Kill the King

The sound of a heartbeat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Each pulse echoed through the shattered throne chamber, beating louder than any war drum. The Crimson King's body stood scorched and trembling, his blood techniques unraveling at the seams. Cuts lined his torso. His left arm barely moved. His aura flickered like a candle in a windstorm.

Haneul's sword hovered at the King's neck, tip glowing with silver edge Qi.

Jin Haru stood behind, bow drawn, arrow charged with reversed spiritual pressure.

And Haeun? He walked forward. Eyes glowing faintly white. Life, Spirit, and Mind Dantian shining in sync.

"This is justice," he said quietly. "For our master. For our sect."

The Crimson King laughed.

It started as a rasp, then grew into a throat-ripping chuckle that echoed unnaturally.

"You think you've won."

He looked up. Eyes glowing black-red.

And then—his body began to dissolve. Like steam. Like ash. Like... fog.

The Crimson King they fought had never been real.

Chapter 44 — Kill the King (Part 2)

The silence shattered.

A soundless boom tore the air in half, and the world seemed to tilt. The bloodstained stones under their feet cracked. The crimson aura they had felt before now pulsed again—stronger, deeper, ancient.

From the upper balcony of the throne hall, a ripple formed in space. It peeled away like burnt parchment, revealing a figure draped in robes darker than the void, lined in threads of deep maroon.

The real Crimson King had arrived.

He stepped through the spatial rift with slow, deliberate movement. Every step felt like a commandment. Every breath felt like a curse.

His face was leaner. Older. More precise. This wasn't the warlord who crushed sects. This was the tactician. The executioner.

His presence blanketed the chamber.

"You boys were impressive," he said. "But you thought I'd face you with a clone because I feared death."

He raised his hand.

"No. I did it so I could see how you move. How you think."

His fingers twitched. And suddenly the ground erupted in red chains—dozens of them—striking out from beneath their feet.

Chapter 44 — Kill the King (Part 3)

The trio scattered.

Haneul reacted first, slashing through several chains with arcs of silver Qi. Jin rolled backward, firing successive arrows infused with spiritual disruption, breaking the trajectory of the entangling binds. Haeun leapt skyward, landing atop a collapsing pillar, the glow from his Dantians intensifying as he drew upon their converging resonance.

The Crimson King did not pursue. He merely watched.

Then, with a subtle shift in stance, he vanished.

He reappeared behind Jin, palm open and charged with spiraling red force. The strike landed, sending Jin crashing through two stone columns.

"Jin!" Haeun shouted.

Jin groaned, dazed but conscious. Blood trickled from his temple.

Haneul intercepted the King before the next blow landed, locking blades in a clash that shook the chamber.

But the King was not pressing.

He was testing.

"Your synergy is admirable," he said mid-parry. "But all you've shown me so far is desperation masked as courage."

Jin forced himself upright, limbs shaking. His mind raced, heart hammering. He knew he couldn't keep up—not with them, and certainly not with this.

Not unless something changes.

He reached inside.

To the base of his Spirit Core.

And forced himself deeper.

The sensation was like stepping into a forge.

Pain. Flame. Weight.

But amidst it—clarity.

He didn't need to match them. He needed to complement them.

He drew a new arrow, one he had etched under moonlight weeks ago—never used, never tested.

He fired.

It split into seven.

Each arrow curved in midair, synchronized to the heartbeat patterns of Haneul and Haeun, striking the King's blind spots in the exact moment they opened them.

The Crimson King staggered.

Eyes narrowed.

"Interesting," he said.

Then came the counterattack.

The King's blood aura erupted into a dome of writhing sigils. Tendrils of corrupted Qi lashed at the trio. Haeun's Life Dantian flared, shielding them in golden flame. Haneul used that moment to slice through two of the King's arms—illusionary extensions that had begun forming.

Jin dropped to one knee, channeling every last reserve into a singular technique: the Bow of the Silent Sky.

Time slowed.

Sound faded.

The arrow loosed.

And it pierced through the Crimson King's shoulder—real flesh, not illusion.

The King's eyes widened, then narrowed into slits.

"That was—actual damage."

He began to gather his energy for a final strike.

But Haeun stepped forward.

All three Dantians in complete resonance.

He wasn't glowing. He was radiating.

"We end this now," he said.