The Throne of the Devoured God

Learning to Hate

The passage of time in the dark is measured only by the changing faces of the men you have to kill.

Three months had turned the Scrap Iron Arena from a prison into a factory of slaughter for Lu Feng. Every single night, the heavy iron gates rolled open, and every single night, Lu Feng walked back into his dark cell with new blood on his knuckles and new souls trapped inside his mind. He had absorbed the master swordsmanship of a disgraced imperial vanguard, the flawless archery instincts of a blind desert hunter, and the silent stealth of a mountain assassin. His physical body remained a cold, unfeeling shell, but his brain was now a deadly library of martial arts, all perfectly integrated by the dark veins pulsing under his graying skin.

"Your footwork is improving," Elder Mo remarked from his corner, his voice sounding slightly stronger than it had weeks ago. He watched Lu Feng move through the dark, stepping across the stone floor without making a single sound. "You no longer move like a heavy brawler. You are beginning to flow like a true ghost. If you keep this pace, the guards will not even see the blade that cuts them."

"The swordsman I killed last night had good balance," Lu Feng said, stopping his movements and wiping a thin layer of cold sweat from his forehead. "His memories taught me how to distribute my weight on uneven ground. It makes the ghost style much easier to maintain. I can feel his decades of training resting in my own legs now."

"Good," Elder Mo nodded, the rusty chains around his wrists rattling softly against the wall as he shifted his weight. "But techniques are useless if you do not understand the world you are trying to destroy. You must understand how the empire above us maintains its power. They do not rule by bloodlines alone, Lu Feng. They rule because they control the Titan energy lines."

Lu Feng leaned against the damp stone wall, his eyes fixed on the old man in the dim light. "The energy lines? The same ones that fuel the palaces in the sky?"

"Exactly," Elder Mo explained, his wrinkled face hardening in the dim green light of the cave fungus. "The giant structures above us are anchored to the earth by massive, invisible rivers of spiritual power. The high lords tap into these veins to power their cities, their weapons, and their personal Titan souls. They pump the very lifeblood of the world upward, leaving nothing but toxic waste for the lower districts. If you want to cripple the empire, you do not just kill the leaders. You cut the lines that feed them."

"And the grand tournament," Lu Feng stated, his mind connecting the pieces of a plan he had been forming for weeks. "That is when the lines are most vulnerable, correct?"

"Yes," Elder Mo said, a grim smile touching his lips. "Every year, the nobles descend into the upper levels of the pit to watch the grand tournament. They bring their personal guards, their wealth, and their absolute arrogance. The spiritual barriers between the top districts and this garbage heap are lowered to allow their heavy carriages through. That is your only window to escape this hole. The security will be tight, but the system itself will be open."

"I am not just escaping," Lu Feng said, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper that seemed to echo in the small room. "I am going to burn the arena down on my way out. I will use the chaos of the tournament to overload the local energy lines. When the sky dwellers look down, they will see their precious playground turn into a furnace."

"It is a suicide mission for any ordinary cultivator," Elder Mo warned, looking closely at the boy's dark, webbed skin. "The sheer volume of raw spiritual power would shred human meridians like paper. But you do not have a normal core to burn out. The Titan energy will not find any spiritual life to tear apart inside you. It will only find an empty vessel."

"Then I am the perfect weapon for the job," Lu Feng replied, clenching his fist until the bones popped. "Let them come down here with their gold and their shiny armor. I will be waiting."

The old man went silent for a moment, his gaze shifting toward the heavy wooden door of their cell. The faint sound of trumpets and distant drums filtered down from the upper levels, signaling a major celebration in the imperial city above them. The vibrations traveled through the stone, a constant reminder of the world that had cast them aside.

"There is something else you need to know before the games begin," Elder Mo said, his voice suddenly dropping all traces of warmth.

"What is it?" Lu Feng asked, noticing the sudden tension in the old captive's posture. "Did the overseer change the schedule for the opening rounds?"

Elder Mo tells Lu Feng that Wei Xuan has just been crowned the Crown Prince after mastering his Sun Titan.

"The news just reached the lower guards," Elder Mo continued, his eyes locked onto Lu Feng's freezing expression. "Your brother completed the final ritual. He fully subdued the beast that they stole your blood to feed. The entire upper district is throwing a festival in his honor while you rot down here in the dirt. They are calling him the savior of the lineage."

Lu Feng did not speak, but the black veins across his chest flared with a violent, terrifying purple light. The numbness in his body did not stop the pure, unfiltered hatred from rising in his throat, hot and choking. The image of his brother's smiling face flashed in his mind, juxtaposed against the filthy floor of the pit.

"Let him wear the crown," Lu Feng whispered, his voice shaking the loose gravel on the floor. "It only makes his neck a bigger target."

"He will be stronger than before," Elder Mo warned, his voice grave. "The power of a fully realized Sun Titan can melt solid iron. You cannot face him with simple gladiator tricks."

"I have twenty years of Hog's brutality, an assassin's stealth, and your ghost style," Lu Feng said, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "By the time the tournament starts, I will have swallowed every master this arena has to offer. My brother might have the sun, but I have the dark."

"Then we must quicken your training," Elder Mo said, his chains clashing violently as he straightened his back. "Tomorrow, the arena will throw their best veterans at you to test your worth for the main stage. You must kill them quickly and take everything they know."

"They will not even see it coming," Lu Feng replied, stepping back into the shadows of the cell. "The empire taught me how to hate, and now I am going to teach them how to bleed."

"Keep that fire hidden," the old man advised. "Let them see only a mindless beast in the cage. The more they underestimate the trash, the harder they will fall when the lines snap."

Lu Feng nodded slowly, his silhouette completely disappearing into the absolute blackness of the corner. "The nobles want entertainment. I will give them a show that ends their empire."