My System Devours Immortals

Broken Genius

Zhao Kun arrived at dawn with twelve disciples.

Cris stood in the training yard, waiting. He had not slept. His meridians hummed with faint energy. The ring was warm on his finger.

Zhao Kun stopped ten paces away. He looked Cris up and down, then laughed.

"You look worse than before. The pit didn't kill you, but it broke your face."

The disciples laughed. Cris didn't.

"I heard you threatened Wei," Zhao Kun said. "Broke his arm. Told him I was next."

"You heard right."

Zhao Kun's smile faded. "You're either brave or stupid."

"Both."

The disciples spread out, forming a circle. This was how outer sect disputes were settled. No elders. No rules. Just fists and cultivation.

Zhao Kun cracked his knuckles. Qi Gathering Fifth Layer. Three years of training. Talented. Respected. Everything Cris was not.

"I'm going to break every bone in your body," Zhao Kun said. "Then I'm going to throw you back in that pit. This time, I'll make sure you stay dead."

Cris raised his hands. "Talk less. Hit more."

Zhao Kun charged.

His first punch was fast. Cris barely dodged. The second caught his shoulder and spun him around. The third slammed into his back. Cris hit the ground hard.

The disciples cheered.

"He's stronger than you," the system said. "But he's arrogant. Let him tire."

Cris stood. Blood dripped from his nose. He wiped it away.

Zhao Kun grinned. "Still standing? Good. I want this to last."

He attacked again. Cris blocked what he could. Took hits where he couldn't. His body screamed. His vision blurred. But the ring pulsed with every strike, feeding him strength.

Then Zhao Kun made a mistake.

He threw a wild kick. Cris caught his leg. Twisted. Zhao Kun stumbled.

Cris drove his fist into Zhao Kun's throat.

The genius gagged. His eyes went wide. Cris grabbed his arm and slammed him into the ground. Once. Twice. Three times.

The disciples stopped cheering.

Zhao Kun tried to rise. Cris stomped on his chest. Ribs cracked. Zhao Kun screamed.

"Now," the system whispered. "Devour."

Cris hesitated. Everyone was watching. If he used the ring here, they would see. They would know.

But Zhao Kun was reaching for a hidden knife. A killing blow. Cris saw it in his eyes.

He grabbed Zhao Kun's wrist. The knife clattered away. Cris leaned down, close enough to whisper.

"You should have killed me in the pit."

Then he pressed his palm to Zhao Kun's chest.

The ring flared. Heat surged through Cris's arm. Zhao Kun's qi—his cultivation, his years of training—flowed out of him like water from a cracked jug.

Zhao Kun's eyes went wide. His mouth opened. No sound came out.

"Qi Gathering Fifth Layer. Technique: Iron Fist. Bloodline: None. Devouring."

Cris felt the power flood into him. His meridians blazed. The one percent repair jumped to five percent. Then ten. His body cracked and healed in the same breath.

Zhao Kun went limp.

Cris stood. The disciples stared. No one moved.

Zhao Kun was alive. Barely. But his cultivation was gone. His meridians were shattered. Just like Cris's had been three years ago.

"Tell your brother," Cris said. "Tell him I'm coming."

He walked away.

---

Elder Han was waiting in his quarters.

The old man sat by the window, watching the training yard. He had seen everything. His face was pale.

"You devoured him," Elder Han said. "In front of everyone."

"He was going to kill me."

"You exposed yourself."

"I survived."

Elder Han stood. His hands were shaking again. "Zhao Lei will come for you. He's Foundation Establishment. He could crush you like an insect."

"Then I need to be stronger."

"You need to leave. Tonight. Before Zhao Lei returns from his mission."

Cris looked at the ring. It pulsed with fresh power.

"No."

Elder Han grabbed his arm. "Listen to me, boy. You don't understand what you're dealing with. The Devourer is not a gift. It's a curse. It will consume you."

"It already has."

The elder's grip tightened. "There's a secret realm opening in three days. The Ten Thousand Beast Forest. Disciples from all sects will enter. If you go, you can grow stronger. But if Zhao Lei finds you first—"

"Then I'll devour him too."

Elder Han released him. Stepped back. His eyes were sad.

"You remind me of someone I knew. A long time ago."

"Who?"

"Someone who thought he could devour the heavens." The elder turned away. "He's dead now."

Cris walked to the door. Before he left, he spoke one last time.

"I'm not him."

Elder Han didn't answer.

---

Cris returned to his dormitory. His body was stronger. His qi was growing. But something felt wrong.

He looked at his hand. The ring was colder than before. Dormant.

"System," he said. "Why are you quiet?"

"The old man speaks truth. Danger approaches. I conserve energy."

"What danger?"

"The one who watched from the shadows. The one with red eyes. He is not human."

Cris tensed. "Where is he?"

"Gone. For now. But he will return."

Cris sat on his cot. The hunger in his chest was growing. But so was something else.

Fear.

He pushed it down.

"Let him come," he said. "I'll devour him too."

The ring pulsed. Weak. But alive.

"Good."

Outside, the moon rose over Azure Peak Sect. Disciples slept. Elders meditated. No one noticed the shadow that slipped through the outer sect.

No one noticed the figure standing at Cris's window.

The red eyes watched.

And smiled.