The anger and hatred that had accumulated for so long erupted like wildfire, uncontainable, as that section of city wall collapsed with a thunderous crash.

The soldiers charged through the breach in the collapsed wall.

Before this power that burst forth like molten lava uncapped, devouring everything in its path, the rebel army within the city—originally held together only by greed and delusion—quickly crumbled. The rebel soldiers fled in panic like wolves and pigs, scrambling toward the nearest city gates in desperate attempts to escape.

Ambush troops had long been positioned outside all four gates. They closed in from front and rear, mercilessly slaughtering the fleeing rebels. Shouts of battle echoed throughout the entire city, reverberating in every corner of Jiankang.

Once the situation was under control, Gao Yin immediately dispatched a unit to rush to the pit site to assist in rescue operations. On his end, he ordered men to firmly guard the city gates, allowing no one to escape—especially Murong Ti.

Never before had Gao Yin encountered such a cunning opponent as Murong Ti, who would seize any opportunity to escape. This time, no matter what, he must eliminate this evil completely and never allow him to flee again.

A squad of soldiers suddenly came running, reporting they had just discovered traces of Murong Ti—a lone rider who appeared to be heading toward the pit site.

“A lone rider? How could you fail to stop him?” Gao Yin demanded sternly.

“He’s using the Empress Dowager as a hostage!”

Gao Yin was stunned and immediately gave chase.

…

The pit site had already been secured by Li Mu.

The rebels were either dead or fled. Those remaining, seeing the dire situation, had long since dropped their weapons and surrendered on their knees. To save their lives, they turned around and frantically dug away the dirt they had just buried, pulling the people from the pits.

Li Mu, leading his men, had already rescued those who had been buried deepest.

Though the soldiers who came with him had prepared themselves mentally, it was only now, witnessing this scene firsthand, that they realized the tragic state was far more horrific than anything they had previously imagined.

Having been buried in the earth for days, when they finally emerged, regardless of their former noble status or identity, they all lay scattered about, collapsed on the ground.

The word “disheveled” was insufficient to describe their current appearance.

Exhausted and barely breathing, their bodies were covered in filth, their skin ulcerated, with insects and ants crawling constantly through their clothing. Though the weather had turned cold, they still emitted a strong, putrid odor.

No one cared about any of this anymore.

After emerging from the pits, the first and only thing they did was open their mouths wide, gasping for breath, savoring the exhilarating sensation of finally being able to breathe freely again.

Some began to weep.

The crying started weak and feeble, like a thin strand of spider silk drifting in the wind, ready to break at any moment. But soon the weeping grew louder and could be heard everywhere—not tears of sorrow, but cries mixed with fear, relief, and the wild joy of surviving catastrophe.

“Minister Feng is here!”

Amid the rising and falling sobs, suddenly a soldier shouted loudly.

Li Mu rushed over quickly and, together with the soldier, rapidly dug Feng Wei from the pit and pulled him out.

Feng Wei was already extremely weak, his entire body covered in mud and filth, utterly disheveled. He had lost consciousness, and after a period of resuscitation, he let out an “Ah—” and slowly opened his eyes, his expression still dazed. When he clearly saw Li Mu before him, his eyes suddenly widened, radiating wild joy, his lips trembling as if wanting to say something. Then his eyes suddenly rolled back and he fainted again.

“Liu Shizhong!”

Another soldier called out.

Nearby, a disheveled person still buried in the earth was shaking the arm that protruded above ground, signaling for rescue.

This person was Liu Hui.

He was buried up to his chest and had been so for some time. Fortunately, the rebel soldiers earlier had only focused on filling in dirt without compacting it. But even so, his face had already turned purple.

Like a fish trapped in a dried-up marsh, he opened his cracked and bleeding mouth, trying to breathe. But the pressure on his chest prevented this effort.

Several soldiers rushed over, wanting to dig him out of the earth. Suddenly, as if remembering something, they stopped abruptly, looked at each other, then turned to Li Mu with somewhat uneasy expressions, as if waiting for his instruction.

Liu Hui could no longer breathe properly. He felt as though his chest was bound by iron hoops, so tight he couldn’t catch his breath. In extreme agony, he wanted to beg for mercy from the person before him, but couldn’t utter a single word.

