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Kwang-Soo thought Se-Hoon was exaggerating.
Not only was the fragment of Celestial Night too small to be a sparring weapon, but he also just couldn’t imagine what kind of benefit could come from using it.
Well, if he’s telling me to, there must be a reason.
Unless it was all just a prank, there had to be more. With that thought, Kwang-Soo stepped onto the training ground.
“Here!”
Se-Hoon’s fist struck fiercely, driving into Kwang-Soo’s body.
Crack! Thud! Crunch!
Every time Kwang-Soo blinked, the sky and ground had flipped. But no matter the direction, fists, feet, elbows, and knees rained down and pounded his body. Yet even though the pain was as piercing as an awl shredding his mind, Kwang-Soo clenched his teeth and attempted to retaliate.
Whoosh!
But alas, there was no way wielding a splinter no bigger than a fingertip would achieve anything.
Boom!!!
His body, which had been sent flying nonstop in every direction, was finally slammed violently into the center of the training grounds.
“Phew. How was that?” Se-Hoon nonchalantly remarked, landing softly nearby.
“…”
Instead of answering, Kwang-Soo remained sprawled on the ground as he checked his condition: his bones and muscles were thoroughly shattered, but his vital organs and mana circuits—anything that could be called a weak point—remained pristine for some reason.
Still examining his body, which resembled cracked glass, Kwang-Soo croaked out, “If you had complaints… you could’ve just said so… you bastard.”
Maybe Se-Hoon had a lot built up against him, but shoving...
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