Gu Shenwei watched his enemy's head hit the ground with his own eyes, yet felt none of the exhilaration of avenging his hatred. Instead, a deep sense of loss welled up inside him. After struggling forward along that rugged road for so many years, the destination offered no intoxicating new world—only a dull, familiar old scene.
The hidden weapon struck the ground and felled several underlings. Shi Qingjue had only injured his arm and barely felt it. He snatched up the head from the ground with his left hand, his face shining with excitement, and shouted himself hoarse, "Great Head God, bear witness! Tieshan killed the Unrivaled King! Tieshan killed the Unrivaled King!"
The monk had held on to one hope: killing the Unrivaled King in public would satisfy the Tieshan bandits' lust for slaughter, rouse an even greater enthusiasm for banditry among the crowd, and turn the whole affair into a reckless gamble. If he had possessed a little more experience in the martial world, he would never have dared try it.
The result disappointed him, and even frightened him a little. The surroundings fell utterly silent. There were no cheers, no shouts. Even the hundred-odd brothers who had once supported him slowly retreated, moving farther and farther away.
He held the head aloft before the crowd, feeling utterly alone.
At least I tried, he thought. If the Unrivaled King were rescued, he would probably be the first person killed—the disrespectful one. So it had all been worth it. "Cowards, look closely! I, the monk Shi Qingjue, am the one who killed the Unrivaled King. Let the men of Golden Peng Fortress and the Dragon King bear witness. If anyone asks about this later, be sure to tell them clearly: the heroes of Tieshan merely stood by and watched.