The only thing he could still do was look at Li Mu with his eyes, filled with earnest pleading.

Li Mu frowned slightly and nodded to the two soldiers.

The soldiers knew that Liu Hui had previously slandered Li Mu repeatedly in court and was his enemy, so they hadn’t dared act on their own initiative. Having received his permission, they immediately worked together to pull the man from the earth.

Liu Hui collapsed in the dirt pile, gasping desperately for air. After gradually catching his breath and being helped to sit up, he still stared blankly ahead, trembling all over.

Suddenly, commotion arose from behind.

Li Mu turned his head. A rider appeared in his field of vision.

Murong Ti, in silver armor and white robes, wielded a wolf-tooth spear with one hand, fierce and merciless. Where cold light passed, blood scattered everywhere as he carved a path through the obstructing crowd, charging toward Li Mu at full speed.

The soldiers shouted and quickly moved horse barriers to block his path.

He fell from his horse along with Gao Yongrong on his back. Before the soldiers could approach, he immediately sprang to his feet, grabbed Gao Yongrong, and held her in front of him as a shield. With one hand restraining Gao Yongrong and the other wielding his long spear, he continuously struck down opponents, advancing step by difficult step.

Seeing his crazed state and that he held the Empress Dowager hostage, the soldiers dared not press closer for the moment. They only gathered layer by layer, completely surrounding him in a circle.

The white robes on Murong Ti’s body had long been soaked through with blood, and his eyes were also completely red.

He surveyed the circle, gripping his spear, his eyes sinister and cold, staring fixedly at Li Mu ahead. Without saying a word, he only pushed Gao Yongrong forward and continued approaching.

Gao Yongrong’s face was deathly pale. Held hostage by Murong Ti, she moved forward like a puppet, stumbling and swaying.

The soldiers did not disperse. They only slowly retreated as Murong Ti advanced, constantly looking back at Li Mu, awaiting his command.

Li Mu’s gaze passed through the milling crowd in between and settled on Murong Ti’s blood-stained face.

“Murong Ti, using a woman as your shield—what kind of man are you! Release her!”

Gao Yin finally arrived, spurring his horse to gallop near, dismounting and blocking Murong Ti’s path, shouting sternly.

Murong Ti acted as though he hadn’t heard.

He continued pushing Gao Yongrong forward, staring at Li Mu, walking toward him step by step.

“Everyone stand aside. Let him come through.”

Li Mu suddenly spoke.

Gao Yin quickly turned back to look at him.

His expression was calm.

Gao Yin hesitated momentarily, glanced at Gao Yongrong held hostage by Murong Ti, and finally stepped aside.

The soldiers followed suit, rustling as they retreated to both sides, clearing a path.

Murong Ti shoved Gao Yongrong aside with one push, not even glancing at her, and continued walking toward Li Mu.

Gao Yongrong was thrown to the ground, lying there motionless.

Gao Yin hurried forward to check on her. Seeing her eyes tightly closed, obviously extremely weak and having fainted, he quickly called for someone to take her for treatment.

…

Murong Ti dropped the long spear from his hand and walked step by step to Li Mu’s front, finally stopping.

No more crying could be heard around them, and even the groaning had completely disappeared.

The pit site with its tens of thousands of people had become as silent as primordial chaos, utterly soundless.

A breeze passed, stirring the red tassel atop Murong Ti’s helmet. The tassel fluttered like blood, like fire.

His bloodshot eyes staring at Li Mu were the same, as if red drops were about to fall.

Li Mu’s gaze swept over the arm that he had once crippled, saying: “Even if I used only one arm, you still wouldn’t be my match. Moreover, you may not have had the chance to reach my presence.”

The corner of Murong Ti’s eye twitched: “So what? Should I therefore not seek revenge?”

He seemed to be smiling, his blood-covered face unable to conceal his handsome features.

“In this world, all of my enemies, Murong Ti, must die. Those who deserved death have already died. You cannot be an exception.”

“As long as I have one breath left, I will seek revenge.”

