souls could no longer break him. Every inch of his being was suffused with malevolence, a force that Sung could feel as it surged toward him. The miasma from Gregor's wings stretched outward, filling the space between them, thick and heavy, pressing against the air.
Sung struggled to rise, the sense of confusion still lingering in his mind as he attempted to shake off the daze from the strike. He wiped the blood from his ruined eye, but when he looked up, Gregor was already advancing, his figure more ominous with every step. The power of the skill manifestation was undeniable. It didn’t just give the user strength—it twisted him, corrupted him, bound him to the wailing souls of the damned.
Then it happened, Gregor disappeared from Sung's view. He had no time to react or brace himself before the soldier reappeared before him, a blur of motion and malice. The shift in Gregor’s presence was immediate, like the air itself bending to the weight of his power, and then came the first strike. Sung barely had time to bring his arms up to block, but the force was enough to rattle his bones and send shockwaves through his body.
Sung's body tensed, his instincts kicking into overdrive, but it wasn't enough. Gregor’s attack came with relentless precision. Each strike was an explosion of raw power and ferocity, an almost inhuman strength behind every movement. The Don blocked one blow, only to feel the impact of another slam into his side, a punch that left his ribs creaking and the breath knocked from his lungs. He staggered back, but Gregor was on him again, relentless, his eyes burning with a fury that seemed to come from the very depths of hell.
Sung Ja-In could feel the brutal shift in the pace of the battle as the soldier's strength became something entirely foreign, something far beyond what he'd ever encountered. The power in his blows wasn’t just raw muscle; it was something darker, something unnatural, like the weight of thousands of lives was packed into every strike. It was almost as if an entire army was battering the Don. Each punch, each kick… It carried the accumulated force of more than five thousand souls, their collective anguish fueling the man’s fury.
His former fellow Don, Bai Huolong, had once wielded a similar ability, but his version had always been a weaker, more limited form, a crude imitation of the power that now surged within Gregor. The skill he had used was potent, yes, but it never reached this level of malevolent force. Sung had witnessed it in action before—Bai Huolong’s strength surged with the fury of the souls he had absorbed, but it always had boundaries. Now, in his opponent, that same skill had evolved, taken on a malignant form, like a monstrous incarnation of vengeance and torment.
With every blow, the Don could feel the power build, not just from the man’s own body, but from the souls themselves, screaming through the strikes. He recognized it now, the very essence of it, flooding his opponent with the anger and sorrow of the dead. The soldier was no longer just a man; he was a vessel of endless rage, each punch backed by the weight of more lives than Sung could comprehend. The skill had mutated, had grown into something more dangerous, something far beyond its original limits.
Sung Ja-In’s thoughts were a blur of realization, a creeping sense of dread sinking into his chest. His mind flashed back to Bai Huolong’s fights, how he had always struggled with the limits of the power, the toll it took on him, and yet it still had been fearsome. But this—this was something else entirely.
Gregor’s blows slammed into him again, and the impact sent a jolt of pain through his body. He tried to twist his torso to avoid a strike aimed at his head, but the speed at which the man moved left him with barely a chance. A fist drove into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to stagger backward. Each hit now felt like it was cracking through his bones, the relentless power sapping his strength.
It was overwhelming. Sung could feel the difference in the weight of each blow—like the very souls within the soldier were piling on more and more force with every strike, suffocating him, drowning him in an ocean of rage.
But the Don was no slouch. His body also moved with precision, his own strikes sharp and deadly, each one a calculated attempt to find an opening. He countered with a sweep of his leg, knocking Gregor off balance, but it was only for a moment before the man regained his footing and retaliated. Sung blocked another blow aimed at his face, but the force of it rattled his skull, and he staggered back, disoriented. He was fast, but not fast enough to keep up with Gregor’s newfound speed. Every strike felt heavier, and he could feel his strength draining as he struggled to maintain control.
