Sovereign of the Nine Heavens

CHAPTER 7 — THE MONSTER INSIDE THE ARENA

The crowd stopped laughing the moment John stepped into the arena. A strange tension spread across the battlefield almost immediately, because something about him had changed in a way no one could fully explain.

Snow continued falling across the Sky Burial Sect’s mountain arena while thousands of disciples watched from the stone terraces above in uneasy silence. Crimson lanterns swayed violently beneath the winter wind, their blood-colored light washing over the battlefield like an omen.

John Carter walked toward the center platform at an unhurried pace. Too calm, far too calm.

The hunched outer disciple everyone once mocked openly seemed to have vanished completely. The exhausted cripple who lowered his gaze whenever stronger cultivators approached no longer existed. Now the crowd watched him carefully, with the same instinctive caution prey felt when sensing danger hidden in darkness.

Across the arena stood Elias Vane. Unlike his older brother, Elias possessed none of Derek’s arrogance. What radiated from him instead was something colder and uglier: Hatred, pure hatred.

Violent spiritual energy spiraled around his body while chains wrapped around both forearms. The weapons had been forged from black spirit iron, and crimson runes pulsed faintly between the sharp barbs covering every link. They were not weapons designed for a clean kill. They were designed to humiliate.

Elias smiled coldly as John approached.

“You look nervous.”

John gave no response. Outwardly, he remained motionless, but deep within him, the Void Scripture had already begun moving.

John hated how natural that sensation had become. The arena elder stepped forward and raised one hand high above the battlefield. “This match proceeds under death permission.”

Excitement swept through the crowd immediately, yet unease followed just as quickly. Even many disciples who despised John exchanged uncomfortable looks now, because Elias Vane’s reputation was infamous even among the outer court, cruel, violent, sadistic.

He was the kind of cultivator who enjoyed hearing bones break. The elder’s hand dropped sharply.

“Begin.” Elias attacked instantly.

The chains around his arms exploded outward like striking serpents. John twisted aside at the last possible moment, barely avoiding the attack before the chains smashed into the stone floor with terrifying force. The impact tore massive chunks from the arena platform and sent debris scattering through the air. Gasps erupted across the terraces.

Elias never stopped moving.

The chains whipped endlessly through the battlefield, cutting apart snow and stone alike while crimson spiritual energy howled around him violently. Each strike carried enough force to shatter bone instantly.

John retreated quickly across the arena floor. Fast, Precise, Careful. He watched every movement while waiting for an opening.

The Void Scripture sharpened his senses to an unnatural degree now. He could hear Elias’s breathing patterns clearly beneath the roaring wind. Tiny flaws in muscle movement stood out before every attack. He could almost predict each strike before it fully formed.

Yet despite that, Elias was still dangerous. One of the chains suddenly wrapped around John’s wrist. Pain exploded through his arm immediately. The barbs tore deep into flesh as Elias yanked backward violently, dragging John across the arena hard enough to crack the stone beneath him.

The crowd roared. Elias laughed openly.

“There he is,” he sneered while dragging John across the battlefield. “The cripple everyone remembers.” Blood streaked across the frozen arena floor behind John while agony surged through his shoulder. Elias stepped closer without hesitation before slamming his boot directly into John’s ribs.

A sickening crack echoed across the arena. John coughed up blood instantly. The spectators erupted again. Some cheered wildly, but others began looking visibly uneasy now, because this no longer resembled a tournament match. It resembled torture.

Elias crouched beside him with cruel amusement dancing in his eyes. “You should’ve stayed weak.”

John slowly lifted his head. Blood dripped from his mouth onto the snow while his breathing turned ragged. “No,” he said quietly.

His eyes hardened. “You just needed me helpless.” Something in his voice made Elias hesitate for the briefest moment, only briefly.

 

The disciple’s expression twisted immediately afterward. “Still talking?” The chains wrapped tighter around John’s arm, and the barbs dug even deeper into his flesh. Pain shot through his entire body while his breathing became uneven. Beneath his skin, the Void Scripture pulsed violently. Hungry Consume him.

“No,” John thought immediately. Luciana’s voice echoed softly inside his mind.

“He intends to cripple you publicly.”

“I know.”

“And you’re still holding back.” John clenched his teeth hard enough to taste blood because she was right. He was holding back, not out of mercy, but out of fear. He feared what might happen if he truly unleashed the scripture inside the arena.

Elias jerked the chain violently again.

John screamed despite himself. The crowd shifted uncomfortably now. Several disciples looked away entirely. Even Kael Drake frowned from the upper platform as he watched the scene unfold.

Elias leaned closer, his cruel smile widening. “You know what your problem is, John?”

His voice dripped with mockery.

“You still think this world has rules.” Spiritual energy erupted from the chains instantly.

Crimson lightning surged directly into John’s body. Pain exploded through every meridian at once. His damaged spiritual pathways felt as though they were being ripped apart from the inside, and his vision blurred violently beneath the assault.

The crowd roared louder. Elias was enjoying this. “Beg.”

John’s hands trembled against the shattered arena floor.

