In front of him was the same man who had been making his breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the last 10 years. A humble innkeeper, a doting father of two, and now, an enemy who had a sharp, pointy rock pointed toward Ling's neck.
"Uncle Feng," Ling Tianlei said softly, his brows furrowing. "Why?"
Feng let out a bitter chuckle. "Forgive me, little Lei. In this cruel world, I must survive. Even if it means staining the hands that fed me since you were young."
Ling took a shallow breath, steadying his posture as he glared at Uncle Feng straight in the eyes.
His sharp gaze was enough to cause Uncle Feng to flinch, and the moment it did, Ling didn't hesitate to raise his hand, swiftly steal the rock from Uncle Feng, and hurl it out of the pit.
"You still have a chance to live, Uncle Feng," Ling muttered, his faint smile cracking as his muscles slightly convulsed from the residual Qi still surging through his unprepared body.
But Ling was going to take his stand. "Surrender, and I won't have to take your life."
A dreaded silence followed, yet it only lasted a few moments before Uncle Feng charged straight for Ling.
He didn't want this outcome. No one did. However, due to their current circumstances, Ling had no choice but to reciprocate the malice.
Something stirred in his body, a sudden warmth that surged into his hand just as he threw his punch. It connected with Uncle Feng's jaw, and instead of merely dislocating it, the jaw shattered.
But that was not all, as Uncle Feng's head twisted backward. His wide eyes stared at Ling for a fleeting moment before his body dropped to the cold, hard floor.
Ling had accidentally killed him when all he wanted to do was knock him out.
He clenched his trembling fists, his jaw tightening. It was the first time he had ever killed a man, let alone someone he had known very well.
But before he could wallow in his thoughts, he heard a loud chime in his ears, prompting him to turn around in panic. However, there was nothing there.
Or so he thought, but his usually quiet interface suddenly flashed, revealing a surprising sight.
<+10 Qi>
"...?" Ling looked around, making sure he wasn't seeing wrong. Then, he opened his interface as usual, but he was met with pretty evident changes.
Name: Ling Tianlei
Lifespan: 100 years
Talent: Low-Grade Mortal Root
Cultivation: First Stage Tempered Body (Qi: 11/1,000)
Legacy: None
Bloodline: None
Physique: None
His Qi had gone up by 10, and totaled 11 now. It wasn't a lot by any means; however, the faint, warm swirling sensation in his Dantian had intensified.
He had never seen most of these options before, and if he had to guess, he'd reach the second stage of Tempered Body once his Qi reached 1,000.
But before he could ponder further, the familiar pressure of the Task Master engulfed him, causing the Qi that had been slowly destroying his body to calm itself down.
I forgot about it... Ling thought with a frown, clutching his throbbing muscles as he looked around.
Blood painted the ground, causing an unbearable stench to assault his nose. Corpses were littered everywhere, with multiple people triumphantly towering over them.
Ling stared at them cautiously as he walked backward. It didn't take long for him to reach the corner of the pit, and now, he felt like no one would ambush him.
Therefore, he did the one thing that might help him regain some strength. He attempted the basic breathing technique of the Thunder Sect, even if his realm technically wasn't ready for it.
He sat down in a lotus position, his bloodstained robes settling around him, and took a deep breath.
He took rhythmic breaths, syncing them with his heartbeat. With each passing moment, the Qi that had entered his body earlier began to settle, stirring faintly in his Dantian. After a few seconds, a soft ding echoed in his ears.
<+1 Qi: 12/1000>
So I can gather Qi... or maybe it's just what's left from earlier...? Ling sighed. Still, only one point? That's a bit disappointing. But I guess I only have my talent to blame.
He looked up from the lotus position and spotted the people still fighting far away. Noticing that no one was approaching, he decided to immerse himself for just a few moments.
<+1 Qi: 13/1000>
<+1 Qi: 14/1000>
<+1 Qi: 15/1000>
***
<+1 Qi: 24/1000>
<+1 Qi: 25/1000>
A few minutes had passed, and he had gathered 25 Qi in total. It was like a drop in a vast ocean, but it was a good start.
Ling stood up and took another glance around. The number of people had dwindled significantly. Likely, only a couple dozen were left.
No one had approached him while he was cultivating. In fact, it was almost like something was repelling them.
He had too many questions. Where was he? Why did his system interface absorb Qi from a dead person?
They were only fleeting thoughts, left to be unanswered.
Since Ling felt ready, he approached the center of the pit where most people were gathered. But just as he was planning on confronting them, a thundering voice boomed, causing him to fall to his knees and clutch his ears.
"Hahahaha! You have not failed me, fellow daoists!" the Trial Master stated, his voice inching closer.
"Out of 204 of you, only 59 managed to survive. It's a significant achievement. Be proud of yourselves," he added in a soft yet ominous tone. "To all who survived, you're going to come with me to a new place. A new beginning of sorts."
"Hmph, you kidnap us and you dare ask for understanding?" a lanky man asked, crossing his arms. "Let me free. I have places to be."
The Trial Master fell silent. Finally, the pressure Ling had felt dispersed, replaced by an eerie silence.
Yet that silence was enough for Ling to look up and glance at the Trial Master. The moment he did, his eyes widened.
The Trial Master wore a bone-white mask that had jagged fangs sticking out of the sides. More importantly, the left side of the mask was painted red.
Ling couldn't understand it at first, but as he looked down, he realized the Trial Master was clutching a heart within his grasp and glancing toward the person who spoke earlier.
But that very same person dropped to the floor, his expression one of total horror.
The Trial Master scoffed and threw the beating heart to the ground beneath him stomping on it and crushing it in an instant.
He brushed off his clothes and then glanced at each remaining survivor with his menacing crimson eyes. And in the same eerie fashion, clapped twice.
"58 of you have survived," he trailed off, taking a few steps toward the pit wall and tapping his finger on it. Immediately, a hidden passage revealed itself.
He turned around and tapped the frame of the opening.
"Those of you who wish to live a little longer, follow me."