The Water Flow dissipated, and the Marquis of Ren De's hands fell to his sides.
The two sections of the long spear fell to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of bloody mud.
He looked at the Longsword in his chest, his face filled with disbelief.
Death was spreading through him.
"I've lost. To think that I, a Marquis, would lose to a mere boy."
The Marquis of Ren De clawed at the air, but he lacked the strength to lift his hands.
Bitterness and indignation filled his heart.
"I rose up during the years of war, invincible on the battlefield. Although I was never a match for my own brother, I still earned countless merits in that era. And yet, I lost to you."
Today, if anyone else had killed him—if it had been Eunuch Chen from the Imperial Palace, or someone from the General Department,
or even the Prime Minister or the Dean—he would have felt it was a fair loss.
But he had lost to Shen Bai.
At this moment, an indescribable resentment bloomed in his heart.
