Perhaps someone saw, perhaps it was a scene that should have been witnessed and etched into memory.
But the Shaolin monks did not witness Beok Gye's majestic figure.
The resounding Buddhist prayers echoed, and the Shaolin monks unleashed their fists one after another.
*Thunk! Thud! Thud!*
Unfolding the will of the Buddha, they trained diligently to save those in pain and to block those who reached out to harm Beok Jeong and Beok Gye.
*Kwaaaah!*
"You shall not pass!"
The noble and resolute voice was no longer. It was a cry filled with desperation, a yearning for something unattainable.
"Out of the way, you scoundrels! Stand aside!"
From all directions, swords flew incessantly.
*Squeak* *Squeak* *Squeak*
No matter how devotedly they had trained throughout their lives, the entangled figures could not block all the swords flying from all directions.
One Shaolin monk's body was mercilessly pierced by the sharp blades in an instant, staining him crimson.
"You said you couldn't go!"
*Kwaaaah!*
Yet, amidst the flowing blood, the Shaolin monks captured and subdued the attackers.
Jeok Ho, who had arrived late, grimaced.
The entangled Shaolin monks were holding back those chasing Beok Jeong. Despite knives stabbing into their backs, they held onto the ankles of those trying to reach Beok Jeong.
"Amitabha!"
Even for those indifferent to the divine, the Buddhist prayer uttered by those risking their lives carried a different resonance.
Death is fearsome for everyone.
Yet they accepted it. If it was an unavoidable death, then let it be for the sake of preserving internal qi.
Wasn't the lotus blooming in the mud a symbol of the unattainable?
"I cannot leave until I die."
Amidst spewing blood from his mouth, a Shaolin monk reached out to grab the advancing enemy. Though they exhibited a resilience akin to that of the Myriad Man House, it was clearly different from the madness shown by the evil sects.
"...Playing dead, huh."
Jeok Ho grinded his teeth.
Far away, the figures of Beok Gye and Beok Jeong, retreating, were clearly visible.
They couldn't afford to let them slip away. The outcome was already decided. Beok Jeong's life would further solidify their victory. And it would become a symbol for the Four Tyrants Alliance, the Myriad Man House, and eventually elevate the name of the Tyrant to the most prominent place under heaven.
"We won't let you escape!"
*Kwaaaah!*
Jeok Ho kicked the ground and leaped over the entangled figures. No, he attempted to.
But in that moment, dozens of fierce qi streams surged toward him. It burst forth like a trap, leaving Jeok Ho no choice but to wield his saber in response.
*Chaaaah!*
The flying authority was torn apart by the fierce qi. It was just a moment, but its aftermath was enough to momentarily halt Jeok Ho's advance. Just a moment more to prevent him from moving forward.
*Thunk!*
Jeok Ho bit his lips.
They were in a position to block attacks coming from all directions. Amidst their rising anger, Jeok Ho momentarily felt his bones go numb.
"I...!"
But there was no time to lose here. He had to chase after those two. If he let them slip away now, everything would become his mistake.
As Jeok Ho kicked the ground again, a Shaolin monk, entangled with the evil sects, leaped toward him with unwavering determination.
"Aaah!"
From his outstretched hand, fiercely glowing palm shadows shot out. Jeok Ho, who observed the scene with cold eyes, swung his saber horizontally in response.
*Chaaaah!*
The enormous palm shadows split apart, slicing through the red Taoist and carving long lines into the Shaolin monk's body.
"Ah... Amita..."
Though the Shaolin monk's body weakened, he never stopped. Though he staggered as if he would collapse at any moment, he continued to walk step by step toward Jeok Ho.
*Thud.*
A gesture as weak as a child's punch landed on Jeok Ho's chest.
Was Beok Jeong truly worth all this? Just because he was an abbot?
"...Is an abbot like you really that valuable to them?"
He asked, not expecting an answer.
But an unexpected response flowed from the lips of the struggling Shaolin monk.
"Not... different..."
"What?"
A gentle aura seeped into his face, despite the agony he was in.
"That... no matter who it is, even if they're not an abbot... my life... has value..."
Jeok Ho's face contorted.
*Squeak*
The sword swiftly severed the opponent's neck.
The headless body slumped to the ground.
Perhaps it was not out of hatred, but a momentary act of mercy. Jeok Ho, now with a hardened body and cold gaze, looked up at the Shaolin monks.
"No matter who... it is."
The Shaolin monks' gaze was different. Having witnessed countless deaths and traversed through life and death situations, they were filled with something incomprehensible even to Jeok Ho.
"Is it true that a top leader, even if they're despicable, doesn't rot all the way down?"
Of course, Jeok Ho couldn't empathize. However, even if he couldn't empathize, he could still show respect.
Perhaps they wouldn't let Jeok Ho pass until their lives were gone. No, maybe even after their lives were gone.
"If... that's what you wish..."
Jeok Ho tightly gripped his sword.
"Grant your wish."
❀ ❀ ❀
Clang!
The sword clashed against the hand.
Jongli Hyeong's sword technique, the Demon Subduing Sword Technique, was truly remarkable. It was swift, agile, and intricate.
Moreover, given the circumstances, his sword was sharper than ever. Fierce attacks surged repeatedly, aiming to exploit any gaps in the enemy's defense.
But... in truth, Jongli Hyeong was despairing in this moment. It felt suffocating, like swinging a sword towards the ocean.
"This, this is..."
Dozens, or perhaps hundreds of hands.
Hundreds of hands, each taking on a different form, overwhelmed him. It was as if hundreds of people were reaching out to him simultaneously.
"Thousand Faces Hand!"
The secret technique of Thousand Faces Scholar Dam Yeohae. Though Jongli Hyeong held the title of the First Palm of the Underhanded Gate, facing off against the leader of the evil sects, Thousand Faces Scholar Dam Yeohae, brought him endless despair.