Beg. The word echoed through his skull alongside countless memories. Disciples laughing at him, Elders humiliating him publicly, Years spent kneeling beneath stronger people because weakness left him no other choice. Something inside him finally snapped.

The Void Scripture awakened instantly. Dark energy exploded through his meridians. The temperature across the arena plummeted so suddenly that frost spread across nearby stone.

Elias froze.

“What?”

John slowly rose to his feet. The chains still wrapped around his arm, but black veins now spread beneath his skin, while faint golden-black light flickered within his eyes. The entire arena fell silent instantly, not gradually.

Instantly, fear spread through the spectators like ice crawling across water.

Even Elias stepped backward instinctively.

John lowered his gaze toward the chains binding his arm. Then he grabbed them. The spirit iron screamed. There was no other way to describe the sound. A horrific metallic shriek echoed across the battlefield as black energy spread through the chains like corruption devouring flesh.

Cracks appeared immediately. Elias’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“That’s impossible.” The chains shattered. Fragments exploded across the arena floor. Complete silence consumed the spectators.

John slowly lifted his gaze toward Elias, and for the first time, the Vane disciple looked afraid.

Luciana whispered inside his mind. “There.”

John’s heartbeat thundered heavily in his chest. “The fear you wanted.”

No. He didn’t want this.

Did he?

Elias suddenly roared and attacked again in desperation. Spiritual energy erupted around him in violent crimson waves while dozens of broken chain fragments launched toward John like blades.

John moved once. That was all. The world slowed around him unnaturally. He stepped effortlessly between the incoming attacks before appearing directly in front of Elias. The disciple barely had time to react.

John’s fist crashed into his chest.

The crack of breaking ribs echoed across the arena like thunder.

Elias screamed as the force launched him backward hard enough to tear through multiple stone pillars before he finally crashed across the battlefield. Gasps erupted from every direction. Several disciples stood involuntarily in shock.

John stared at his own trembling hand. Too strong, far too strong, and worst, it felt natural now.

Elias coughed blood violently while struggling to rise. Hatred and panic warred visibly across his face.

“You…” he rasped. “What are you…?”

John stepped forward slowly while snow swirled unnaturally around him. Thin streams of dark spiritual energy leaked from his body like smoke. The Void Scripture pulsed again. Consume him. End this.

John clenched his fists tightly.

“No.” But the hunger only intensified.

Elias suddenly revealed a hidden dagger and lunged toward him desperately, aiming directly for John’s throat. Instinct took over.

John caught Elias’s wrist instantly. Then the devouring began.

Elias screamed. Pale spiritual energy poured visibly from his body into John’s arm while black veins spread rapidly across the disciple’s skin.

The crowd recoiled in horror. “What is that?!”

“He’s draining him!”

“A devil art!” Panic spread across the arena immediately.

Elias clawed desperately at John’s arm.

“N-no… STOP”

John’s eyes widened in alarm. He tried to let go. The scripture refused Hungry Hungry Hungry Energy flooded through John’s body like wildfire Strength Cultivation Life essence And beneath all of it Pleasure The terrifying satisfaction of overwhelming someone who once believed himself untouchable.

John hated how good it felt. “LET GO OF HIM!” An elder’s voice thundered across the battlefield.

Too late, Elias collapsed to his knees. His face had become pale and sunken, while every trace of spiritual energy had vanished completely from his body.

John finally tore himself backward violently. The connection snapped apart. Elias crashed onto the arena floor, gasping weakly, Alive Barely.

The entire mountain had gone silent. No cheering remained. No excitement, only fear.

John stood motionless at the center of the shattered battlefield while disciples stared at him like something inhuman. Even the elders looked deeply disturbed now.

The arena elder slowly raised his hand, though his expression remained tense.

“Victory… John Carter.”

No one applauded.

John looked around the arena slowly, and everywhere his gaze turned, disciples avoided eye contact. Fear, real fear, and deep inside himself, part of him enjoyed it again. That realization twisted his stomach violently.

Violence was becoming easy, natural. It felt as though the scripture itself was teaching his instincts to feed.

Nearby, Elias suddenly coughed up blood and laughed weakly.

John frowned. The dying disciple looked up at him through bloodstained teeth.

“You idiot…” John’s pulse slowed dangerously.

“What?”

Elias smiled painfully. “You really think this tournament was about revenge?” Cold unease spread through John’s chest.

Elias coughed again before forcing out the next words. “Someone paid me…”

His breathing weakened. “…to force you into exposing your abilities.” The arena became deathly quiet.

John’s blood ran cold.

Who? Before he could ask another question, Elias’s eyes suddenly widened in terror. A black needle protruded from his throat. The disciple convulsed once, then died instantly. Gasps exploded across the arena.

John spun sharply toward the arena walls. Movement.

Several dark-robed figures appeared atop the stone barriers like shadows emerging from nowhere. Masks concealed their faces completely. Assassins' pure killing intent flooded the battlefield instantly.

One of the masked figures pointed directly toward John before speaking a single sentence.

“Target confirmed.” Then the assassins leaped into the arena simultaneously, and every one of them came for John Carter.