Beyond the Eternity

Superbia wore a sadistic smile, savoring the sight of Kim Jakga's pathetic state.

She reveled in it. The sight of his humiliation, the expression of the fallen, filled her with such joy and satisfaction that it became her mission and duty to overwhelm her opponent, especially one as arrogant as him, in such a humiliating manner and make him prostrate before her.

It was unknown when she developed such a bad habit, but her creator saw no problem with it.

She approached the broken form of Kim Jakga, halting just a few paces away from his battered body.

She had plans for him—to break him, to make him her slave, her property, her plaything. She could do whatever she wanted with him. But first, she wanted to hear him beg, to hear him submit in exchange for the chance to save his pathetic life.

Once that was done, her duty and mission in this round would be complete.

Kim Jakga barely lifted his head. His clothes were soaked with crimson, his blood pouring out from his wounds like a steady stream. Even so, the glint in his eyes did not disappear.

Her lips curled as she spoke, savoring the moment.

"Well, aren't you going to beg? Are you truly okay with dying like this? You put up a good enough performance to entertain me for a moment, but it's all over. Do you hear me? It's... G A M E O V E R. So why don't you be a good boy—"

Before she could finish her sentence, a harsh, raspy voice interrupted her.

"Fuck... Off."

Superbia blinked, startled by the defiant words. She had expected the usual cries for mercy, the desperate pleas of a defeated man. But instead, Kim Jakga, in the face of his imminent death, still found the strength to curse her.

The audacity.

"Eh? What did you say? Can you say that a little louder so that this great me can hear it?" she asked with evident mockery.

Kim Jakga gritted his teeth. Even so, a pained smirk crossed his face, betraying the excruciating pain and agony his body was experiencing.

He forced out the words out of his damaged throat.

"I said, fuck off, you stinky bitch!"

Superbia was stunned. She obviously wasn't expecting such an outcome.

What was this? She tilted her head slightly, as if she had just heard something unbelievable.

He was defiant even at this moment. He was in the throes of death, his body ravaged by countless wounds, yet he still found the will to curse her to her face.

She had seen many men break, seen countless enemies beg for mercy, their pride crushed beneath the weight of their imminent demise.

But this was certainly different.

She understood that not every man was weak enough to grovel at the feet of their conqueror, pleading for mercy to live another day. It was like a man refusing to submit, even with a gun pointed at his head, or a fallen knight refusing to bow before the mercy of their opponent's blade. It was about holding onto pride and dignity, even if it meant death.

She understood that much, but what truly struck her was the look in his eyes.

Despite his bloodied, broken form, he looked at her with eyes that betrayed no sign of defeat. And it wasn't just defiance she saw in them, something more profoundly emerged from those eyes.

It was pity...! He pitied her very existence!

For someone to feel pity for their enemy, even as death loomed, was no simple act of defiance. It crossed into the realm of disdain, a quiet, unspoken judgment of her very being.

That was the pinnacle of pride. The pride of a king.

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And that, to Superbia, was both fascinating and insulting. No, It was an insult to what she stood as she was the representation on pride.

How could she allow such an affront to go unpunished?

A rage unlike anything she had ever known erupted from the abyss, surging through her veins and twisting her insides into a violent tempest.

"You bastard, how dare you..." she snarled. Her canines bared like a wild beast's, she spat, "HOW DARE YOU LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE EYES, YOU FOOLISH CHILD OF MAN?!"

Consumed by uncontrollable fury, Superbia kicked Kim Jakga across the face, sending him sprawling further into the pool of his own blood. The crimson sea spread beneath him, staining the ground with his life essence. Without a second thought, she began to stomp mercilessly on his battered body.

"DAMN YOU, DAMN YOU, DAMN YOU!! YOU DARE LOOK DOWN ON ME, THE ELDEST FLAME OF THE SISTERS OF DARKNESS, THE MOST BELOVED DAUGHTER OF THE WITCH OF DARKNESS, THE REPRESENTATIVE OF THE SIN OF PRIDE! YOU FOOLISH, INSIGNIFICANT WRETCH! I SWEAR ON THE CORE OF MY EXISTENCE, YOUR DEATH WILL BE A SUFFERING UNMATCHED! I WILL ERASE YOU SO COMPLETELY THAT EVEN THE IDEA OF YOUR SOUL REINCARNATING WILL BE NOTHING BUT A MOCKERY!!!"

Her words rang out like thunder, venomous and filled with searing malice.

She stomped and stomped, driven by a hatred so intense it bordered on madness. Blood splattered with each brutal strike, staining her legs and the hem of her suit, but she didn't care.

How long did this continue?

Eventually, her foot halted mid-stomp, and she staggered slightly, her breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps. Her feet ached, with sharp pangs of discomfort spreading up her legs.

The battered body of Kim Jakga had become motionless and utterly unrecognizable beneath the crimson carnage. Perhaps he had already sucummbled to his gruesome injuries and passed away.

But Superbia wasn't having it.

Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists, with her nails digging into her palms. She was nowhere satisfied with this level of destruction.

It was too simple, too mundane.

No, she needed to do more, to utterly obliterate the very concept of his existence. Amidst her unresolved fury, a single thought surfaced, and she realized she had the power to achieve the level of destruction she craved.

Superbia's eyes gleamed with a sinister light as she took a deliberate step back, then opened her palm.

A solitary dark flame flickered to life atop her white hand.

It was the demonic flame.

Without hesitation, Superbia's flame entered Kim Jakga through the mouth, quickly consuming the inside of his body.

His body became increasingly hot. Burning. Boiling. His skull churned like an oil container.

There was no scream. Under the intense flames, his throat was scorched, severing all his circuits. Even if he somehow survived, it would be impossible for him to utter a single word at all.

