After thirty fierce exchanges, Garrick’s breathing lost its rhythm and each motion dragged. Bang! A palm hammered his shoulder; the snap of bone rang clear. He grunted, staggered back three steps, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
Bang! A second strike smashed into his back. Blood sprayed from his lips as he fell from mid-air like a severed kite.
“Father!” Vivian’s scream tore through the din. Even on landing, Garrick forced himself upright and lunged toward his daughter once more. He could not fall. He could not die. Vivian was still waiting. His voice rasped like stone on steel, “Vivian, run! Leave this place now!”
Vivian shook her head hard, tears blurring her sight. “I’m not leaving! I’ll stay with you! If we die, we die together!”
Garrick’s gaze trembled. “Silly child! If you stay, we both die! Live! Go find Jared and beg forgiveness for our family!”
“Father…” Her answer dissolved into sobs. Garrick’s trembling hand brushed her cheek; the wetness there mixed with the blood on his fingertips. “I blundered and ruined our clan, but you must not fall here. You have to live.”
He turned toward the onrushing soldiers and House Wagner guards, a hard glint flickering in his eyes. “Go! Take the garden’s back gate! Hurry!”
Vivian opened her mouth, but Garrick had already spun away and charged the tide.
“Come on! Anyone craving death! Step forward!”
True Immortal power erupted, a golden palm imprint swept out and hurled a dozen soldiers into the air. He planted himself before Vivian like an unmovable mountain, blocking every path to her.
Staring at her father’s blood-soaked, solitary back, Vivian’s tears fell faster than she could wipe them away. She ground her teeth, something sharp coiling inside her chest.
At last she stamped the flagstones, whirled, and sprinted toward the rear courtyard. Dominic barked, “After her! Don’t let her escape!”
Soldiers and guards leapt to obey, but Garrick stepped forward again, sealing every route.
“If you want her, pass me first!” He flicked his wrist, a longsword of shifting colors and dense spirit light appeared in his grip. It was his life-bound weapon, the House of Chance’s thousand-year treasure, the Heavenstep Blade.
The white-haired elder watched, a brief glint sliding through his eyes. “Garrick, you make a fine father, but you chose the wrong side.”
Garrick let out a hoarse laugh. The sound scraped through the smoke-filled air with a bleak chill and a wild swagger. “Save the chit-chat. If you want a fight, then fight. Come!”
He raised the Heavenstep Blade. No more guarding, no more second-guessing. Like a sword just freed from its sheath, he shot straight into the crowded ranks ahead.
The Celestial Palace Elders answered in kind. They surged forward together, sealing every path and striking from every angle.
This time Garrick spared no strength. He abandoned defense entirely and traded blow for blow, life for life. He knew as clearly as his heartbeat that every extra second he bought gave Vivian one more heartbeat to escape.
White light burst from the Heavenstep Blade, and a sheet of frost energy spilled outward in all directions. Howling palm winds answered, shaking the ground and rattling the shattered walls. Blood fountained through the air and soaked into Garrick’s shredded robe.
After 50 exchanges, three new gashes, each deep enough to bare bone, ran across his body. Blood poured, yet he still refused to take even one step back.
After 70 exchanges, another slash carved from shoulder to waist. Flesh curled back from the cut, fire lanced through every breath, and still he fought on.
After 90 exchanges, an Elder’s palm smashed into his left arm. Bones popped, the limb dropped uselessly at his side. Even so, he clamped his right hand around the Heavenstep Blade, ground his teeth, and stayed in the fight.
“Father!” From far off, Vivian’s cry ripped across the courtyard. She had never run far. Crouched behind a fractured corner wall, she watched her father’s blood soaked struggle, every blow twisting inside her like a knife.
Garrick caught the sound of her voice, but he did not turn. He could not turn.
If he gave her even a glance, he would weaken and abandon the chance to escape. So he fought, and kept fighting, until the final heartbeat, until the moment his body failed.
After 100 exchanges, Garrick stood drenched in his own blood. His robes hung in ribbons, wounds covered every inch, and his breathing thinned to a fragile thread. Yet his eyes still gleamed like distant stars, steady as hammered iron.
He fixed his gaze on the two True Immortal Elders ahead, and a fierce, defiant smile tugged at his cracked lips. “Come on… Again… I’m still standing…”
A quick pulse of hesitation flickered through the Celestial Palace Elders. So many of them had besieged one battered man, yet several of their own already lay dead.
How is Garrick still on his feet?
The white haired elder snorted, his eyes sharp as winter ice, and turned toward Dominic. “Lord Wagner send your men in as well! End this quickly!”
“Understood!” Dominic answered without the slightest pause.
In a blink, every guard and expert from House Wagner poured into the melee. A ring of more than ten top-tier fighters clamped tight around Garrick.
The pressure on him doubled at once. After only 10 exchanges, the white-haired elder caught an opening and slammed a palm square into Garrick’s chest.
A torrent of blood burst from Garrick’s mouth as his body flew backward like a severed kite and crashed hard onto the ground.
“Father!” Vivian could not restrain herself any longer; she bolted from her hiding place like someone driven mad.
Garrick saw her and his features tightened. Mustering the last scrap of strength, he roared, “Vivian! Why are you still here? Go! Run, now!”
She dropped to her knees beside him, cradled him with trembling hands, and tears pattered onto this open wounds. “I’m not going. I’m not going… I can’t leave you behind… I have to stay…”
