While Bai ZIhan was fighting with the assassins, Hong Tao was there to execute his plan to kill the Grade-3 Demonic Beast.
Boom!
Another section of the wall collapsed under the Grade-3 Demonic Beast’s onslaught.
No matter how many soldiers tried to stop him, it was completely useless.
Most had already lost hope.
Hong Tao was already running.
Not away—but toward it.
“Hey! You overgrown bastard! Try to kill me if you can.”
He shouted, waving a tattered red flag soaked in beast blood.
He has to taunt and provoke the beast with anything and everything that he has.
The Demonic Beast’s crimson eyes snapped to him instantly, and with a roar that rattled every bone in his body, it charged.
Grade-3 Demonic Beast were more intelligent than Grade-1 and Grade-2 and seemed to have sensed the insult Hong Tao was spewing.
Grade-3 Demonic Beast charged at Hong Tao, willing to make him pay.
(It worked!)
Hong Tao thought.
He then sprinted towards the spot which they had planned to keep the black powder.
Dust exploded beneath Hong Tao’s feet as he turned and sprinted down a crumbling alley, heart hammering like a war drum.
His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to live.
But he didn’t.
There was no turning back now.
All along the path, several others moved in tandem—refugees and militia that had agreed to help.
They darted from cover to cover, tossing broken bottles of oil, dragging crates filled with black powder.
And at the center of it all, hidden beneath collapsed ruins and wooden planks, was the prize: three full barrels of black powder which they had managed to produce until now.
They only had enough for one shot.
If they try with a smaller amount, in order for them to make sure there is a backup then that amount might not be enough.
Moreover, after failing once, who would go and try this shit again?
It was only because Hong Tao was willing to take the risk that they could even do such a reckless thing.
So, this was the first and only time that they were going to do this with the chance of success being very low.
And it had to count.
“Faster, faster!”
The refugee commanded as Hong Tao barreled into the clearing ahead of the trap site.
The bait zone was ready.
Crates stacked around the center. Powder trails hidden under rubble. A fire-starting talisman half-buried at the ignition point.
All they needed now—
CRASH!
The beast exploded through the alley wall, its hulking form blocking out the light as it roared, blood-flecked spittle flying from its fangs.
Hong Tao skidded to a stop, chest heaving.
“Come on, then!”
He bellowed, voice cracking.
“You want me!? Here I am!”
Hong Tao yelled even though he was seriously injured with many bone fractures due to just the debris and shockwave of the Grade-3 Demonic Beast.
Still, he managed to come out alive and finally was near the spot that they had initially planned for him to lure the Grade-3 Demonic Beast.
The Grade-3 Beast lunged.
(Five meters… Three meters…)
The Grade-3 Demonic Beast was too overconfident in his strength and wasn’t even cautious and charged right through.
One—
Hong Tao dove to the side at the last second, rolling just beneath the beast’s sweeping claws.
BOOM!
The Demonic Beast slammed into the ground, smashing through crates and barrels, landing dead center inside the trap.
“NOW!!”
A gun fired, striking the blackpowder and then—
FWOOOOOOOSH!
The ignition line lit up like a comet.
For a single moment, the beast froze, realizing something was off.
But it was too late.
KA-BOOOOOOM!!!
The entire street exploded into a pillar of flame and smoke.
The shockwave threw bodies and debris across the district.
Refugees were knocked flat even from dozens of meters away. Shattered stones rained from the sky.
The fire roared so hot that metal warped and screamed as it melted.
The world went white.
And then—silence.
Ash drifted down like snow.
A mangled chunk of the Demonic Beast’s skull landed near a broken lamppost, still smoldering.
It was dead!
They did it.
They actually did it.
“…Hong Tao!?”
A young man crawled to his feet, coughing from the smoke, eyes wide as he scanned the wreckage.
“Where’s Hong Tao!?”
For a moment, there was no answer.
Then—a hand burst up from under a pile of broken bricks.
“Cough—ugh… I’m alive, damn it…”
Hong Tao dragged himself out, face blackened, armor torn to hell, bleeding from half a dozen places—but alive.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Some wept.
Others collapsed in relief.
And above it all, Hong Tao just lay back on the rubble, grinning like an idiot.
