"Wakeyyy, waaakeyyy, ya lot who're still... hic... still alive! Heh... rise an' shine, ya lucky bastards!"
The Trial Overseer, still casually sipping from his bottle of alcohol, looked over the faces of the remaining participants.
These were the ones who had managed to endure the first trial—twenty-four hours of sheer survival.
Simple enough on paper, right?
Just last a day.
However…
Under most of the participants' eyes, the trembling hands, and the haunted expressions told a different story.
For them, it hadn't been just a day—it had been a lifeti of terror condensed into twenty-four brutal hours.
'What pussies…' Feng Shen thought to himself.
He sat cross-legged on the ground, yawning lazily, his expression one of utter boredom.
He had co into this trial expecting excitent, instead he found himself fattening his little piggy.
Still, it wasn't all bad.
Feng Shen had taken the opportunity to cultivate a little.
Even so, he couldn't help but feel disappointed.
As for Feng Shen, a few more kills would've made this so much more fun.
'Hopefully, the next trial is pure fighting…'
Once he had everyone's attention, the Trial Overseer grinned drunkenly, his unsteady smile stretching wide as he let out a wheezy chuckle.
A series of hiccups followed, interrupting his attempt to speak.
Still, the Trial Overseer pressed on, swaying slightly as he spoke, his slurred words:
"Nowww~ I know ya lot just... just dragged yerselves outta the first trial, buuut—hic—nooo breaks for you! Nope! So, listen up—hic—'cause we're divin' straight inta the next one! Here's how it goes, yeah?"
The Trial Overseer drank even more:
"You an' yer... yer 'peers,' or whatever ya call 'em, you'll be tossed in a big ol' pool, right? Then it's... hic... one-on-one! Fight to the death! Heheh, brutal, innit?"
Letting out another chuckle, The Trial Overseer continued:
"O' course, you can throw in the towel if ya want, but—hic—it's up to yer... yer peer if they wanna let ya live or... or snuff ya out. Fun, huh? Good luck, ya sorry lot!"
Without giving anyone a mont to protest or even comprehend, The Trial Overseer tilted his drink and let the liquid cascade onto the ground.
The shimring droplets seed to ripple unnaturally, and before anyone could react, an overwhelming haze enveloped the room.
One by one, they were swept away into a dream-like intoxication, their senses muddled and reality slipping into sothing far more surreal.
Sighing deeply, Feng Shen looked around, his gaze drifting lazily over. It didn't take long for him to realize that neither his personal servant, little maid, nor the Ninth Princess was anywhere nearby.
A small, barely noticeable smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
For once, Feng Shen wouldn't be subjected to their endless chatter.
It was a rare mont of peace, and he was grateful for it.
With a quiet shrug of his shoulders, Feng Shen closed his eyes for a mont.
He felt his mind slowly slip away, the edges of reality becoming soft and fuzzy.
Feng Shen allowed himself to be pulled into the dream-like intoxication.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
Seconds later…
Feng Shen slowly opened his eyes.
The world around him had shifted, and he was no longer in the familiar surroundings he'd known.
Instead, Feng Shen found himself sitting high in the stands of a colossal coliseum, its grandeur stretching far into the distance.
The sky above was a clear blue, with fluffy clouds drifting lazily by, and the warmth of the sun bathed everything in a soft golden light.
Below Feng Shen, in the center of the arena, was a large, floating platform.
It hovered in the air, suspended amidst the vast emptiness of space.
Around it, the endless sky stretched out, the horizon indistinguishable from the heavens themselves.
The stands were filled with a couple hundred people, all of them watching each other with sharp, calculating eyes.
Tension thickened the air, palpable and heavy.
Each individual was poised, hands tightly gripping the hilts of weapons, fingers twitching with readiness, as though any mont could ignite a violent spark.
The silence among them was unnerving, broken only by the occasional clink of tal or the rustle of shifting feet.
No one trusted anyone else—not even for a second.
Seeing all of this play out….
Feng Shen couldn't help but let out a small, amused chuckle.
He leaned back in his seat, one leg casually draped over the railing in front of him, as if he were lounging in the most comfortable of places.
Feng Shen's golden eyes glead with indifference.
