Eternal Paragon Of Slaughter

Wang Ming walked in silence, his eyes half-lidded, concealing the anticipation and the dread beneath them. He followed Elder Wang Kai along with the rest of his batchmates. The sun hung heavy in the sky, casting long shadows as the forest thinned and a strange tension grew in the air. The atmosphere was unusually cold, despite the time of day. The silence was deafening, save for the rhythmic sound of footsteps on dry earth.

Eventually, the dense trees parted, revealing a massive pit carved into the earth like the maw of some ancient beast. Its edges were jagged, and a chilling wind howled from its depths, carrying with it the faint stench of rot and rusted iron.

Below them, inside the pit, countless iron-barred cages were spread out in concentric circles. Each one was filled with human beings. Some sat still with vacant eyes, some clutched their knees as if trying to vanish into themselves, and some paced like maddened animals. All bore the marks of starvation and neglect,their skin pale, ribs visible, and eyes hollow with fear. Guards in black armor stood vigil around the pit, cold and unmoving like statues of death.

The children, who had initially followed with anticipation, felt their expressions twist into confusion and unease.

Elder Wang Kai said nothing. His face betrayed no emotion. He simply raised his hand and gestured in silence.

The guards reacted immediately, bowing before disappearing down a staircase that spiraled into the pit. Once they were gone, a loud grinding sound echoed through the area. The stairs began to crumble and vanish into the walls, sealing off any path back down. At the same time, the cages began to open—one by one with sharp metallic screeches that grated at the nerves.

Then came the humans.

They stumbled out of their cells like ghosts released from the underworld. Some crawled on all fours, some dragged their limbs behind them, and others were flung forward by some unseen force that rattled their bones and slammed them onto the stone floor. Women with torn clothes, men with sunken eyes, the elderly leaning against the walls for support, and even children—small, frail, barely standing emerged from the darkness.

None of them screamed in pain. Not even those whose arms twisted at odd angles or whose heads struck the ground with sickening thuds.

Instead, they trembled.

Not from injury but from a fear more primal.

A few of them turned and ran back toward the cages, banging their fists against the iron doors, crying and begging to be let back inside. But the doors had already sealed shut. The cold metal offered no sanctuary. Some wept, others clawed at the ground, and a few simply collapsed, whispering prayers that faded into silence.

There were still more cages left unopened, their occupants watching the scene unfold through narrow slits-eyes wide with horror. Some sobbed quietly, others covered their mouths as if to silence their own breathing. They knew what was coming. They had seen it before.

Above the pit, the children stood frozen.

None of them moved. The once-eager expressions had vanished. All that remained were furrowed brows, pale cheeks, and confused eyes. Some whispered questions to themselves, others looked at each other in disbelief.

Wang Ming narrowed his gaze.

This wasn't just a test. It never had been.

It was something far older. Far darker.

Something that reeked of blood and broken spirits.