“…Told you it’d work.”
But then—
RRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRRR!!!
The cheers died in an instant.
Everyone froze.
From within the smoke and flame, a figure moved.
Massive, Swaying and Still Breathing!
A shadow loomed behind the pillar of fire.
Then—two glowing crimson eyes blinked open inside the haze.
“…No.”
The young man’s voice cracked as the charred remains of the demonic skull were kicked aside like a pebble.
That wasn’t its skull.
A misfire.
A second beast, smaller, maybe already wounded and dragged into the explosion.
But not the one that they were targeting.
The real one was still standing.
The black-scaled Grade-3 Demonic Beast stumbled forward, body torn open in half a dozen places, scales cracked, one arm dangling limp and useless.
But alive and Furious.
Its blood hissed as it dripped onto the searing ground, steam rising from its flesh.
The soldiers screamed.
“SOLDIERS! SHOOT!! SHOOT IT NOW!!”
Bullets—everything they had left—rained toward the beast.
And the beast didn’t give a damn.
It ignored the pain, ignored the storm of steel and fire, ignored the soldiers.
Its eyes locked on one thing only.
Hong Tao!
Hong Tao blinked as he saw the beast emerge, one broken horn jutting from its ruined head.
“Tch!”
He tried to move. His body didn’t respond.
He tried to roll. One leg refused. His arm wouldn’t lift.
He was done.
And he knew it.
The beast snarled, body shaking, claws scraping the ground as it dragged itself forward like death incarnate.
Some of the soldiers broke and ran.
Others stayed and fired, screaming through tears, doing anything to slow the thing down.
Nothing worked.
It was like death itself was crawling toward Hong Tao.
Hong Tao didn’t scream.
Didn’t cry.
Didn’t beg.
He just looked up, defiant even now.
The beast loomed over him—each ragged breath releasing a storm of heat and stench, blood and smoke swirling in the air like a funeral shroud.
Hong Tao couldn’t move. His body was ruined. Bones crushed, muscles torn, blood pouring from countless wounds.
The ground trembled as the Demonic Beast raised its good arm, claws catching the firelight, casting monstrous shadows across the rubble.
This was it!
Death, coming with the final blow.
The beast reared back.
Its claws fell.
And tore through flesh.
Blood splashed across the broken stones.
Hong Tao didn’t flinch.
Couldn’t.
Pain didn’t matter anymore.
Not when everything had already gone numb.
“Nooooo!”
The refugees who saw this couldn’t help but scream.
Hong Tao, their second leader, and for some, a life saver.
Although Bai Zihan was the main guy for saving everyone, Hong Tao also did his part with rescuing anyone he could.
He was ready to make sacrifices, not because he was brave but because it was needed.
Until the last second, they had hoped for the impossible but that impossible never came.
Soldiers also understood the pain of losing their important one and have respect for Hong Tao who was willing to sacrifice himself to save others.
But they knew that it wasn’t time for them to mourn for their death.
“Shoot! Aim for its head!”
The soldiers didn’t stop shooting the Grade-3 Demonic Beast, not because it was effective, but because it was the only thing that they could do.
Hong Tao lay there, staring up at the darkened sky. The edges of his vision flickered, dimmed, then blurred.
The world around him spun into chaos—screams, gunfire, the crumbling of stone—but it all sounded far away.
Like echoes in a dream he was no longer part of.
His breath came shallow. Slow. Fading.
The beast staggered forward, still dragging itself with burning hatred, blood pouring from its broken form.
Hong Tao’s gaze didn’t follow it.
He didn’t care.
He had done his part.
He had no regrets.
As the first rays of morning pierced the smoky ruin, light spilled across the battlefield like the world itself was holding its breath.
The beast paused, sensing something.
The earth stilled.
And then—
A figure stepped through the smoke.
Cloaked in the rising sun, with golden light dancing across scorched stone, Bai Zihan emerged.
The Demonic Beast turned to face him, snarling, wounded—yet still defiant.
But Hong Tao saw none of that.
His fading eyes caught just one thing.
That silhouette.
That impossible, untouchable presence.
And for the final time—
He smiled.
His eyes closed.
And he was gone.
