The Tyrant's Last Stand

The battlefield trembled.

Wu-Jin's body screamed with pain, his once-imposing figure now drenched in blood—his own and that of countless others. His robes, once a symbol of dominance, were torn, revealing deep wounds carved across his flesh. Yet, his grip on his sword did not waver. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, held the fire of a man who refused to die lying down.

Jin Tae-Hyun stood before him, unscathed. Kaito—no, Jin Tae-Hyun now—had orchestrated this moment with terrifying precision. The fall of the Black Moon Sect, the annihilation of its forces, the complete erasure of Wu-Jin's empire. Everything had led to this.

"You're still standing," Jin said, voice devoid of mockery. He didn't look down on Wu-Jin, nor did he offer any words of arrogance. He simply acknowledged what stood before him—a warrior who refused to fall.

Wu-Jin exhaled, the warm breath stinging his cracked lips. "Of course. It wouldn't be much of a final battle if I collapsed before I even swung my sword."

A flicker of amusement passed through Jin's expression, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Wu-Jin shifted his stance, steadying his sword despite the agony wrecking his body. His fingers trembled, not out of fear, but from the sheer exhaustion clawing at him. He had fought his entire life—first against hunger, then against fate, and now, against the inevitable.

But this battle… this one last battle…

He would fight it until the very end.

The Final Clash

Wu-Jin surged forward.

His sword tore through the air like a dragon's fang, each strike carrying the weight of decades of battles, of victories, of a man who had never once stopped moving forward. His aura flared—not the aura of a man fighting to win, but of a man fighting to defy the fate handed to him.

Jin met him head-on.

The clash of steel echoed like thunder, shockwaves ripping through the ruined battlefield. Wu-Jin's swordsmanship was raw, forged through bloodshed and survival. Jin's was calculated, honed through relentless refinement. Each strike Wu-Jin delivered was met with equal force, their blades dancing in a deadly waltz.

Their movements blurred, too fast for any ordinary warrior to follow. Sparks flew, the very ground cracking beneath the weight of their clash. Wu-Jin twisted his blade mid-strike, a technique honed through countless fights, forcing Jin to adjust at the last moment.

But Jin adjusted flawlessly.

He had studied Wu-Jin, anticipated his patterns. This was not a fight between equals—it was a fight where one had already seen the ending.

Yet Wu-Jin did not falter.

Even as his wounds deepened, even as his breath grew ragged, he did not stop. He could not stop.

Because if he stopped, then everything he had built, everything he had fought for, would mean nothing.

With a roar, Wu-Jin unleashed the Black Moon Sect's forbidden technique. "Heaven-Shattering Eclipse!"

Dark energy erupted from his blade, a crescent of pure destruction surging toward Jin. It was a technique that had slain entire battlefields, reduced armies to corpses in mere seconds.

Jin's eyes sharpened.

He had been waiting for this.

With a swift step, he pivoted—not to dodge, but to counter.

His sword, wreathed in golden energy, tore through the darkness.

Wu-Jin barely had time to react before the force slammed into him, his own technique turned against him.

He was sent flying, crashing into the shattered remains of what was once his palace. Blood sprayed from his lips as he hit the ground, his body screaming in protest.

For the first time… he couldn't move.

The Rise of a Tyrant

Lying amidst the wreckage of his empire, Wu-Jin let out a hoarse chuckle. His mind drifted, fragments of his past flashing before his eyes.

The slums. The hunger. The first kill.

He had never been born into greatness. He had clawed his way up from the dirt.

After killing his master, he wandered from sect to sect, challenging anyone who stood above him. He honed his blade against the strongest warriors, spilling blood until his name became feared. He built the Black Moon Sect from nothing, taking in those the world had abandoned—orphans, exiles, the forsaken.

He gave them purpose.

He gave them power.

But in doing so, he became what he had once despised. A tyrant.

He had justified it, convinced himself that only through absolute strength could he protect what he had built. He crushed dissent, eradicated threats before they could rise, ensured that no one could ever do to him what he had done to others.

And yet, here he was.

Brought to ruin.

The Last Words

Jin approached, his sword lowered but ready. There was no arrogance in his stance, no cruelty. Just the quiet understanding of a warrior who had won.

Wu-Jin coughed, blood staining his lips. His vision blurred, but he still managed to smirk. "You got me good, boy."

Jin didn't respond. He simply waited.

Wu-Jin exhaled, the weight of decades pressing down on him. "Tell me something… Did I ever have a choice?"

Jin frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Was I always meant to end up like this? No matter what I did, was this… inevitable?" His voice held no desperation, only quiet acceptance.

Jin was silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But does it matter now?"

Wu-Jin chuckled, a weak, rasping sound. "No. It doesn't."

A pause. Then, he lifted his gaze, meeting Jin's eyes.

"You remind me of myself, you know?" His smirk was bitter. "You move forward without hesitation, without doubt. But let me ask you this, Jin Tae-Hyun… How far are you willing to go before you become the monster you just killed?"

Jin's expression didn't change. But something flickered in his eyes.

A moment of hesitation.

And Wu-Jin saw it.

He let out a breath. "Good. That means you're still human."

He closed his eyes.

And for the first time in his life…

Wu-Jin stopped fighting.

The flames crackled around them, but to Jin, the battlefield felt quiet.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the fallen tyrant. He had won. The Black Moon Sect was finished.

But Wu-Jin's words lingered.

Jin turned, stepping away from the ruins.

The battle was over.

But the war within him… had just begun.