He crossed his arms and tilted his head back, completely ignoring the sharp gazes that locked onto him from every corner of the stands
From what Feng Shen observed, it beca glaringly obvious that he had been placed among the strongest of the strong.
Every participant inside this place was at the Foundation Realm or the Nascent Realm.
Feng Shen's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
These were the elite, the top-tier competitors—each one a force to be reckoned with in their own right.
But Feng Shen wasn't fazed.
After all, to him, they were nothing more than insignificant ants—deluded into thinking they were strong, until they stood before a true giant.
Their entire world view will shatter, crushed beneath the weight of reality.
As the tension inside the coliseum reached its peak, a sudden shift in the air caught everyone's attention.
With a soft hum, a large, shimring holographic screen materialized in the sky above, its display glowing with a brilliant light that contrasted sharply.
Everyone fell silent, their eyes fixed on the screen as it flickered to life, revealing a detailed list of participants in this trial—each na accompanied by their rank and realm.
Imdiately, a loud, chanical voice of the countdown began echoing across like a drumbeat:
"3…!"
The energy in the stands seed to swell as everyone tensed in anticipation.
"2…!"
The participants, now fully alert, began shifting in their seats, fingers twitching over weapons, muscles coiling with readiness.
"1…!!!"
In the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Feng Shen was pulled from his seat, as if so unseen force had seized him.
He found himself standing on the floating platform, everyone in the stands staring down at him.
Feng Shen stood before a man cloaked from head to toe in a dark robe, so tightly wrapped around his figure that no hint of his shape could be discerned.
Only his dark red eyes—cold, calculating, and unwavering—were visible beneath the hood.
Yawning widely, Feng Shen lazily raised a hand to pat his mouth.
He stretched his neck with a deliberate, slow roll, the bones cracking.
As Feng Shen lowered his arm, his eyes glinted with amusent, his lips curving into a smirk that was both confident and mocking:
"Why don't you just end it yourself? It'll spare us all the trouble—don't you see? It's the kindest thing you could do."
No response…
"Ah~ co on, Jet Daoming~ Are you really going to make move? How rude! So RUDE! If I start killing... ah~ it'll be so much fun~ But then again, watching you kill yourself? AH! I can't decide! This is too exciting!"
Feng Shen's smirk widened as an unbidden excitent surged through him.
He was ready to spill blood.
"Ah~ can this stupid battle just start already?! I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY! DAMN IT!" Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire
Feng Shen's frustration grew as an invisible barrier tightened around him.
He tried to step forward, eager to engage, but each movent was t with resistance.
It was as if an unseen wall had ford around Feng Shen, a confined space just large enough to leave him feeling annoyed.
However…
It seed fortune was on Feng Shen's side.
Just as the tension in his muscles reached a boiling point and the invisible barrier pressed down on him…
A holographic tir materialized in the air, its numbers flashing brightly:
"3..."
"2..."
"1..."
"FIGHT!"
The mont the word "FIGHT" echoed throughout, Feng Shen's body surged into action.
Like a wild animal unleashed, he shot forward with such speed that the air around him seed to warp.
Feng Shen didn't even bother with Shadow Step—his Qi alone was enough to propel him with terrifying velocity.
His feet barely touched the platform as he blasted across, each stride fueled his own Qi.
"LET US FIGHT TO THE DEATH!" Feng Shen roared.
Still silent… In an instant, Jet Daoming reacted with lightning speed.
With a swift, fluid motion, he threw open his robe, revealing his bare skin.
A dense, ethereal mist began to pour out from the folds of the robe, swirling around Jet Daoming's body like a living thing.
The mist was thick, almost tangible, as if it had a mind of its own.
It moved with a purpose, enveloping Jet Daoming in a protective shroud that obscured him.
Feng Shen's body cut through the mist like a blade, his movents precise and unrelenting.
But the mont he arrived where his opponent had been, he was t with nothing but empty space.
The robed figure was gone.
Feng Shen's eyes darted around, his senses on high alert.
The mist now blanketed the entire platform, a thick fog that distorted everything.
"Ah~ co out, co out, my little friend~ Don't be scared~ I just want to talk... But oh, it'll be so much more fun if you don't!"
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