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Tower of Myriad Immortals
Chapter 25: The Death of a Tyrant

Chapter 25: The Death of a Tyrant

As the Thousand-Fangs Viper Dragon staggered, the cultivators sensed their moment had come. With a collective roar that shook the very heavens, they summoned the last dregs of their qi for one final, desperate assault.

Do Joon-soo and Alchemist Joo spearheaded the charge, their movements a blur of deadly precision. Do Joon-soo's blade sang through the air, each strike slicing the exposed flesh of the viper. Alchemist Joo's hands wove intricate patterns, hurling bolts of elemental fury that seared and scorched.

Not to be outdone, Hyeol-Ran and her Hidden Path faction joined the fray. Their unorthodox techniques caught the monster off guard, daggers of shadow and qi-infused strikes slipping past its defenses.

The twin-headed abomination bellowed its fury, venom spraying from both maws in a lethal mist. Even weakened, its attacks could spell doom for the unwary. Yet the defenders pressed on, driven by a fierce love for their home and each other.

Joo-won, his muscles screaming in protest, unleashed technique after technique. "We've come too far to fail now!" he shouted, rallying those around him.

The air crackled with energy as cultivator after cultivator poured everything they had into this last, desperate gambit. Victory or oblivion – there was no middle ground left.

As the battle raged on, Alchemist Maeng Yeonji stepped forward, her silver fan gleaming in the moonlight. With a grace that belied the ferocity of the moment, she raised the artifact high.

"This ends now!" she cried, her voice carrying over the chaos.

With a single, fluid motion, she brought the fan down. The air itself seemed to bend to her will, coalescing into a blade of pure wind. It howled across the battlefield, a tornado condensed to a razor's edge.

The wind-blade struck true, cleaving through the Thousand-Fangs Viper Dragon's exposed flesh as if it were parchment. The beast's dual heads reared back in a final, agonized roar before collapsing to the ground with an earth-shaking thud.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then, as the monster's form began to crumble to ash, a ragged cheer rose from the exhausted cultivators. It started low, then swelled until it echoed across the ravaged landscape – a cry of victory, of survival against impossible odds.

As the adrenaline of battle faded, the true cost became clear. They had won, but not without sacrifice.

Joo-won sank to his knees, his body trembling with fatigue. Around him, others did the same, some weeping openly for fallen comrades. The victory was bittersweet, tinged with the knowledge of what it had cost them.

From the smoldering remains of the Thousand-Fangs Viper Dragon, a figure emerged. Alchemist Mang-Dok, once feared and powerful, now stood naked and trembling, his body barely able to support itself.

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His face twisted with fury as he hurled curses at the victorious cultivators. "You miserable insects! You've ruined everything!"

The cultivators watched in silence, their expressions a mix of grim satisfaction and unexpected pity. This pathetic creature before them seemed a far cry from the terror that had plagued their district for so long.

As dawn broke, the evacuated villagers began trickling back into the battered streets. Their eyes widened at the destruction, but a spark of hope ignited as they saw Mang-Dok brought low.

The fallen alchemist continued his tirade, spitting venom with his words where his dragon form no longer could. "I'll have my revenge! You'll all suffer for this!"

Suddenly, a small figure darted forward from the crowd. A young boy, his eyes burning with a pain beyond his years, scooped up a stone from the rubble. With a cry of anguish and fury, he hurled it at Mang-Dok.

"That's for my father, you monster!" the boy shouted, tears streaming down his face.

The stone struck true, and Mang-Dok stumbled back, shock replacing rage on his features. In that moment, the balance of power truly shifted. The tyrant who had loomed so large was now at the mercy of those he had wronged.

Alchemist Maeng Yeonji stepped forward, her silver fan still humming with power. Her eyes, usually calm, now blazed with righteous anger as she addressed the fallen Mang-Dok.

"You've written your own ending, Mang-Dok," she declared, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Your greed and lust for power led you down this path. Did you truly believe you could rule through fear and poison?"

As if her words had broken a dam, the crowd surged forward. Stones flew through the air, accompanied by shouts of anger and pain long suppressed.

"This is for my shop you destroyed!"

"For the nightmares you gave my children!"

"Monster! Tyrant!"

Mang-Dok, once the terror of the district, now cowered before the very people he'd sought to dominate. His naked form, covered in bruises and cuts, was a far cry from the imposing figure he'd once cut.

"Mercy!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "I only wanted to restore my clan's glory! To reclaim what was taken from us!"

As Mang-Dok's pleas fell on deaf ears, the fury of the crowd reached its peak. Stones rained down, each one carrying years of pent-up fear and resentment. Cultivators and commoners alike joined in, their voices rising in a cacophony of anger and justice long denied.

"This is for my brother!"

"For our homes!"

"For the peace you stole from us!"

Mang-Dok's screams grew weaker with each impact. His once-feared form crumpled under the onslaught, twisting and writhing until, with a final, strangled cry, he fell still.

Silence descended upon the crowd, broken only by ragged breathing and the soft patter of dropped stones. The Serpent Tongue Alchemist, terror of District One, was no more.

As the reality of their victory sank in, a wave of emotions swept through the gathered people. Some wept openly, others embraced their neighbors. The air, so long heavy with fear, now hummed with the first tentative notes of hope.

Joo-won surveyed the scene, his heart both heavy and light. They had won, but at a great cost. The district lay in ruins around them.

Yet as he watched families reunite and strangers offer comfort to one another, he felt a spark of optimism. The road ahead would be long and difficult. The shadow of Mang-Dok had been lifted, and in its place, the first rays of a new dawn were breaking.

District One had survived its darkest hour. Now, it was time to rebuild, to heal, and to forge a future brighter than any they had dared dream before.