"That's impossible!" Jay Chou exclaid, his voice tinged with both shock and indignation.
For a mont, he stood frozen, unable to fathom the audacity of the demon before him.
The feeling of being so openly looked down upon stirred a fire deep within Jay Chou, his teeth grinding as his resolve hardened.
This arrogance would not stand.
Jay Chou's pride demanded retribution, and his heart burned with a fierce determination to prove the futility of such unorthodox thods.
He would make this demon understand the vast chasm that separated Heaven from Earth—a lesson he would never forget.
"I challenge you to a life-and-death battle!" Jay Chou roared, his voice echoing with unrelenting fury.
As he spat the words, his defiance was made tangible, his spit landing just before the demon he faced.
Jay Chou's chest heaved with righteous indignation.
His heart burned with a singular purpose—to cleanse the cultivation world of selfish parasites like this, whose only concern was their own gain.
This battle wasn't just for honor; it was for the very soul of the world Jay Chou sought to protect.
Laughing softly, Feng Shen rose to his feet, his every movent unhurried.
His gaze settled on the young man before him, the so-called "hero" who dared challenge him.
With a smirk that brimd with condescension, Feng Shen took slow, deliberate steps forward, his presence growing heavier with each one.
Stopping just inches away, he lood over the young man, his shadow casting a suffocating weight.
"Hmm~…"
Leaning in close, Feng Shen's lips brushed the edge of the young man's ear as he whispered, each word sharp and cutting:
"Sit. Down. Right. Now. Boy."
"How dare yo—!?"
Jay Chou, ready to hurl another defiant retort, froze mid-breath as his gaze t those golden eyes.
They pierced through him like daggers, radiating an unyielding hatred that seeped into his very core.
There was no trace of compassion or humanity in those eyes—only an abyss of negativity consuming everything in its path.
The overwhelming darkness left no room for light, no space for goodness.
Jay Chou felt a chill run down his spine as if he were staring into the heart of despair itself, and for the first ti, his confidence wavered.
He crumbled.
Without uttering another word, Jay Chou sank heavily into the seat he had been standing over, his legs giving out as if the strength had been drained from his body.
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His back hit the seat with a dull thud, the impact jarring but secondary to the turmoil swirling within him.
Staring blankly into the air, Jay Chou's mind raced for answers, for words—anything—but nothing ca.
For the first ti, he was utterly lost, unsure of what to say or do in the face of such overwhelming force.
"Glad you understand, boy~" Feng Shen drawled, his voice dripping with mocking amusent:
"Would've been quite a ss if blood got everywhere in the stands~."
Feng Shen let out another low laugh.
Without sparing the young man another glance, he turned on his heel.
Feng Shen strolled back to his seat, reclining comfortably, but not before casting a brief, piercing glance at the ring.
'That boy is indeed interesting~.'
Once again, the holographic screen materialized in the sky above.
"Onto the next match!!!"
"3…!"
"2…!"
"1…!"
As the next fight began to stir, Feng Shen yawned.
His golden eyes flicked over to the platform.
With a lazy wave of his hand, Feng Shen's voice was a low murmur as he muttered to himself, "Let's see so blood... no rcy…"
Jay Chou's light blue eyes slowly trailed over to the back of the demon's head, his gaze filled with a mix of simring resentnt and wounded pride.
The mory of being so thoroughly humiliated burned in his mind, the weight of his sha pressing heavily on his chest.
'I have brought dishonor to the Fated Clan…' The thought resounded in Jay Chou's mind like a bitter refrain.
The legacy he had sworn to uphold now felt tarnished, and the sting of his failure cut deeper than any blade.
Yet, beneath the sha, a spark of determination flickered—a quiet vow that this would not be the end.
'Little Chou, listen to ! Do not dwell on it—do not even think about it. That man... that demon... he is no ordinary foe. There is sothing... wrong about him. Sothing that defies reason, that chills even my soul. Stay away from him! You must not get involved with that man—promise !'
Glancing downward at the ring on his finger, Jay Chou's eyes narrowed as he heard his master's voice echo in his mind.
