As a colossal presence neared her, the Second Apostle's robes fluttered violently, and she unleashed the New Moon White Ice Dance.
CRACKLE...!
In an instant, an area spanning several dozen meters froze over, transforming into her domain. Although she was injured from her fight with the Fire King, she remained a formidable opponent. Summoning a snowfield from the North Sea, she braced for a surprise attack.
Almost immediately, though, she lowered her guard. Thanks to her heightened senses, she quickly identified the newcomer. "Number Four?"
Number Four, who had supposedly vanished without a trace, approached her stiffly.
The Second Apostle's sharp, upturned eyes softened almost imperceptibly, a faint but visible relief crossing her face. She only ever showed such a lapse in vigilance to her three closest friends. "I heard you disappeared. Why are you here?"
Instead of answering, Number Four looked at Yeo Min, who was held captive, and extended his hand.
The Second Apostle shook her head, misunderstanding his intention. "I'm okay, you don't have to help me. I can carry her with telekinesis..."
Before she could finish speaking, Number Four's hand moved with lightning speed, aiming for the Second Apostle's wrist.
A fight between peerless masters erupted at point-blank range.
SHWAAAA!
The Second Apostle immediately shrouded her body in a protective layer of icy qi, her instincts reacting even before her mind could register her friend's betrayal. The White Ice Divine Art's extreme yin qi was so potent that it could freeze a peak master instantaneously. Before she became an apostle, many Blood Cult masters had confidently closed the distance on her, only to be defeated, frozen in place before they could attack.
However, the Blood Cult's Fourth Apostle was different. Having trained his body until it was akin to a legendary weapon, he was one of the few martial artists capable of withstanding that frigid energy at close range.
KRAK! KRAK! KRAK! KRAK!
Number Four advanced, shattering the ice particles clinging to him with sheer force.
The Second Apostle's eyes widened. "You...!"
In the blink of an eye, he seized her wrist, forced her to release Yeo Min, and exposed her vulnerabilities. If she hadn't let him get close so easily, or if her right arm hadn't been injured, the fight would not have ended so one-sidedly.
Gritting her teeth, she glared at Number Four. She couldn't understand why a friend of decades had turned traitor. Adding to the confusion, Number Four was staring at her with red-rimmed eyes, as if he was about to cry.
THWACK!
A fist slammed into her abdomen. Ultimately, the incomplete defensive enhanced qi of her White Ice Divine Art was no match for the world's most powerful punch
"Just... why..." the Second Apostle groaned, struggling to lift her head and look up at Number Four even as her consciousness slipped away.
"......" Number Four silently met her gaze.
It was only then that she noticed another person approaching from a distance. Her skin prickled with the sheer intensity and power of the approaching presence, yet it felt somewhat familiar.
Number One? Number Three? No, this is even more...
The familiar aura stirred a memory so old it was almost forgotten, but before the Second Apostle could dwell on the memory, she blacked out and her body went limp.
Number Four carefully scooped her into his arms.
THUD!
Almost simultaneously, Baek Suryong landed behind him. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his voice far rougher than when they had first met.
Number Four did not need to see his former instructor's face to know the man's emotions were running high.
Baek Suryong alternated between confusion and fury. He had been heading for the gorge when he sensed two familiar presences and quickly changed direction, only to find Number Four cradling Number Two in his arms and Yeo Min lying on the ground.
Confirming that Yeo Min was unharmed and merely unconscious, he snapped, "I asked you a question. Why are you here? And that child...why is Number Two unconscious?"
Still, Number Four did not turn around, simply staring blankly at the face of his unconscious friend.
Baek Suryong's heart sank. "Don't tell me... did you attack her?" he asked, his voice trembling with the fury of an ancient demon.
Number Four remained silent. He looked at the Second Apostle, Number Two, his childhood friend and fellow disciple.
For a moment, her current face seemed to overlap with her younger self. The girl who had cried the most among the four had learned the White Ice Divine Art, turning even her tears to ice. Her soft, warm emotions had hardened into hatred and resentment, and with that, she had completed the unfinished New Moon White Ice Dance.
Even though she was unconscious, the remnants of the New Moon White Ice Dance lingered. Frost formed on Number Four's eyebrows, and his skin began to freeze. However, instead of pushing the cold away, he simply endured it.
"You shouldn't fight each other," Baek Suryong urged. He knew he had no right to say such a thing, but he couldn't bear to watch his former trainees hurt one another. "Aren't there only four of you left in the world? You're friends who stuck by each other through thick and thin. No matter what kind of lives you've led, you're the only ones who completely understand each other."
"......"
"This isn't what I wanted. I'd hoped that you would leave the Blood Cult, but I never wanted you to turn on your friends. I'd rather..."
I'd rather you struck my heart with that fist, because it would hurt a hundred times less than seeing any of you in pain.
Baek Suryong recalled the last expression he had seen on Number Four's face. That look, as if he had made a firm resolution, had plagued his thoughts. Even then, he never imagined that Number Four would become hostile to the Blood Cult and fight his other former trainees. Despite the fact that Number Four was the most reliable reinforcement in the world, he felt no joy at all.