Chapter 964:  You Didn't Let Me Down (Part 4)

"Kill them all!"

The Black Dragon King filled his inner energy and issued a command. Observing the Namgung Clan's inspectors fighting with renewed vigor after recovering from their previous injuries, his face contorted with rage.

"Cursed fools."

This exhaustion was the same as before, or perhaps even more severe. However, their expressions were entirely different. Unlike the past, where they were completely overwhelmed by the fear of death, their eyes were now filled with determination.

Nonetheless, it would be challenging to eliminate them completely, but it seemed inevitable that their losses would increase. Those who had embraced death were equally determined.

"You wretches."

The Black Dragon King muttered angrily, "What's the point of stalling when it's inevitable that it'll end like this? They acted all high and mighty, but in the end, didn't they just suffer losses?"

With an exasperated look, the Black Dragon King gazed at the Yangtze River.

In his slow-moving gaze, he spotted a small fragmentary boat making its way through the river. It seemed utterly relaxed, as if it had nothing to do with the gruesome scene of slaughter unfolding right before it.

"Damn it!"

What angered him the most was not the tangled web of events that Jang Ilso had spun. It was himself for not daring to question his actions, even when the situation had caused significant harm to Su Lo Chae's interests.

He growled lowly.

Certainly, their relationship wouldn't have been like this when he arrived at the Yangtze River. What had twisted things so dramatically?

The Black Dragon King's eyes were now filled with a fierce fury. His surging anger needed an outlet.

"Kill them all! All of them! Don't kill them easily! Make them feel the brutal cost of resisting the Su Lo Chae!"

His rage was unleashed upon the helpless Namgung sect members. With a sharp, honed blade, combined with his inner strength, the frail human bodies didn't stand a chance.

Squelch!

Their clothing, already soaked in blood and turned crimson, bore witness to the sight of fresh blood seeping into it once more. The sense of satisfaction was evident in the eyes of the enemy combatants as they witnessed this new pool of blood forming.

They twisted the embedded blades mercilessly. Regardless of how formidable one might be, when a harpoon was lodged into your bowels and it started to tear them apart, each one writhed in agony and fell to the ground.

One by one.

"Huh..."

The Namgung warrior pierced by a harpoon suddenly chuckled. As his blood-soaked mouth revealed, his sword cut through the air like a beam of light.

Swish!

The blade carved through the air, and at the moment when the blood-drenched neck of the enemy combatant fell into the void, the sound of a blade severing bone resonated dully.

Staggering as if about to fall, the martial artist with the harpoon still embedded in his body forced his trembling head upwards.

"Kuk!"

The one who had thrust the harpoon into him had now become a lifeless body, but the harpoon remained firmly lodged in his body. The Namgung warrior unhesitatingly swung his sword to sever the harpoon's shaft.

Clang!

The action of cutting off the shaft was no different from using a double-edged sword. While it didn't immediately hinder his movements, the remaining tip of the harpoon would dig deeper into him each time he moved.

But what did it matter?

In the end, all that awaited him was death. A few remaining harpoon tips wouldn't make any difference.

There were already two harpoons embedded in his body. His left hand had been severed, and from his deeply gashed shoulder, he could no longer even feel the pain. The most profound wound was on his thigh, where blood flowed like a river from severed veins.

But that didn't matter either.

"It won't be enough like this."

His eyes were filled with venom.

"Gaju suffered a far more gruesome fate!"

At least he wouldn't fall before at least ten more harpoons were embedded in his body. If life was nothing but death, he would take as many additional attacks as necessary, even if it meant one more for the person by his side and the one behind him.

Sweaaak!

Through his blurred vision, he glimpsed flying harpoons. Not one, but perhaps five?

It didn't matter if he knew. Regardless of how many harpoons there were, blocking them was impossible.

The Namgung warrior named Namgung Pyo wielded his sword, stepping on the path of the divine to repel the harpoons. It was an attack that disregarded defense. No matter how many harpoons pierced his body, he was determined to drag as many of these attackers to hell with him.

Clang! Clang! Swoosh!

The sounds of harpoons piercing flesh and swords cleaving through bodies echoed simultaneously.

"...."

Namgung Pyo felt the cold touch of metal piercing his neck, and his body gradually crumbled. The world darkened, and death approached. For a moment, he considered himself fortunate not to scream out in agony.

Thud.

The sensation of the ground beneath him became heavy and dim as he felt the world being veiled in darkness. Slowly, he stretched his body.

It felt peaceful.