Gregor’s blows came without mercy. He threw a series of attacks that Sung had to block with everything he had—punches aimed at his chest, elbows slamming down on his shoulder, kicks that came at him from every angle. Each one left a mark, and with every blow, the Don could feel his stamina wearing thin. His body had already been pushed to its limits, the injuries from earlier fights adding to the toll. His vision was blurred from the loss of his right eye, the pain in his head a constant throb.
And the worst part? The pain from Katya’s wounds. Sung could feel the slow, seeping burn of the [Incurable Wound] effect coursing through him. His cuts and bruises refused to heal, the injuries refusing to close or mend no matter what he did. Every movement was slowed by the pain, his muscles stiff and aching. The even worst of it was the wound to his right eye—his ability to see was diminished, and it made every move Gregor made harder to predict. The constant agony of his injuries and the relentless assault from his enemy was too much for him to keep up with.
As Gregor’s fist connected with the Don’s jaw, sending him crashing into the ground, Sung could feel his resolve faltering. His breath was labored, his body battered and bloodied, and for a moment, he just lay there, struggling to push through the pain. Gregor loomed above him, his shadow casting over him like an executioner’s blade.
Sung's body trembled as he forced himself upright, his vision blurred and his senses rattled. Every part of him screamed in agony, but beneath the pain, there was a simmering fire—a determination not to be extinguished. Gregor’s overwhelming strength was undeniable, and yet the Don refused to acknowledge defeat. The power flowing through his opponent was almost otherworldly, like a tidal wave that had no end, no mercy. But for all the crushing force, it made everything feel like a cruel joke. There was no honor in this fight anymore. This wasn’t a battle between two warriors; it had become a massacre, and Sung was merely a target to be obliterated.
The weight of the souls fueling Gregor pressed down on him with a suffocating intensity, a constant reminder that he was fighting against something far beyond the realm of normal human struggle. The tormented echoes of the lives lost by the soldier’s hand seemed to reverberate with every punch, and with each hit, the Don felt himself being ground down further into the dirt. The world around him seemed to close in, as if he were shrinking under the force of Gregor’s onslaught.
But then, in the heat of the moment, a shift occurred. As Gregor’s fist came down on him again, a surge of energy rippled through Sung's body, flickering like a spark reigniting a long-dormant fire. It was barely a trickle at first—just a flicker of Ki—but it was enough. With a reflex born from centuries of honed skill, the Don caught the punch mid-air, his hand closing around Gregor's fist, his fingers tightening in defiance. The faintest pulse of Ki radiated from his palm, just enough to allow him to stop the massive punch from crushing him.
It was the worst possible scenario. The soldier had been on the edge of victory, but Sung Ja-In's sudden surge of power threw everything into disarray. His Meridian was still healing, sluggish and slow, but it was healing nonetheless, and that tiny spark of Ki was all he needed to begin turning the tide.
Sung grinned, a deep, feral laugh escaping his lips despite the agony wracking his body. His eyes, filled with defiance, locked onto Gregor as he gathered himself to strike back. With the flicker of Ki now coursing through him, the Don’s movements became sharper, more precise. He straightened, his battered form suddenly revitalized, as though the very essence of combat had surged back into his being.
With a roar, Sung Ja-In swung a punch that reverberated through the air, the force behind it amplified by the Ki that now coursed through his veins. But Gregor, never one to back down, threw his own fist in retaliation. The two punches collided with explosive force, a shockwave of energy erupting between them, sending debris flying in every direction, tearing at the ground beneath their feet. The air itself seemed to ripple with the sheer intensity of the impact.
Gregor staggered back, his face a mixture of disbelief and fury. He had felt the raw power of Sung’s punch, and the realization hit him like a cold wave—his advantage was gone. The soldier's breath quickened as he processed the change on the battlefield, his eyes narrowing in frustration. He had tried to end this, tried to crush his enemy with every ounce of his power, but it hadn’t been enough. The shift was palpable, and Gregor knew it now: soon, Sung would recover fully, his Ki would flow freely once more, and with it, the battle would be over.
Gregor's thoughts raced as he took a step back, his chest heaving. He had pushed himself to the brink, but it wasn't enough… Sung Ja-In was far from defeated, and the battle was far from finished.