The walls of the buildings on both sides and even the roof tiles along the eaves shattered and broke, scattering fragments everywhere in wild confusion. No matter how much inner energy had been poured into that secret art, it was still an absurdly violent sword art. Was this the hidden trump card Fiend Butcher had kept in reserve?
Its power was terrifying, but Do Gwang-il’s back remained firm. Fiend Butcher, standing beyond him, was also unharmed. Do Gwang-il quietly sheathed his sword and looked at his right hand.
Seeing that his sleeve had been torn open by about a handspan, he murmured indifferently.
“......You have surpassed your master.”
At those words, whether admiration or a sigh, Fiend Butcher’s slightly drooping eyes twitched. Even though he had surpassed his master, he still had not defeated Do Gwang-il. As if enraged by that fact, his piercing stare was sharp enough to stab.
His aura looked ready to decide life and death. I did not know what circumstances lay behind all this, but it seemed Do Gwang-il could no longer afford to hold back. Exchanging glances with Tang Hye-seo, I hurriedly took a few more steps back.