The words rang out with an unexpected authority, and a bitter frustration bubbled up inside him.
Jay Chou clicked his tongue in annoyance, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet mont.
He had never anticipated hearing such words from the old man—the one who had raised him, molded him into the hero he was today.
Jay Chou's entire life, he had been taught to fight against evil, to stand against the darkness no matter the cost, to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
But now, those sa teachings seed to clash with his current reality.
'Master! You can't be serious! You must be joking!' Jay Chou's mind scread in disbelief, the words echoing with a surge of indignation.
He felt a sharp stab of betrayal, as if the very foundation of his beliefs had been shattered.
'How could you say this, Master?'
The weight of it pressed down on Jay Chou like a thousand tons, the voice of his master now a distant murmur that seed so out of place.
'It is my destiny to cleanse the cultivation world of all evil! To beco the protector!'
Jay Chou's heart pounded with the righteousness he had always believed in.
He couldn't just stand by.
Jay Chou couldn't let this demon get away with what he had done.
Not now. Not ever. No matter the cost.
Even if the fight wasn't ant for today, Jay Chou would fight.
He would rise up and strike back.
Jay Chou couldn't allow this demon to harm anyone else—not on his watch.
'You stupid, stupid fool!'
Jay Chou heard his master's voice ring out, sharp and laced with frustration, as if the old man were standing right beside him.
'I have raised you to be righteous, not dumb!'
The words sliced through Jay Chou like a whip, stinging his pride.
The fury in his heart faltered for a mont as he tried to process the harsh reprimand.
'That man you want to fight... is out of your league—not in terms of cultivation level, but in experience!'
The truth hit Jay Chou like a cold splash of water.
'Be good and stay quiet!'
The weight of his master's words hung in the air, suffocating his rebellious spirit.
Jay Chou's jaw clenched as he fought the urge to defy, to act impulsively, but deep down, he knew the old man was right.
Right now, he was outmatched.
Suddenly…
The chanical voice resounded throughout:
"Ge You has been DEFEATED!"
"Spare or kill?"
Feng Shen shot up from his seat, his face contorted with an almost manic excitent.
"KILL! KILL! KILL! DON'T BE A PUSSY! RIP OUT HIS HEART! DRINK HIS BLOOD!" His voice roared through the air, each word a guttural command, dripping with sadistic delight:
The stands grew tense, an uneasy silence settling over.
Most of the people instinctively recoiled, their discomfort palpable.
Most shifted uncomfortably, stepping back wherever they could, trying to distance themselves from the madman.
On the platform, however, the winner stood tall, unmoved by the insane words.
He did not succumb to the bloodlust.
The winner's gaze remained steady, his expression somber as he looked down at his fallen opponent.
With a deep breath, he made his choice—rcy.
And so, the chanical voice rang out:
"Deng Chao has chosen SPARE!"
"BOOOO!!!" Feng Shen's voice cut through, a loud, mocking jeer.
His finger was pointed downward, a clear symbol of his disdain for the outco.
"How weak!" Feng Shen snarled:
"What a pathetic display! You've given your opponent rcy, but what about yourself? You think this is a ga of kindness?"
Feng Shen's words dripped with scorn, and he paced in front of his seat, clearly displeased with the lack of bloodshed.
To him, the fight had been nothing more than a waste of ti—too much honor, too little destruction.
Deng Chao rolled his eyes as he extended a hand to his defeated opponent, offering a lifeline.
The choice was clear: where madness called for blood; he chose compassion.
Seeing this, Feng Shen sighed deeply, his expression one of exaggerated disbelief.
He plopped back into his seat with a huff, shaking his head in disgust:
"I swear, the younger generation has beco too kind. Where's the competition? Back in my day, it was kill or be killed! Now everything has gone soft."
Feng Shen shook his head once more.
He stared at the two n who had just fought.
Now, back in the stands, their faces still marked by the remnants of battle, they seed so small, so insignificant to Feng Shen:
"No heart, no fire, no true n left. Just a bunch of weaklings. Disgraceful."
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