Chapter 367: Attrition and Arrogance

The crowd hadn’t stopped screaming.

Damon stood in the center of the arena, his wooden sword resting on his shoulder, his golden eyes fixed on the Crimson Eclipse dugout.

He hadn’t moved from his position after the second kill.

In the Crimson Eclipse dugout, Kai’s jaw tightened. His fingers dug into the armrest of his chair, cracking the wood beneath his grip.

“Send the next one,” he ordered.

The third fighter stepped forward, a massive brute covered in bone armor that had been fused directly into his flesh.

Dark energy pulsed through the gaps in the plating, giving him an aura of decay and rot.

He was a walking corpse, kept alive by demonic arts and blood sacrifices.

He was also terrified.

Damon watched him approach, his expression unchanged.

The brute stopped ten meters away, his massive fists clenching and unclenching.

“Fighters, prepare,” Grand Marshal Vane announced.

The brute’s bone armor shifted, spikes extending from his knuckles.

“Begin.”

The brute charged.

He moved faster than his size suggested, his bone-covered fists aimed at Damon’s chest.

Dark energy trailed behind him like a shroud, leaving streaks of corruption in the air.

Damon sidestepped.

One step. That was all it took.

The brute’s momentum carried him past Damon, and as he passed, Damon’s wooden sword flicked out in a casual arc.

The sword caught the brute’s exposed neck, where the bone armor was thinnest.

The brute’s head separated from his shoulders.

His body stumbled forward three more steps before collapsing, dark blood pooling beneath him.

Three seconds.

Damon lowered his sword, his breathing steady, his expression unchanged.

In the commentator’s booth, the lead announcer’s voice cracked.

“That’s three. Three fighters eliminated in under ten seconds total. I don’t… I don’t have words for what we’re witnessing.”

His co-commentator shook his head slowly. “The Crimson Eclipse Sect is being dismantled by a single outer disciple with a wooden sword. A wooden sword.”

The crowd’s roar intensified.

In the Crimson Eclipse dugout, the remaining disciples exchanged terrified glances.

Kai’s eyes burned with cold fury.

“Fourth fighter. Now.”

A woman stepped forward, her body wrapped in dark bandages that pulsed with necrotic energy.

Twin scythes hung from her hips, their blades coated in a black substance that dripped and hissed against the stone floor.

“Young Master,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless. “Perhaps a different strategy—”

“Fight,” Kai interrupted. “Or die here.”

The woman’s jaw tightened. She nodded once and stepped onto the arena floor.

Damon watched her approach, his golden eyes scanning her movements, her stance, the way her hands hovered near her scythes.

She was fast. Damon’s golden eyes tracked the subtle shifts in her stance, the coiled tension in her legs. But fast didn’t matter. Not to him.

“Fighters, prepare,” Grand Marshal Vane announced, his voice cutting through the arena’s din.

The woman drew her scythes, the black substance dripping from the blades and hissing against the stone floor, leaving dark, smoking trails.

“Begin.”

She vanished, swallowed by a shadow that defied the bright arena light. The crowd held its breath.

Damon’s Incubus Celestial Eyes tracked her movement instantly.

She had used a shadow step technique, reappearing behind him with her scythes already swinging toward his neck.

He didn’t turn around.

He simply extended his wooden sword behind him, the blade catching both scythes at once.

The impact sent a shockwave across the arena floor.

The woman’s eyes went wide.

Damon twisted his wrist, and the wooden sword moved in a perfect arc, severing both scythes at the hilt.

The woman stumbled back, her hands empty, her weapons clattering to the ground.

Damon turned to face her.

She raised her hands to form a defensive seal, dark energy gathering around her palms.

Damon moved.

He appeared directly in front of her, his wooden sword already mid-swing.

The blade caught her across the temple, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious before she hit the stone.

Four seconds.

Damon lowered his wooden sword and looked toward the Crimson Eclipse dugout. His golden eyes cut through the shadows, meeting Kai’s burning gaze. The air crackled with tension.

“Send the next one,” Damon said, his voice calm and steady, carrying across the silent arena. The crowd remained frozen, the only sound the echo of his words.

In the Crimson Eclipse dugout, the remaining disciples had gone pale, their faces drained of color.

Fear radiated from them in waves, their hands trembling as they watched the monster on the arena floor.

They had seen four of their comrades fall in seconds.

There were three of them left now. The odds had shifted, and they all knew it.

They had started with seven fighters, each enhanced by demonic arts and dark sacrifices. Each one capable of matching a Heavenly Spirit Realm cultivator blow for blow.

And Damon had cut through four of them in under twenty seconds total.

With a wooden sword.

One of the disciples, a young man with dark tattoos covering his face, stepped back from the arena entrance.

“I won’t fight him,” he said, his voice trembling. “I won’t.”

Kai turned to face him, his eyes cold.

“You will do as I command.”

“No.” The disciple shook his head, his hands shaking. “You saw what he did. He’s not human. He’s a monster.”

Kai’s hand moved faster than sight.

His fingers closed around the disciple’s throat, and dark energy surged from his palm, consuming the young man’s body in black flames.

The disciple’s agonized scream tore through the arena, a raw, primal sound of pure terror and excruciating pain that echoed off the stone walls.

It lasted all of three agonizing seconds.

Then there was nothing left but a small pile of gray ash, drifting lazily in the still air, the only evidence of the young man’s existence.

Kai turned to face the remaining two disciples, his expression utterly unchanged, as cold and unfeeling as carved stone.

“Anyone else want to refuse?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion, a simple statement of fact rather than a question.

They shook their heads quickly, their faces pale with terror.

“Good.” Kai turned back to the arena, his eyes locking onto Damon’s distant form.

“Send the fifth fighter.”

The fifth fighter stepped onto the arena floor.