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.

and speed of grade-ten Martial Squires, crushed any and all

only he, the most invincible

he knew that it was just a matter of time. Yet, he

that wasn't

to care, for the sake of his

Artist, as a leader, as the son of his father for whom

not only because of his personal failures

would do anything in his power to aid his father, who had raised him with love and faith, in

and suffered the greatest failure in his career at the worst possible time he

once his father's allies realized the sheer magnitude of the catastrophe that they had suffered by losing the Martial Squires that

a political catastrophe of unprecedented detriment. It would cost Chairman Deacon the

his failure as a leader, as a

father's image appeared in his

certain that he loved his children deeply, going to great lengths to facilitate their

taking responsibility repulsed him. He owed it to his father to not kill himself

gritted his teeth, before turning around and heading for the

BAM!!!

brief moment of respite when he had collapsed into the ground motionless, but as soon as he started

the fact that his Martial Body had grown stronger over twenty years of growth, and the powerful grade-ten defensive

Martial Squire was not someone who could be put down as easily as the other grade-ten Martial Squires. Of course, they had inflicted far more damage than

a figure appeared

SLASH

SPLAT!

his exposed neck, leaving a

Rui murmured from behind his mask. "Grade-ten Martial Squires sure are impressive, it makes sense that you managed