The Eldest Hun Brother was fleeing.
Fleeing like mad.
His previous hiding place had been excellent. Not only had the purple mist missed it, even the Golden Armored Guards sweeping the area had failed to find him.
And yet.
Confronted with the absurd gulf between his dreams and reality, he was still utterly shaken. He even felt that everything he had just witnessed must have been an illusion.
He had originally been brimming with ambition. Though he had made no name for himself in the martial world, he still had a band of brothers under him and some genuine skill. He had simply been unlucky and never encountered anything truly momentous.
But today, he had been genuinely frightened.
He also realized just how much of a frog at the bottom of a well he had been—
He knew Falling Shadow Spear. A few years ago, there had been another stronghold near theirs called Peacock Stockade—a thoroughly tasteless name, though its people had been somewhat stronger than them. They had clashed constantly over the years, with his side losing more often than it won.
Then, one day, that entire stockade had been wiped out.
The culprit had been Falling Shadow Spear. They had not witnessed what happened, but when they rushed over, all they found was a heap of horribly mangled corpses that had clearly suffered agonizing torture.
Yet just now, this man who had effortlessly slaughtered an entire stockade had been killed as easily as a chicken. Granted, he had just fought a major battle and sustained serious injuries.
Granted, he had been caught unprepared by an opponent who had planned ahead, never expecting them to disregard his techniques entirely.
But the point was.
Dead was dead. In just two moves, the renowned Falling Shadow Spear of the borderlands... had