Chapter 114: On the Brink of Madness

Shingin was fully consumed by the madness of battle. His blood-red eyes burned with unrelenting fury and determination. The watchers surrounding him had realized he was on the verge of collapse, yet they showed no sign of relenting. Instead, their attacks intensified, closing in with a ferocity that sought to obliterate him.

"I can't stop! I won't stop!" Shingin growled through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse with strain. His battered body moved on instinct, driven by sheer willpower as he fought to survive. Each attack narrowly missed him by a hair's breadth, his reflexes sharp but his energy rapidly waning.

Pain was no longer a concept he could comprehend. His mind had long abandoned thoughts of surrender or fear, replaced by the unwavering beat of his heart—a heart that yearned to protect his mother and Shizuha. Every nerve in his body screamed in protest, yet he forced himself to keep moving, navigating the onslaught of deadly attacks with reckless abandon.

"Come on, come on!" Bloodied and covered in venom, Shingin's torn clothing clung to his trembling frame. His injuries were beyond counting, yet he refused to let despair take hold. Watcher 21 threw a thunderous punch at his chest, the air vibrating with its sheer force. Sensing the danger, Shingin summoned every ounce of his strength to veer to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow.

The winds raged around him, his wind-element alien soul creating distorted currents in the air. Shingin's movements were erratic yet eerily precise, each step a testament to his refusal to fall.

"You really think you can escape?" sneered Watcher 20, his predatory eyes locked onto Shingin's form. The watcher knew Shingin's strength was nearly spent, but his own pride kept him from underestimating the cornered man. He launched himself forward, his fists a storm of destruction aimed squarely at his target.

Shingin's speed had reached a level that defied reason, his body moving like a phantom through the deadly net of attacks. Poisoned snakes, crushing fists, and overwhelming force converged, yet he evaded them with an agility born of desperation. His labored breaths came in rapid, uneven bursts, his pale face streaked with dirt and blood, but his eyes burned with an indomitable fire.

Watcher 25 let out a mocking laugh as he unleashed his venomous snake once more. The creature darted through the air with terrifying speed, its fangs gleaming as it aimed for Shingin's throat. Without a moment's thought, Shingin hurled himself to the side, his wind aura pushing him just out of reach. Even so, the snake's toxic breath grazed him, leaving a burning trail on his skin.

"Damn it!" Shingin roared, his fury boiling over. He had never felt so close to the edge of death. Every drop of his blood felt like ice in his veins, yet a surge of rage erupted from deep within him. His wind-element powers flared once more, ripping through the air as he broke free of the snake's pursuit.

But there was no time to catch his breath. Watcher 20's heavy fist swung toward him again, forcing Shingin to dodge instinctively. His control over his body was slipping, his vision swimming with exhaustion, yet he pressed on. He knew that only by defeating his enemies could he continue to protect what mattered most.

"Mother… Shizuha…" Their faces flashed through his mind, their images igniting a fierce resolve in his chest. Every dodge was a rejection of fate, every counterstrike a desperate gamble for the future. He clung to the hope that, by holding on, he could somehow overcome the endless assault.

Though his body teetered on the brink of collapse, Shingin refused to stop. His jaw clenched tightly, his determination forcing him to channel every last ounce of strength into evasion and counterattacks. Each movement left him closer to the abyss, but his willpower kept him alive. The excruciating pain, the relentless pressure, the suffocating exhaustion—none of it could extinguish the flame within him.

"I won't let you break me!" Shingin snarled, his voice hoarse but unyielding. His wind aura surged, a tempest of energy swirling around him. He extended his arms, gathering the winds into a razor-sharp blade that cleaved through the air with terrifying precision.

This strike—born from the depths of his desperation—lashed out at his enemies like a dying star's final flare. Shingin's eyes gleamed with a crazed determination, a silent vow to keep fighting no matter the odds. The madness consuming him was his lifeline, his only means of clawing back hope from the jaws of despair.