Immortal Supreme: Sovereign of the Grand Dao

Chapter 179 Asura: A Battle to Celebrate Your Gains

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Deep within the heart of the forbidding cave, Crixus and Julius stood surrounded by an eerie crimson glow.

The stones they held emitted an otherworldly light, casting eerie shadows on their faces.

The air hummed with tension as they conversed.

Crixus smirked as he spoke, his voice low, "This tomb is the resting place of the Blood Sword Demon, an adversary of our sect generations ago. He was a renegade, rejecting the founder's teachings and succumbing to darkness, or to be more precise...the path of slaughter."

Julius's eyes had a glint of intrigue, "It is said that he had differing idealogies and left the sect as a result. But is that the true story I wonder?"

Crixus turned, his expression a bit playful, "Maybe. The Blood Sword Demon was one of the founder's early disciples, but his ambition and thirst for power led him 'astray'. He delved into forbidden techniques, embracing darkness."

"But the truth is, he found an ancient legacy..."

As they discussed the demon's history, a silence settled over them, punctuated only by the occasional dripping of water within the cave's depths.

After a while, they both understood that it was time to leave. They turned and left the cave, as their thoughts were filled with the gains from this exploration.

Meanwhile, Zaith moved with purpose towards the coffin that Julius and Crixus had recently left.

His steps were resolute, guided by the presence within him—an ancient power known only to a select few

As he pushed the coffin aside, an unsettling aura filled the air.

The form of the Blood Sword Demon's spirit materialized before him, a malevolent figure seething with anger.

"Who dares disturb my rest?!" The spirit's voice echoed with a chilling rage.

'Let me,' the voice spoke from within Zaith.

Zaith's eyes narrowed, and his thoughts synchronized with the being dwelling within him.

In that instant, his eyes turned crimson red, and his sclera went black, a manifestation of being's influence.

The being's power surged, temporarily eclipsing Zaith's consciousness.

"What?! How can it be possible...The power of the ancient demon...Asura-?!"

The demon's energy coursed through zaith, and a powerful ray of light burst forth, obliterating the spirit before it could unleash its full fury.

The room fell silent, and Zaith regained control over his body.

Asura's presence retreated, but not without a sense of reluctance.

Zaith's eyes returned to their original color, his thoughts his own once more.

"Tch...I didn't need your help."

'I know, I know...but I have move some muscles you know...even if it isn't mine, haha.' 

Though Zaith felt a twinge of dissatisfaction at being aided, he understood the practicality of the situation.

He walked forward to the now-revealed coffin. Inside, a withered corpse clutched a box tightly in its grasp.

Asura's voice resonated in his mind, "Open the box, boy. It holds what we seek.The true treasure and not that little toy that boy was all happy about, like he will be able to conquer the world with it."

"But that artifact will still be overpowered in this mortal realm," Zaith spoke.

"What do mortals matter?"

Zaith ignored him and with a cautious yet determined touch, he opened the box.

His eyes narrowed as he saw the object within—the key to unlocking more of Asura's power and strengthening his bloodline.

Carefully placing the object in his spatial ring, Zaith's expression remained unreadable.

He left the cave, with a sense of accomplishment in his heart as he thought of his next step.

'The Grand Martial Arts Tournament.'

Approaching the cave's entrance, he sensed a presence ahead—a presence that felt familiar.

Before he could react, one of them spoke, their voice echoing within the cave, "Come out, we already know you are there."

Zaith stopped in his tracks as he recognises the voice.

'That weakling called...um...Julio was it?' Asura said.

"Julius..."

'Oh, I see.'

Zaith remained in the shadows, his presence betrayed by the cold, controlled aura that enveloped him.

As he faced the unexpected confrontation, a thought nagged at Zaith's mind—how had they detected him?

It was as if his presence had been intentionally exposed.

A chuckle resonated within his thoughts, and he realized that Asura had deliberately made him visible to Crixus and Julius.

'Come on, things have been too peaceful and it's too boring.'

"You should have told me first."

'Well, surprise!'

"Tch!"

With a cold smile, Zaith understood Asura's intentions.

The demon reveled in chaos and conflict, and this was his way of celebrating their recent gains.

Zaith's demeanor shifted. His hand went to his face, summoning a crimson oni mask that concealed his features.

It was more than an accessory—it was a symbol of his power, an extension of his very being.

As he donned the mask, it seemed to meld with his form, transforming into a full body red armor that exuded a menacing aura.

Zaith knew no fear. Though Crixus had surpassed him in cultivation, and Julius was a genius in his own right, Zaith's nature and bloodline eradicated any sense of apprehension he might have had.

With a confident step forward, Zaith reached for his weapons—two unique blades connected by a chain, a weapon as ancient as it was lethal.

The chains of both weapons wrapped around his arms.

This was no ordinary weapon; it was a manifestation of an ancient artifact of his clan.

The atmosphere grew tense as Zaith emerged, his appearance and weaponry a surprise to Crixus and Julius.

Their followers instinctively reached for their own weapons, a show of readiness and determination.

Crixus's voice sliced through the silence, a cold inquiry tinged with suspicion, "Who are you, and what is your motive for invading the sect's secret grounds?"

Zaith's response was swift and resolute.

Instead of words, he launched into action, a sudden whirlwind of movement that signified the start of the battle.

*Swoosh!*

Zaith sends a strike straight at Crixus eye but Crixus stood with his arms folded, unmoving, and just as the blade was about to make contact, it was blocked.

But not by him.

A clash of blades echoed through the cavern, a symphony of metal meeting metal.

"Show some respect stranger!"

The one who blocked was no other than the Vice Sect Leader of the Blood Sword Faction.

"Since he chooses to attack rather than speak...take him down. No one attacks this Prince out of nowhere," Julius orders coldly.

The followers of Crixus and Julius joined the fray, launching their own attacks in coordination.

Despite their numbers, Zaith seemed almost untouchable.

His movements were a fluid dance of death, his weapons an extension of his will.

With every strike, he showcased a level of mastery that left even the seasoned fighters in awe.

Crixus and Julius stood back, observing the unfolding battle.

They exchanged a glance, their thoughts mirrored in their expressions—this person whoever he is was no ordinary opponent.

His prowess was undeniable, and his determination was evident in every move he made.

"Also...I can't seem to sense his cultivation level," Julius commented.

"Same, it must be the effect of the Artifact on him," a glint of desire flashes in Crixus' eyes.

'That armour would be a great match for me,' he thought.

Julius glances at him but said nothing about noticing Crixus' thoughts as he held no interest in the armour.

As a Prince he prefers something more noble and elegant.

The fight raged on, the clash of steel and the crackle of energy filling the cave.

Zaith's crimson armor glowed with an inner fire, his movements calculated and efficient.

As the battle continued, it became apparent that the odds were heavily skewed in Zaith's favor.

His adversaries' attacks were skillful but fragmented, lacking the synergy Zaith shared with his weapon.

In the midst of the chaos, Zaith's thoughts remained clear.

He was unyielding, unrelenting, and he held no qualms about facing an unfair or losing battle.

In his heart burned the determination to break the curse that had plagued his clan for generations.