Heavens' Laughter

As the trial progressed, it became a revolving door of participants stepping onto the platform.

One by one, the fights unfolded with varying degrees of skill.

Yet, as the moments of decision came, an undeniable pattern emerged—99% of the participants chose mercy.

Something Feng Shen wasn't too pleased with.

His mood soured further with each passing fight, the air around him practically crackling with his growing disdain.

Feng Shen crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his fingers tapping impatiently against his bicep.

He couldn't bear to watch anymore.

The endless displays of so-called mercy gnawed at Feng Shen's very core, each act a painful reminder of what he deemed the pathetic state of the new generation of cultivators.

He scoffed under his breath.

"What a joke," Feng Shen hissed, his golden eyes narrowing into slits:

"No spine, so pathetic. Just weakness wrapped in the guise of righteousness."

Unable to endure the spectacle any longer, Feng Shen forced himself to close his eyes, slumping further into his seat.

Perhaps sleep would spare him the misery of watching yet another fool forsake a true battle for some misplaced sense of morality.

And with that, Feng Shen began drifting off to sleep, his body sinking deeper into the chair as the muffled sounds of the colosseum became little more than white noise.

His confidence was unshakable; there was no need for vigilance, no cause for concern.

Feng Shen smirked faintly as he dozed off.

Not that he expected anyone to attack him.

Feng Shen's reputation alone was enough to deter even the boldest would-be attackers.

And for those foolish enough to test their luck, his finely honed reaction time would make short work of any attempt to catch him unaware.

Feng Shen slipped further into unconsciousness… He was untouchable, untamed, and unbothered.

If anyone dared disturb his rest, they would learn the hard way just how dangerous a sleeping dragon could be.

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"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

"FIGHT!"

The mechanical voice echoed in Feng Shen's ears, pulling him reluctantly from his slumber.

He yawned, stretching lazily, his golden eyes fluttering open.

But the moment Feng Shen became fully aware, he felt something pierce through his chest.

His gaze dropped, his breath hitching as he saw a sword lodged deep in his chest, blood dripping steadily from the wound.

The crimson stain spread across Feng Shen's robes, and a chill ran through him, not from fear but from the sheer audacity of the situation.

He lifted his head slowly, his vision sharpening as he focused on the figure standing a short distance ahead.

There he was—the so-called "hero" from earlier, the one who had dared to challenge him, now gripping the sword with trembling hands and a look of both determination and fear.

Feng Shen's lips curled into an insane smile even as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth:

"Well, well, well... looks like you've mustered all your courage to pick a fight with little ol' me—the helpless, innocent guy who was just snoring away in dreamland. Bravo! Truly, a hero's work!"

Jay Chou yanked his sword from the demon's chest, the blade slick with fresh blood.

"Silence, you evil cultivator! You will die here today!"

Jay Chou stepped back swiftly, the metallic scent filling his nostrils as he steadied his trembling hands.

Gritting his teeth, he readied himself for another strike.

However…

'Run…'

Hearing his master's voice echo in his mind, Jay Chou froze for a split second, confusion washing over him.

Only moments ago, the same voice had urged him to strike, to pierce the demon's heart and end him.

Jay Chou had done exactly that—or so he thought.

Yet, the demon still stood.

'Master… you said to aim for the heart! I did, but… he's still standing!' Jay Chou's voice trembled in his thoughts, seeking answers as his confidence began to waver.

'Fool!'

Jay Chou heard his master bark back, his tone sharp and frustrated:

'Don't talk! Run!'

'But what about the trial!?'

'Who cares about this dumb trial!? We'll just enter you into another academy and call it a day! Now quit running your mouth and move those legs!'

Gritting his teeth, Jay Chou crouched low, his body sparking with electricity as he prepared to launch himself using Lightning Dash to escape.

But just as he was about to propel himself away, a shadow loomed over him.

Before Jay Chou could react, a hand shot out, swift and unrelenting, grabbing him by the face.

The grip was ironclad, crushing his momentum.

Jay Chou's blue eyes widened in shock as he felt the overwhelming force behind the hand.

He barely had time to process what was happening before he was hurled backward with inhuman strength.

Jay Chou's body slammed into the platform with a thunderous impact, the force so great it sent shockwaves rippling across.

