Immortal Asura: Crushing the Heavenly Dao

Debt Collection

"You should have stayed dead in the dirt where we threw you, trash," a harsh voice muttered as the heavy wooden door creaked open on its rusted hinges.

The outer sect shacks were completely silent under the cover of a pitch black, moonless night. Inside Lin Feng's tiny, damp room, a single torch flickered on the stone wall, casting long, dancing shadows across the broken furniture. A tall, muscular disciple named Zhao Kang stepped inside, his heavy leather boots kicking a shattered wooden stool across the floor. He began tossing Lin Feng's few remaining blankets and small medicine jars into a leather sack, looking for anything left of value that he could sell to the lower disciples.

"Looking for something specific, Zhao Kang?" a cold voice asked from the dark corner behind the door.

Zhao Kang jumped, nearly dropping his sack as he spun around. His eyes widened in absolute surprise as Lin Feng stepped slowly out of the deep shadows. The golden light in Lin Feng's eyes was faint, but it shone with an icy, terrifying intensity that had never been there before.

"How are you still breathing?" Zhao Kang stammered, his hand instinctively dropping down to the hilt of his iron sword. "Young Master Wang beat you half to death, and the trackers said you fell off the cliff into the abyss. You look completely fine. Your face is healed. What kind of dark magic did you use to mend those broken bones?"

"The abyss was very welcoming to me," Lin Feng said, taking a slow step forward on the creaking floorboards. "It gave me exactly what I needed to settle my accounts. Let us start with the things you and your friends stole from me over the last three years."

Zhao Kang quickly recovered from his initial shock, his face twisting into a familiar, arrogant sneer as he stepped closer. "You think a few hours in the woods makes you a master? You are still just a piece of trash with broken spiritual roots. I do not know how you survived the fall, but I am going to enjoy breaking your other arm right now. You have no right to speak to me like an equal."

"You can try," Lin Feng replied, standing completely still with his arms hanging loosely at his sides. "But I promise you, the result will not be the same as yesterday. The weak boy you bullied is no longer here."

"Shut your mouth!" Zhao Kang roared, pulling his right fist back. "I will show you your place!"

The bully laughs and throws a lethal punch, but Lin Feng catches his fist with a single bare hand, snapping his fingers like dry twigs.

A horrific scream tore through the quiet shack as Zhao Kang dropped straight to his knees, clutching his ruined hand against his chest. "My hand! You broke my fingers! How do you have this much raw strength? You are supposed to be a cripple!"

"This is only the beginning of what you owe me," Lin Feng said, looking down at the groveling disciple without a single hint of mercy in his voice. "Where are the spirit stones you took from my shack last week?"

"I don't have them!" Zhao Kang wept, his face turning pale from the intense pain. "I spent them all on cultivation pills! Please, Lin Feng, stop! I will give you anything else! Just do not kill me!"

"Then your cultivation base will have to pay the difference," Lin Feng whispered, his eyes flashing with a dangerous gold light.

He reached down and gripped Zhao Kang's shoulder tightly. Black smoke instantly erupted from Lin Feng's palm, coiling around the bully's neck. Zhao Kang's eyes rolled back as a violent tremor shook his entire frame. He tried to scream for help, but the dark energy choked the sound right in his throat. Lin Feng felt the stolen spiritual energy rushing through his own arm, feeding his golden cosmic pathways and making his core expand even further.

"What are you doing to me?" Zhao Kang gasped out, his voice incredibly weak as his muscles began to sag. "My energy, it is disappearing into your hand. Stop it, please! My meridians are collapsing!"

"I am just taking back what you used my resources to build," Lin Feng said, releasing his grip as the bully collapsed onto the floor like a sack of wet flour. "Now, get out of my sight before I decide to turn you into ash."

Zhao Kang crawled backward toward the open door, weeping and gasping for air, his cultivation entirely gone. He was nothing but an ordinary mortal now, weak and completely broken.

"Young Master Wang will kill you for this," Zhao Kang whimpered, dragging his useless body over the wooden threshold. "He will find out what you did to me at the morning assembly."

"Tell him I am waiting for him," Lin Feng said, closing the heavy wooden door with a loud thud.

The room fell silent once again. Lin Feng sat down on his wooden bed, closing his eyes to let the newly stolen energy settle into his gold pathways. He could feel his power rising rapidly, moving closer to the next major cultivation realm.

"You handled that well, boy," the ancient voice echoed in his mind. "But the real challenge is tomorrow. The outer sect tournament will bring out the strongest disciples."

"Let them come," Lin Feng whispered into the dark room, his fists tightening. "I am going to take everything they have."

"Do not grow too arrogant," the voice warned him. "Wang Chen possesses a higher stage of cultivation than this weakling. You must refine the energy you just took."

"I know," Lin Feng said, crossing his legs and entering a deep meditation state. "I will be ready for him when the sun rises."

He spent the remaining hours of the night channeling the stolen energy through his golden roots. Every breath he took felt lighter, and the power hidden within his muscles grew denser. By the time the morning horn sounded across the mountain, Lin Feng opened his eyes, which were now glowing with an undeniable, fierce intensity.

He stood up, adjusted his black outer disciple robes, and walked out into the morning light. The path to the training square was crowded with disciples, all talking excitedly about the upcoming matches. None of them noticed Lin Feng walking among them until he reached the registration desk.

"Name?" the elder at the desk asked without looking up.

"Lin Feng," he replied clearly.

The elder stopped writing and looked up, his jaw dropping in surprise. "Lin Feng? You are still alive? Elder Mo said you perished in the mountains."

"As you can see, I am very much alive," Lin Feng said, a cold smile playing on his lips. "And I am here to claim my spot in the arena."

"This must be a mistake," a loud voice shouted from behind him.

Lin Feng turned to see Wang Chen walking toward him, surrounded by a group of wealthy disciples. Wang Chen looked at Lin Feng as if he were looking at a ghost.

"How are you standing here?" Wang Chen demanded, his face twisting in anger. "You should be rotting at the bottom of the cliff."

"The heavens did not want me yet, Young Master Wang," Lin Feng said, his tone perfectly calm. "They told me I had some unfinished business to take care of."

"You dare speak to me with such disrespect?" Wang Chen hissed, stepping into Lin Feng's space. "I do not care how you survived. If you step onto that stage today, I will make sure you never walk again."

"I look forward to seeing you try," Lin Feng said, turning his back on the group and walking toward the waiting area.

"He is dead," Wang Chen whispered to his followers, his knuckles turning white. "Make sure he fights one of our men in the first round. I want him crushed before the elders notice anything strange."

Lin Feng sat on a stone bench, watching the matches begin. The crowd roared as disciples clashed with swords and spiritual techniques. He could feel the anticipation building inside his chest. His gold pathways were screaming for a real fight, and he was more than ready to give them one.