He suddenly let out a wild howl toward the sky, appearing crazed, then drew his sword and charged at Li Mu. His steps grew faster and faster, his toes touching the ground and leaving one bloody footprint after another.

Wild all the way, yet revealing several parts of eerie determination and tragic heroism.

The distance between the two men grew ever closer.

Li Mu remained motionless, his gaze slowly lifting from the long sword in Murong Ti’s hand to settle behind him.

An arrow had already been shot from behind Murong Ti, whistling through the air.

Swift as lightning, in almost the blink of an eye, this arrow caught up, pierced through his armor, and embedded deeply in his back.

Murong Ti’s steps paused for a moment, then continued forward.

The arrow was shot by Gao Yin.

Murong Ti must die. It should be decided quickly.

He didn’t want any more accidents to occur.

Having shot the first arrow, Gao Yin put away his bow as archers took over.

At a single command, dozens of sharp arrows from left, right, and behind continued whistling toward Murong Ti.

In the blink of an eye, his body was bristling with arrow after arrow.

Streams of blood flowed continuously down his body from his shoulders and back.

Blood also surged from the corner of his mouth. His steps grew slower and slower, his body swaying unsteadily, yet he never looked back. Gritting his teeth, he staggered and continued forward step by step until he finally reached Li Mu’s presence. He raised his continuously bleeding hand, wanting to stab Li Mu, but his body swayed again.

With a “clang,” the sword fell to the ground.

His entire body collapsed forward with it. After struggling for a moment, he finally turned over, allowing the arrows embedded in his back to pierce through his chest one by one.

Murong Ti lay facing the sky, eyes wide open, staring fixedly at Li Mu, saying word by word: “Heaven has been so unfair to me! It is Heaven that wants to destroy me, not you, Li Mu. Remember this…”

Li Mu said coldly: “Murong Ti, revenge is acceptable, but if you use any means necessary, even becoming utterly deranged, then even if men don’t punish you, Heaven will. What you say is quite right. Today Heaven indeed wants you dead. How many people have suffered broken homes and deaths because of your so-called revenge? You say Heaven treats you unfairly. Where was your fairness toward those who died unjustly because of you?”

Having finished speaking, he turned and walked away.

Blood continuously poured from Murong Ti’s mouth, yet he laughed to himself: “What fairness exists in this world? Have you ever seen tigers, wolves, deer, and sheep walking together in the forest? It has always been survival of the fittest, the victor becomes king and the defeated becomes bandit…”

He began to cough, his voice incredibly pained.

Li Mu acted as though he hadn’t heard and didn’t look back.

Murong Ti lay alone on the ground, his eyes gazing at a floating cloud in the sky that gradually drifted over, changing shape with the wind. His gaze slowly became unfocused, as if talking to himself, intermittently murmuring: “In this lifetime, from when I was thirteen years old, I was already dead…”

“…The only days I felt like I was still alive were in Yi Cheng. That day, the weather was stifling hot, you went to sleep for your afternoon nap, and I sat on the ground, secretly fanning you…”

A trace of a smile slowly appeared at the corner of his lips.

Li Mu had already walked more than ten steps away when he suddenly stopped, turned around, and stared at Murong Ti on the ground, a shadow passing through his eyes.

“Even after becoming emperor, I still couldn’t find peace. Sometimes I often thought, back then in that wilderness, if you had been ruthless enough to kill me on the spot, then I would never have had all that subsequent torment and pain. Unfortunately, you were still soft-hearted in the end and didn’t kill me…”

“I could have made all of Jiankang be buried with me. But I didn’t. Because at that time, I had promised you that if you didn’t like me massacring cities, I wouldn’t massacre them… Luoyang was my breaking of that promise, but this time, I must remember my vow to you and try to kill fewer people…”

Li Mu’s hand pressed onto his sword hilt, his five fingers slowly tightening. Step by step, he walked back, and under the gaze of countless puzzled eyes in the distance, thrust his sword into Murong Ti’s chest.

The sword hilt penetrated heart and back, embedding deeply into the ground.

Murong Ti’s voice stopped abruptly. The trace of a smile frozen at the corner of his lips became even more pronounced.

Li Mu’s expression was indifferent as he withdrew the blood-stained sword and turned to leave once more.