The stone beneath him cracked and splintered, forming a spiderweb of fractures radiating outward from where he lay.

Dust and debris clouded the air as Jay Chou struggled to catch his breath, his vision spinning from the brutal attack.

His sword slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground beside him.

"Where do you think you're going~?" Feng Shen's voice was laced with mockery as he perched effortlessly on Jay Chou's stomach, pinning him down.

His golden eyes gleamed with a sadistic delight as he surveyed the helpless "hero", whose chest rose and fell in desperate gasps.

Before the "hero" could even attempt to move, Feng Shen's hands shot down.

He gripped the "hero's" face, forcing it upward, and without a moment's hesitation, began pounding it with merciless force.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Each blow landed with sickening precision, smashing against the "hero's" features, the sound of bone meeting flesh echoing in the still air.

Blood sprayed from Jay Chou's nose and mouth, painting the once-pristine platform in crimson.

His vision blurred with pain, and his senses were overwhelmed by the vicious assault.

Feng Shen began laughing. Striking without mercy. He made sure to hold back his strength in order to prolong his death.

He wanted this "hero" to suffer.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Over and over…

No stopping…

Jay Chou's vision swam, his body frozen in an agonizing numbness, every muscle screaming in protest.

His lips were swollen, blood mixing with the remnants of his broken teeth.

Each breath feeling like a battle against the crushing weight of despair that pressed down on Jay Chou from every angle.

His thoughts were foggy, the pain overwhelming as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

'Master… P-please… I… I need you…! I'm… b-begging you...' The words, though unspoken, echoed in Jay Chou's mind, each syllable laced with desperation.

He was on the brink of losing everything—the very ideals he'd fought for, his sense of purpose, his very life.

'Please... I can't do this alone...'

In that moment of sheer vulnerability, Jay Chou's mind reached out to the one person he had always relied on—the one who had taught him everything, who had shaped his path.

His master.

The old man who had always told him to stand tall, to fight for what was right, no matter the odds.

But now, in the face of overwhelming darkness, Jay Chou's faith faltered.

The fight was slipping away from him, and he needed his master's power, his strength to survive.

'…'

Silence…

No response…

The old man, inside the ring, his eyes focused, remained silent.

Suddenly…

An idea.

'I can take over this demon's body…'

The old man's lips tightened, his hands clenched into fists, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh the consequences of his decision.

It was a dangerous gamble, a risk that could expose himself.

But as he watched the struggle unfold, something inside the old man stirred.

'This is the right call… I've never been wrong before!'

A blue, ethereal figure left the ring.

The old man moved with an unnatural speed, as if he were a wisp of wind or a shadow slipping through the cracks of reality itself.

In an instant, Feng Shen felt the spirit enter him, a strange sensation washing over him.

His furious onslaught of punches halted mid-air, as his body froze.

"Ah~ what a fool~," Feng Shen muttered.

A slow smile spread across his face.

A disturbance deep within Feng Shen's mind, a flicker of foreign energy slipping into the very depths of his Sea of Consciousness.

His senses flared, and for a split second, he lost control of his focus, his connection to the world around him strained.

Feng Shen staggered as he instinctively reached up to clutch his head, feeling the pressure mounting inside his skull.

'Yes! It worked! Hahaha!'

The old man felt a surge of triumph.

His spirit had infiltrated the demon's mind, slowly taking control of the powerful body.

But then… it came.

A sudden, overwhelming flood of bloodlust, so intense that it felt as if the old man's very soul was being consumed by flames.

His eyes, once calm and calculating, turned a deep shade of red, burning with an insatiable hunger for violence.

The old man tried to resist, to fight against the primal urge to slaughter, but it was useless.

It overtook him like a torrent, drowning out every shred of reason he had left.

The old man's heart began to race, thudding in his chest with terrifying force.

His entire spiritual body trembled as if it were a fragile vessel, being crushed under the weight of the bloodlust that was flooding in from all sides. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

The old man felt it—felt the demon's memories invading his mind, chaotic and violent, twisted with rage and cruelty:

'What... what is this...? I can't... think... I can't... escape... Help me... Please... I... I can't... stop it… Mercy... I beg you... I can't... I can't bear it!'