Immortal Asura: Crushing the Heavenly Dao

The Three Day Deadline

"If you drop to your knees right now and beg for mercy, Lin Feng, I might leave your corpse in one piece for the crows," Elder Mo shouted, his voice echoing across the crowded square.

The morning sun had barely cleared the mountain peaks, but the grand arena was already overflowing with thousands of spectators. Disciples from every level of the Mystic Sword Sect packed the stone bleachers, leaning over the railings to catch a glimpse of the execution ground. A tense, heavy energy hung over the entire assembly as people pointed and whispered, their conversations filling the air with a low, chaotic buzz.

"Is the trash actually going to show up today?" an outer disciple asked his friend in the front row, adjusting his robes against the morning chill. "Or did he flee into the mountains like a coward during the night?"

"He has nowhere to run," the friend replied, shaking his head with a grim expression. "Elder Mo set trackers at every exit. If he stays away, they will hunt him like a dog in the wilderness. If he shows up, he dies on the stone platform. His path ends today regardless of what choice he makes."

Suddenly, a massive wave of dense, suffocating pressure rolled off the center stage, cutting all the chatter short. Elder Mo stood in the middle of the platform, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes flashed with a malicious light. He unleashed his full spiritual aura all at once, sending visible ripples of distorted air through the stadium. The raw energy was immense, forcing the weaker disciples in the front rows to gasp for breath and slide down onto their benches.

"Look at that pressure," a senior disciple whispered, his teeth chattering from the sheer weight of the elder's power. "He is not holding anything back today. He wants to terrify anyone who thinks about defying his authority."

"The boy is completely finished," another spectator groaned, pressing his hands against his chest to protect his own meridians from the crushing force. "Nobody in the outer sect can survive a single blow from an elder using his full strength."

Through the heavy, suppressed atmosphere of the arena, the sound of slow, steady footsteps began to echo from the eastern entrance path. The crowd turned their heads in unison, their eyes widening as a solitary figure emerged from the morning fog.

Lin Feng walked up the stone steps calmly, carrying no weapon. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his gray robes swaying in the wind. He did not wear armor, and he did not carry a sword. His face was entirely peaceful, completely unaffected by the massive spiritual pressure that was currently suffocating the rest of the crowd.

"He does not even have a blade," a spectator yelled out in sheer amazement, leaning so far forward he almost fell over the railing. "Is he completely insane? He is going to face an elder with his bare hands!"

"He must have accepted his death," a nearby disciple sneered, though his voice lacked conviction when he saw the steady look in Lin Feng's eyes. "He is just trying to look brave before he gets turned to dust."

Lin Feng stepped onto the main platform, stopping exactly twenty paces away from his nemesis. He looked at Elder Mo, his golden cosmic pathways humming silently beneath his skin, waiting for the signal to activate.

"You actually dared to step onto this stage, Lin Feng," Elder Mo said, a cruel, mocking smile breaking across his wrinkled face. "I must admit, your stupidity surprises me. I thought you would have died of fright in your little shack by now."

"I told you I would be here at sunrise, Elder Mo," Lin Feng replied, his voice clear, steady, and entirely devoid of fear. "A man must collect his debts, and you owe me three years of suffering. I am not leaving this mountain until our account is fully settled."

"You speak of debts?" Elder Mo hissed, his face twisting into a furious mask as he thought about his ruined nephew and his failed plans. "You are a piece of trash that should have died at the bottom of the cliff! You have ruined my reputation, you have crippled my family bloodline, and you have insulted the honor of this entire sect in front of thousands of witnesses! Today, your luck completely runs out!"

"My luck had nothing to do with it," Lin Feng said, stepping into a balanced stance. "Your nephew was weak, and you are corrupt. The heavens simply chose me to be the one who cleans up the garbage on this mountain."

"You arrogant little dog!" Elder Mo roared, his anger finally reaching a breaking point.

Elder Mo draws a flaming sword and charges, unleashing a wave of fire meant to vaporize Lin Feng on the spot.

The blade of the elder's weapon burst into bright, roaring orange flames that shot ten feet into the sky, heating the entire arena in an instant. The intense heat singed the hair of the disciples in the front rows, forcing them to scramble backward in pure panic. Elder Mo moved like a streak of burning light, his feet leaving scorched footprints on the solid stone floor as he closed the distance in a single heartbeat.

"Die in the fire where you belong!" Elder Mo screamed, swinging the flaming sword downward with all his might, aiming to cut Lin Feng completely in half.

The wave of fire exploded outward from the blade, a roaring torrent of pure heat and destructive spiritual energy that completely engulfed the spot where Lin Feng was standing. The spectators covered their eyes from the blinding glare, assuming the match was over before it had even truly begun.

"It is over," a disciple whispered as the smoke rolled over the stage. "He didn't even try to run away from the flame."

But inside the center of the roaring flame, a pair of golden eyes snapped open, completely untouched by the heat. Lin Feng stood firm as the fire washed over his skin, his golden pathways absorbing the wild energy and turning it into raw power for his own core.

"Is that all the strength an elder has?" Lin Feng called out through the smoke, his voice sounding like thunder. "You will have to try much harder than that to kill me."

Elder Mo froze in mid-stride, his face turning pale as he stared at the uninjured boy. "How are you not ash? What kind of monster are you?"

"I am the man who is going to end your reign," Lin Feng said, stepping out of the fading flames with his fists clenched tightly, ready to strike back.