Too peaceful, and he just wanted to rest this way, like this…

But at that moment, Namgung Pyo's eyes snapped open, and he gripped the sword he had partially let go. The enemies who thought he was already dead were stepping on him and moving forward.

Namgung Pyo lay on the ground, revealing his blood-soaked self, and swung his sword.

"Aaaaaargh!"

"You bastard!"

The unexpected attack that flew up from the ground caused the enemies to stumble and fall, clutching their legs. Watching them, Namgung Pyo laughed. No, he tried to laugh.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

However, it was impossible. Impaled by dozens of harpoons, he had become a hedgehog, and he could no longer find a way to laugh.

"Gaju... God...."

Thud.

Yet another life seeped into the Yangtze River.

"Aaaaargh!"

The Namgung clan's members were like ghosts.

Enthusiasm alone would not change one's condition. What improved the martial arts was not enthusiasm but effort.

But now, Namgung's sect members were shaking the foundation of such common sense.

Even when harpoons pierced their eyes, they continued to swing their swords. Even when harpoons penetrated their abdomens and emerged from their backs, they didn't utter a single scream.

Only evil roars emanated from their mouths.

"Die! Dogs of the Evil Sect!"

"Show them how Namgung warriors die!"

The enemies were also proud of their venom. Didn't they rush the Namgung clan during the previous battle like they were chasing a frightened dog?

However, at this moment, they were clearly overwhelmed by the relatively small number of Namgung's warriors. Was there a more fitting spectacle than people running towards death?

One person held their intestines as they flowed from their abdomen while wielding their sword. Another man gripped a broken sword with bare hands and swung it madly. Some martial artists, even after falling down, continued to cut the enemy's ankles.

The term "road to hell" was undoubtedly created for this moment. And in the midst of that hellish journey, Namgung Myung swung his sword like a madman.

Thunk!

A harpoon pierced his shoulder with a horrifying sound. However, Namgung Myung didn't blink an eye and used his sword to pierce the heart of the enemy in front of him.

"Attack!"

Unlike the vigorous cry, his heart was filled with anguish. Sacrificing his life was no concern to him; he was supposed to have died long ago. When Namgung Hwang had to give up his life on this Yangtze River, he should have been the first to die.

But...

"Ugh!"

Every suppressed moan that pierced his ears felt like he was tearing his heart apart bit by bit. The groans of those who were dying while biting their tongues to not show weakness to the enemy were more painful and heartbreaking than screams.

"Aaaaaargh!"

An evil roar burst forth from Namgung Myung's mouth. His sword had now broken free from Namgung Sect's sword and started to trace erratic sword patterns.

Sobs wracked his body.

His tears flowed uncontrollably. In a place where no one reached out to help, in a lonely place where they couldn't even scream and were dying, the martial artists' suffering was too painful, and the tears flowed despite his efforts to hold them back.

Would the world recognize their grief? Would the world remember their deaths?

"Ugh..."

A sobbing and crying voice, coming from his mouth, sounded both pained and mournful.

"Ugh... Ugh..."

A low moan escaped the lips of a Namgung martial artist, his chest pierced by a large harpoon. Another martial artist, unable to continue holding his sword after his arm was impaled, threw the sword he had cherished all his life away and leaped onto the enemy in front of him.

For the sake of saving even just one of those standing behind him for a moment longer. Namgung Myung laughed like a madman.

"Ah..."

An overwhelming force. They were already surrounded on all sides. Swinging their swords over and over again, the number of enemies never decreased. More enemy combatants pressed forward, looking grim, than those being killed.

No matter how much they used their ire and will, it was impossible to handle this situation on their own.

'Are you watching?'

Namgung Myung turned his head blankly toward the riverside. Over there stood Shaolin and the righteous sects, who were clearly observing their final moments.

'Are you still... Are you still watching, you bastards?'

Thunk! Thunk!

When his sword swung violently, harpoons flew towards him.

"Protect him!"

"Protect the Grand Master!"

Changgung martial artists leaped into the air, protecting Namgung Myung. Desperately swinging their swords to deflect the harpoons and, in their haste, reaching out their arms, receiving wounds instead of Namgung Myung.

Namgung Myung let out a scream.

"What are you doing? You fools!"

They should not die like this. They should not die so miserably. They were not the kind of people who should die so wretchedly in a place like this.

Someone was supposed to become a hero of Namgung, and someone was supposed to be the best martial artist in the world. At the very least, they should become someone's father and someone's close friend.

But why were they dying so pitifully here?