There was no mercy. There was only rampage. There was only carnage. And there was only hell.

The flames burst out from every opening and the abdomen shattered, splitting him in two. Dark flames continued to surge out, and Kim Jakga's upper body shot upward like a rocket.

†

†

What was the weakness of a close-combat fighter?

Naturally, it was dealing with long-range attacks or weapons with extended reach. Yoo Rin had just learned and experienced that harsh truth.

Swish!

Yoo Rin swiftly leaped aside as the deadly weapon whistled through the air, striking the ground and ripping it apart like a blade slicing through cloth, leaving a deep gash in the earth.

It was a whip.

That whip carried enough force to split the ground in two. Had it struck its intended target, it would have shredded her skin with ease.

But Yoo Rin wasn't concerned about the whip itself. It was the wielder that posed the real threat.

Her opponent manipulated the whip with precise control, drawing it back to herself without a scratch.

A white woman.

Her shoulder-length hair was silver, and an eye patch with a circular target mark covered one of her eyes. She wore a form-fitting black shirt that accentuated her figure and cleavage.

She could certainly be called a beauty, but her blood-red left eye evoked the bloodlust of a wild predator.

A Hunter.

Her name was Ira, the Flame of Wrath, and the Third Oldest Sister.

Yoo Rin frowned.

'How am I supposed to fight that person when I can't even get close? Who the hell uses a whip in a fight anyways?'

Her question went unanswered. The only response she received was the sharp crack of the whip slicing through the air, its tip racing toward her face as if aiming to kiss her nose.

"Ahh!"

Yoo Rin barely managed to dodge, but not before the whip grazed her cheek, leaving a thin, stinging line of blood.

'Argh! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!'

Her cheek felt like it was on fire. The sensation was an illusion, but the intense heat generated by the whip as it traveled through the air left a burning sting that made it feel all too real.

And this wasn't just any ordinary whip too.

It was a weapon wielded by none other than the Sister of Wrath.

The thing about whips was their flexibility. They moved through the air in an unpredictable, almost serpentine manner, making it exceptionally difficult for the opponent to dodge or evade.

Would I be able to dodge if I moved forward?

Would I be able to dodge if I retracted backwards?

Would I be able to dodge if I moved to the side instead?

Those were the kinds of questions that sent one's mind into disarray, and Yoo Rin found herself in a similar situation.

Of course, the flexibility of the whip became irrelevant if one manages to close the distance and enter the wielder's personal space.

In real-life scenarios, the whip offered little to no defensive capabilities, limiting its use strictly to offense.

If the wielder didn't have an additional weapon, such as a sword, to defend themselves when an opponent entered their space, they would be left completely vulnerable.

From Yoo Rin's observations, Ira didn't seemed to be carrying any additional or hidden weapons.

She only used the whip.

'But it's not like I can easily close the distance.'

The distance between her and the b*tch was 30 metres.

The moment she attempted to initiate an attack, it would be overpowered by the whip. Even so, if she wanted to do more than stand there and take hits like a punching bag, she had to find a way to close the distance.

She took a deep breath.

The first step to controlling the battlefield was Observation.

If you could observe every movement, detail, and phenomenon unfolding on the battlefield, you could anticipate and counter every move, becoming an unshakable mountain.

Yoo Rin concentrated, and in an instant, the flow of time around her seemed to slow to a crawl. Everything sharpened, revealing countless details she hadn't noticed before.

For instance, the whip's previously unpredictable movements now had a discernible pattern. The moment it was swung, it slithered through the air like a serpent, accompanied by a faint flash and a silent 'bang'.

'I can see It now!'

She could see the movement of the whip she previously couldn't see before.

She dodged the serpent-like whip of light that flew directly at her face and immediately stepped forward.

Taht!

In a single leap, the distance between her and her opponent halved, closing by roughly 15 meters.

The whip lashed out again, its second strike grazing past her head by the barest margin.

The Sister of Wrath reacted instantly, withdrawing the whip after her initial attack and seamlessly following up with another. Yoo Rin couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for the woman's precision and speed.

Still, she pressed on, taking another step forward.

Taht!

The distance between them disappeared in the next instance.

Kwa-du-duk!

Yoo Rin clenched her gauntlet-covered fist tightly, channeling all the strength she could muster into her fist.

'Now I won't let you escape.'

At this distance, she wouldn't miss. One solid hit would he enough to guarantee her victory.

Without hesitation, Yoo Rin punched forward. Her gauntlet-covered fist crossed the air with speed of a bullet. It was a devastating blow, meant to crash the Sister's face in one hit.

A solid strike.

Or, at least, It was supposed to be.

".....?!"

Yoo Rin's body froze, locked in place by a shock and pain unlike anything she'd ever experienced.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The sister had swung the whip for her second strike, but she hadn't retracted it. As Yoo Rin's fist flew toward her target, the sister simply yanked the whip back, striking her with brutal force.

The impact tore through Yoo Rin's back, rupturing her body as an excruciating pain overwhelmed her.

But Ira didn't stop there. She took it a step further.

Without giving her opponent a moment to process the first blow, Ira struck Yoo Rin's throat with a "phoenix eye strike," silencing her with a sharp pressure to the windpipe. She then slammed her palm into Yoo Rin's abdomen, sending the air from her lungs in a violent expulsion. In one fluid motion, Ira followed up with a powerful roundhouse kick that struck Yoo Rin's head, sending it crashing into the wall.

Kwa-boom!!!

The back of Yoo Rin's skull hit the concrete with a sickening impact, leaving a massive dent in the wall. Blood trickled down from the open wound on her head, and her body crumpled to the floor, motionless.

Whether she was dead or alive remained uncertain.