Of course, he might still win.
Although his opponent was Thousand Faces Scholar Dam Yeohae, the essence of the cave sect was embodied in Jongli Hyeong's sword technique, which was by no means inferior to Dam Yeohae's palm technique.
Yes, he might still win.
If only he had the time to patiently unravel each dazzling hand technique.
But what Jongli Hyeong lacked at the moment was precisely that "time." Surrounded on all sides, with enemies closing in at every moment, he had no leisure to calmly dismantle the opponent's martial arts.
"Huaaaah!"
Jongli Hyeong fiercely thrust his sword.
If it connected, it would push the opponent back and leave a powerful blow. But the opponent's hands never allowed his sword qi to find its mark.
Watching the hands flowing around him, Jongli Hyeong's eyes filled with deepening despair.
"Out of the way!"
Clang!
Once again, his sword clashed with the reaching hands. This time, the palm shadows, each taking on different forms, intertwined with his sword like living hands.
"You seem rushed."
"But I'm in no hurry."
With the face of a young man, Thousand Faces Scholar sneered. The mismatch between his youthful face and the elderly voice, without a single wrinkle, created a discomforting sensation for Jongli Hyeong. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Wouldn't it be better for the sect leader to enjoy this leisurely?"
"Aaaah!"
Before the words of Thousand Faces Scholar could even finish, screams resembling those of dying souls pierced Jongli Hyeong's ears.
"Aaaah!"
Jongli Hyeong cried out in a similar voice, shaking his sword violently.
"Hahaha!"
The loud laughter of Thousand Faces Scholar overlapped with the screams. Jongli Hyeong's eyes quickly turned bloodshot.
'Why!'
How did he end up in this situation? He hadn't committed any mistakes! Even if he had made a mistake, there was no reason for him to be in such a miserable state, was there? It was unfair. He felt unjust.
"Out of the way! I said, out of the way!"
"Tsk, tsk. Pitiful indeed. Even the top leader of a sect has no backbone."
Open mockery poured down.
A feeling of despair, humiliation, and indescribable emotions swept over Jongli Hyeong.
His gaze inadvertently turned sideways. To see the mastermind behind this hellish ordeal with his own eyes.
And Jongli Hyeong widened his eyes greatly.
"He..."
Amidst the intense battle, knowing that even a momentary lapse could cost him his life, he lost his composure.
He had no choice.
Beok Jeong was escaping. Carried on Beok Gye's back.
"Defeated...?"
That Beok Jeong?
No, no. That's not important.
What's important right now isn't the fact that Beok Jeong lost to Jang Ilso, but that he's escaping while leaving everyone behind.
After causing so many deaths, not only to the Cave and Peng Family but even to the Shaolin monks who are struggling in this hellish situation.
"Alone? Escaping and leaving us all behind? Turning the situation into this?"
As the situation became clear, rage surged through his veins. Heat rose throughout his body, and unbearable anger gripped him.
"Surviving alone?"
*Bang!*
Driven by anger, his sword pierced through the chaos, but Thousand Faces Scholar's hand struck Jongli Hyeong's chest.
Jongli Hyeong coughed up blood and stumbled backward. But his eyes, filled with flashing hatred, didn't turn toward Thousand Faces Scholar.
"The law..."
An unbearable rage burst forth from Jongli Hyeong's belly.
"The lawwwoooorrrgggh!"
It was a desperate cry that shook the entire battlefield.
❀ ❀ ❀
A condescending gaze, devoid of any sympathy, pierced his skin.
Finally, a voice filled with authority and dignity flowed out.
"Any ruler should hold their own life most dear."
But rather than appearing authoritative, the voice felt strangely light.
Peng Yeob silently touched the sword stuck in his side. His hand was trembling weakly. It was impossible for him to grip the sword and pull it out.
And, in fact... even if he could grip and pull out the sword, it wouldn't change much. There was more than just this one sword stuck in his body.
"Perhaps you had the ability to lead a clan, but it seems you lacked the qualities to be a proper ruler."
"..."
"No matter how powerful a group may be, without a leader, they become disorganized. You should have fled rather than facing me. Even if it meant killing everyone here."
*Cough.*
A feeble cough escaped Peng Yeob's lips.
It might be true.
Looking at his current state, it seemed so. His entire body was pierced with weapons, and it wasn't proving Thousand Faces Scholar wrong.
"People often assign meaning to meaningless things. But a true ruler only values what's truly meaningful. It seems those Shaolin monks understand that fact."
"..."
"Not knowing that was the reason for your demise, you insignificant man."
A sneer escaped from Peng Yeob's lips.
"Value..."
As his vision blurred to the point of almost indistinguishability, darkness began to creep in from the edges. Gradually, the world started to darken.
In the midst of this, the last thing he saw was the young soldiers of the Peng Family who had managed to break through the enemy's encirclement.
"...Then, perhaps... I wasn't so bad."
The Palace Lord, looking down on Peng Yeob with disdain, furrowed his brows.
But Peng Yeob had already lost strength and lowered his head.
Thud.
Peng Yeob's body collapsed to the side. It was a dismal sight, with dozens of blades piercing his entire body.
For a moment, the Palace Lord silently watched the scene before snorting and turning away.
"A pitiful death."
The merciless voice echoed in the ears of the fallen Peng Yeob.
"Older brother..."
In the world tainted by darkness, the gaze of his brother looking at him resurfaced faintly.
"...I have no regrets."
In the chilling sensation of approaching death, Peng Yeob's empty pupils followed something unreachable.
"No... in fact..."
Peng Yeob's hand fell weakly.
Only his prized weapon, lying discarded, silently mourned his death.