The Martial Unity

"Cough… Cough…" Captain Deacon spluttered blood as he panted deeply.

His body was a mess, riddled with deep wounds that refused to stop bleeding. His left eye was missing, causing him to take a stance that tilted his left side away. His Martial Art attire was completely torn, yet he didn't care. He stumbled as he moved forward.

Each step he took splashed around the blood that submerged his heels, produced by all the corpses around.

He glanced around him.

The grade-ten Martial Squires that had taken the lead of their wounded force in the battle against the Root were all dead.

One of them was flattened, while the other one was severed in half, the third one had been throttled away. Considering he never returned, Captain Deacon that he was dead too.

He was the only one left, half a day later.

The raid force had put up a brave fight, the grade-ten Martial Squires rallied the wounded Martial Artists into going all out against the roots. Hundreds of Martial Squires launched long-range attacks one by one as the close-range Martial Artists rushed forward. They mustered every ounce of power they could to resist the nightmare that the roots were.

The worst part wasn't that they were crushed in the end.

No.

The worst part was that they weren't crushed immediately.

The worst part was that they even made some progress, believing they could win.

Hoping they could win.

The worst part was when the roots allowed them to hope, before crushing it mercilessly, leaving behind nothing but despair.

with the power and speed of grade-ten Martial

only he, the most invincible Martial Squire,

knew that it was just a matter of time.

that wasn't

couldn't afford to care, for the sake of

as the son of his father for whom he was

despair. He had sunk low not only because of his personal failures but because he knew that his personal failure would destroy everything his father

decade ago. He had sworn that he would do anything in his power to aid his father, who had raised him with love and faith,

he had done the very opposite. He had gone and suffered the greatest failure in

the catastrophe that they had suffered by losing

the elections was absolutely devastating. It was a political catastrophe of unprecedented detriment. It would cost Chairman Deacon the entirety of his political

father in the eye and tell him that his failure as a leader, as a Martial Squire, and as a son,

his father's image appeared in his

was a hard ass, yet it was certain that he loved his children deeply, going to great lengths to facilitate their dreams

He owed it to his father to not kill himself because

before turning around and heading for

BAM!!!

root attack pummeling him as he left. He had gotten a brief moment of respite when he had collapsed into the ground motionless, but as soon as

body. If not for the fact that his Martial Body had grown stronger over twenty years of growth, and

grade-ten Martial Squires. Of course, they had inflicted far more damage than

was escaping, a figure appeared before

SLASH

SPLAT!

struck at his exposed neck, leaving a wound that

his mask. "Grade-ten Martial Squires sure are impressive, it makes sense that you managed to escape