Finally sitting up, he brought his hand to his head, feeling the warm blood that still ran slick over his face from his mended wounds.

The silence allowed him to listen to his own heart, though he found nothing resonating in his ears; it was simply silent.

As he looked over, he saw the merciless emperor sitting in his throne with a gaping wound still through his stomach, sitting there with a tired look, though as proud as ever.

“…So, one yet still lives…” Emperor Jiao-Long said before coughing up blood.

Jeong-Hui picked himself up, looking around the room to find the bodies of his comrades around the room, invoking tears from his eyes, though he didn’t weep.

It was more of a ‘stunning anguish’, as if most of it was simply utter shock with his mind realizing this wasn’t a dream.

“You killed them…You did this,” he said quietly.

Jiao-Long watched him, not moving from his throne, though it seemed as though he wasn’t in any condition to, “Do not forget you’re the ones who began this attack. I simply responded in kind; do not provoke a war then whimper at its brutality.”

Picking up his daggers, he was deaf to the words of the dying emperor, looking down at those black-steel blades as he felt history was repeating itself.

There were a lot of emotions brewing inside of him; anger, grief, lamentation, bitterness, but above all of that, he simply felt tired. It was all too much; none of it felt real, yet it scorned his soul,

“I’m going to kill you.”

Those words that left Jeong-Hui’s lips, born from the deepest depths of his gut weren’t a threat, but a promise; an inevitably soon to come,

The merciless emperor felt as much through those words as his eyes widened, experiencing the malevolence from the red-haired man.

“I see…” Emperor Jiao-Long stood from his throne as blood spilled from his gaping wound, “…Yinlong is all but perished; I can feel it. But, the same goes for you: your people are gone. You have nothing left, and neither do I; so let us finish this as two warriors.”

In that moment, he couldn’t care less of what the emperor had to say; he was simply a force of nature—a predator that had to be put down.

I won’t underestimate him, even if he’s a walking corpse. This one is a monster; a devil among demons. Everybody fell to him…I’ll finish what you couldn’t finish, my friends, he thought.

As he inhaled, holding one dagger out with his emerald eyes setting on the emperor, the tall, imposing figure dashed towards him with that blinding speed. For one who stood on the threshold of death, the emperor moved with the same swiftness as ever.

However, the assassin saw this coming as he countered with the following invocation falling from his lips:

“Esoteric Domain: Devil Slaying Hour.”

Even the all-powerful royal of draconic heritage was caught by surprise with the sudden deployment of the assassin’s inner realm, causing a space to expand between them, dragging them both into the depths of the unique realm.

Everything was momentarily swallowed in darkness before revealing the wasteland of swords, sitting beneath the world clock that ticked above.

“…What is this foul world?” Emperor Jiao-Long questioned, glancing around at the desolate place.

“Your burial site,” Jeong-Hui answered.

Though he tried to hold himself together in the face of what needed to be done, he was simply so clouded by anguish that his own inner realm shapes itself to his emotions; as tears strolled down his cheek, moisture laced the air before it began to rain.

I’m so weak, he thought, after all of this time…nothing’s changed. I’m still the nameless nobody I always was.

Even with his mind clouded by sadness, the movements of the half-dead emperor were able to be perceived as clear as day within his own territory as he blinked away from an incoming dropkick.

After swiftly evading strikes from the powerful, draconic royal, Jeong-Hui’s enigmatic realm seemed to finally reveal itself to the emperor’s sharp mind.

“I see–this ability of yours grants you a conceptual advantage?” Emperor Jiao-Long deduced.

There was no part of him that wanted to indulge the words of the fiendish being before him, simply finding the sound that emitted from the Great Emperor’s lips to be abhorrent.

It was without question that anger filled his veins, though he found himself hesitating to move in for the kill, simply feeling a total loss in all aspirations; he simply felt aimless now. Still, he knew this was the one thing, if nothing else, he wanted to do.

When looking at the bloodied emperor, he found himself reminiscing of his fallen friends; the cowardly, but honest antics of Sol, Yeong-Un’s energetic, but sometimes rough attitude, and Korain’s guidance. He remembered everybody; all of those nice thoughts were warm, yet they made his heart ache and his fingers tighten around his daggers.

It was those thoughts that sent him into a momentary trance of absolute bloodlust as he saw their murderer before him.

Emperor Jiao-Long was already on his last legs as more than enough blood had left his body naturally, leaving Jeong-Hui only needing to summon the intent of what came next–

[Ripper]

Invoked with utmost earnestness in his feelings towards killing the royal in front of him, he blinked forward before unleashing the array of slashes against Emperor Jiao-Long, cutting across his neck, chest, and head multiple times in an instant.

“–”

Not a sound escaped Jiao-Long’s lips as he fell to his knees, falling dead within moments as it seemed only one last push was needed to guide him to the afterlife. Just as the emperor fell, the Devil Slaying Hour crumbled away, returning the corpse of the royal and Jeong-Hui himself back to the accursed throne room.

The prompt that appeared, stating his victory over the boss meant nothing to him; the numbers it showed held no meaning nor importance as he sat on his knees.

Is my only role in life to be an avenger?…I’m always the last one left standing, and the one who has to bloody their hands in the end, he questioned.