"Uh, ugh..."

They tried to charge forward, but their legs, which were pierced by harpoons, would not move any longer. He was one of the most exhausted among those who had poured their energy into the wounded over the past few days.

Sitting down as if he had fallen, it was clearly seen in his eyes. The sight of dozens of harpoons penetrating the backs of those blocking the way.

"Uh..."

Splattered with blood as he was pushed back by harpoons, Namgung Myung's face was smeared with gore. At the moment when hot blood poured onto his face, he thought it might give him burns. But maybe what was truly hot...

"Ugh..."

As if confessing, as if despairing, Namgung Myung laughed, then sobbed, and suddenly, he began tearing at his own head. As if a sinner was about to pull the noose right before execution. He wanted to remain dignified. He wanted to be dignified until the very last moment. But now, it was impossible for Namgung Myung.

'Gaju... I... '

No more tears welled up in his eyes.

'I couldn't protect Namgung.'

All people are the same. When there is something too desperate to achieve by one's own strength, they simply pray. They close their eyes, bow their heads, grasp a hand other than a sword, and simply, desperately, plead.

"Please, someone..."

A thick sob emanated from Namgung Myung's lips.

"Someone... please help..."

Like scraping iron, his voice was torn with anguish.

"Please..."

But his feelings were not conveyed to the enemy martial artists. Instead, one of the enemy martial artists approached Namgung Myung with a derisive smile.

"You idiot."

Clank!

The harpoon in his hand made a short sound.

"You expect someone to help you? The name Namgung must be crying. Do you think someone will help you here on this Yangtze River when even Shaolin abandoned you?"

When he heard these words, Namgung Myung's shoulders shook.

"Don't worry. Everyone here will die, so you won't be lonely on the way to the afterlife."

As he continued to speak, taunts filled his words, and he slowly walked forward. The other enemy martial artists followed him.

"All your talk about justice, fairness, or righteousness, it's all just a facade for your true nature."

The moment Namgung Myung heard that, his shoulders trembled.

"Don't worry. Everyone here will die, so you won't be lonely on the way to the afterlife."

With a thick mocking tone, the enemy martial artist pulled his harpoon back, as if he would thrust it through Namgung Myung's head with a single strike.

"Stop dying!"

Just at the very moment when the tautly stretched harpoon was about to be released towards Namgung Myung's head:

PAAAAAAAAH!

An immensely deafening sonic boom echoed through the air as the person who was about to shoot the harpoon turned his head in panic.

"What's that?"

He saw a massive disc-like object.

No, it was not a disc, but it was spinning intensely and coming towards him.

"A sword?"

Kwaaaang!

The incident came to a halt. With a tremendous force, the sword had made a deep crater in the sand pit of Plum Blossom Island.

"..."

The moment when everyone was about to make bewildered faces, a single line emerged, connecting from the tip of the man's head to his pelvis.

Everyone watched the strange sight with blank expressions.

"Huh..."

The martial artist who noticed the change in his body began trembling as he hesitantly touched his face with his shaking hands.

"Blood?"

He felt something damp on his hands. The martial artist's eyes began to shake. The blood on his hand slowly increased. Then, it began to flow down his chin.

"No way..."

Amazement and disbelief.

But that was it.

With eyes widened, his gaze shifted up and down. Then, the martial artist's body suddenly split in two halves, falling apart towards the ground.

Thud.

A chilling silence settled on Plum Blossom Island in an instant.

The air, once filled with the madness of battle, turned eerily cold, and the people stood, struck by a shocking sight. They all turned their gazes towards the place where the sword that saved Namgung Myung flew from.

And they saw it.

The figure of a man standing by the riverside where the blue waves of the wide river flowed like waves.

Namgung Myung couldn't help but let out an unbearable groan.

"Ah... Ah...."

How could he not recognize it? That man in the black robe, and the crimson emblem etched on the left side of his chest, like a single line of blood flowing from his heart. Even from this far distance, even through his blurred vision, the figure was distinctly visible.

"Mount Hua..."

Finally, the name flowed completely from Namgung Myung's lips.

"Mount Hua's Chivalrous Sword..."

Chung Myung gazed at the ships on the wide river and Plum Blossom Island with his dark eyes, while everyone around maintained their silence.

A man watching from a large ship a bit away from Plum Blossom Island smiled like the crescent moon as his lips, red as if dyed with blood, curled up.

"Indeed..."

As if pleased with the situation, Jang Ilso let out a chuckle.

"You didn't let me down."