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Just as Yoost had feared, Mammon fought as if the battle were merely a game. He had imposed greater restrictions than usual, limiting himself to only twenty percent of his strength. Despite this, Kim Ki-Rok darted and weaved, narrowly avoiding certain death.
"Ugh. Damn it..."
No matter how accustomed he was to pain, it still hurt. Kim Ki-Rok glanced down at his left arm. The agony radiating from the limp limb was far worse than he'd anticipated. It wasn't dislocated—it was clearly broken. Nonetheless, Kim Ki-Rok spat the dirt from his mouth and steadied himself again.
"I'm impressed," Mammon remarked, openly intrigued.
"Hahaha, is that so?"
Is that so? I feel like I'm dying.
Kim Ki-Rok barely kept himself from spitting out the curse on his tongue.
"You've overcome your lack of strength through keen observation."
"Ha, haha... cough!"
It appeared his intense training had yielded results. He had at least managed to clear the first hurdle, though that was only the beginning. There were several critical objectives Kim Ki-Rok needed to achieve during this battle.
The first was to draw Mammon's attention. He couldn't merely dodge or defend throughout the duel; he had to launch counterattacks, no matter how reckless. Mammon needed to see...
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