Chapter 5 — The Spirit Beast I Adopted Is the Baby Demon Lord

My internal organs felt as though they had been violently wrenched from their moorings. Darkness surged at the edges of my vision, and a searing, relentless agony forced me to curl into a fetal position.

Fang Han Nuan, defeated!

The voice of the officiating elder echoed across the arena. Zhao Mang, shouldering his heavy battle-axe, strode toward me. He looked down from his height, his lips curling into a sneer of utter contempt.

Worthless trash remains worthless trash. No matter how many rats you kill, you will never transform into a tiger.

He lifted his foot, clearly intending to deliver a final, humiliating blow to solidify his status as the victor. But just as his boot was about to make contact with my broken body—

Roar!

A low, suppressed growl erupted, heavy with an overwhelming, atmospheric rage. It was like a thunderclap in a clear sky, exploding across the entire Training Grounds! The sound was not deafening in volume, but it carried a piercing, primal intimidation that defied description—as if it had risen from the depths of the nine netherworlds. In an instant, it silenced every other sound. The arena fell into a deathly hush. Everyone present stood frozen, stunned by the sudden, suffocating pressure radiating from that cry.

Zhao Mang’s foot hung suspended in the air. The triumphant smirk on his face calcified, rapidly transmuting into a mask of pure terror. He felt as though a prehistoric, feral beast had locked its gaze upon him, causing his very soul to tremble. A biting, frigid aura surged outward, solidifying like a sudden tidal wave of frost, sweeping across the fighting platform.

Every eye turned with horror toward the shadows beneath the stone steps. Ink Jade stepped out slowly. It no longer huddled in a ball; its small body stood rigid and upright. Each step it took carried a weight of authority that defied its diminutive form. Its grey fur bristled, though there was no wind. Its pitch-black eyes were now ignited with a dark, hellish flame—cold, ferocious, and brimming with the urge to annihilate everything in its path. It had Zhao Mang locked firmly in its sights. The very air seemed to congeal, an invisible pressure rendering everyone unable to breathe.

What… what is that?

A disciple stammered, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

A spirit beast? The pressure… the pressure is terrifying!

It… it is staring at Senior Brother Zhao Mang!

Zhao Mang’s face drained of all color, turning white as parchment, while beads of sweat the size of peas rolled down his forehead. Pinned by that gaze, he felt like meat on a chopping block, unable to move even a single finger. The shadow of death had never felt so tangible.

Vile beast! How dare you act so insolently!

A stern, commanding voice roared. On the observation platform, an elder with white hair and beard, draped in the robes of the Inner Sect, suddenly rose to his feet. It was Elder Xu, the overseer of this tournament, renowned for his rigid and severe nature. His eyes shot sparks of golden light, and the powerful aura of a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator erupted from him, attempting to suppress the chilling malice radiating from Ink Jade.

But Ink Jade merely tilted its head slightly. Its dark, flaming eyes cast a single glance at Elder Xu. That was all—a single look. Elder Xu was struck as if by a physical blow. He staggered backward three steps, his face flushing crimson instantly. His chest heaved violently, and his eyes were wide with incomprehensible shock. His own formidable aura had been shattered like brittle ice meeting the blazing sun.

The entire arena erupted in an uproar. A single look had forced back a late-stage Foundation Establishment elder? What kind of monster was this?

Ink Jade ignored Elder Xu entirely. Its gaze locked once more onto the bloodless, shivering form of Zhao Mang. A low, guttural growl vibrated in its throat, fraught with lethal intent. Its foreclaws curled, and its body crouched low. It was preparing to strike.

Stop, Ink Jade!

I screamed with every fiber of my strength, my voice raspy and shattered. Ink Jade’s movements jerked to a halt. The violent, destructive flame in its eyes flickered wildly at the sound of my voice. It turned its head slowly toward me. Within those eyes, the cold, savage foundation remained, but in the deepest reaches, a trace of agonizing conflict emerged—as if it were wrestling against some primal instinct.

Come back!

I clutched my agonizing chest, struggling to sit up, only to cough up a mouthful of blood.

Ink Jade… come back!

It watched the blood spill from the corner of my mouth, and the turmoil in its eyes intensified. The terrifying pressure and icy intent began to recede like a retreating tide, fluctuating violently. Finally, the hellish flames in its eyes extinguished bit by bit, returning to a deep, bottomless black. It emitted a soft, low whimper—a sound filled with an indescribable exhaustion and… grievance?

Without looking at another soul, it turned away. Its gait was slightly unsteady as it retreated, step by silent step, toward the high stone steps of the arena. It vanished once more into the shadows. The suffocating, soul-freezing chill dissipated along with it. The deathly silence of the arena thawed, replaced immediately by a thunderous roar of frantic speculation.

Heavens! What exactly is that spirit beast?!

A single glance forced back Elder Xu?!

That pressure… it was even more terrifying than the third-grade demonic beasts I’ve seen in the back mountains!

Is that something Fang Han Nuan raised? How could she possess such a thing?!

That thing just now… it looked like it wanted to kill Senior Brother Zhao Mang!

An evil creature! It must be an evil creature!

Elder Xu’s face was ashen, his chest still heaving—the backlash from his interrupted aura had clearly shaken him to his core. He glared at the stone steps where Ink Jade had vanished, his expression uncertain and wary. Finally, his eyes, sharp as knives, pivoted to me as I lay at the edge of the platform, utterly wretched.

Fang Han Nuan!

Elder Xu’s voice thundered with wrath.

What is the origin of that vicious beast? Seize her! Bring her to the Hall of Discipline for a rigorous interrogation!

Two enforcement disciples leaped onto the platform, their faces cold as they marched toward me. I lay on the ground, my chest in agony, blood still staining my lips. As I watched the disciples close in, my heart sank into the abyss. It was over.

The prison of the Hall of Discipline was frigid, reeking of damp rot and rust. Dim oil lamps flickered on the walls, casting distorted, swaying shadows. I was thrown roughly onto the hard stone bed.