Chapter: The Arena of Judgment
The sky above the Demon Cult turned crimson as if reflecting the bloodline duel about to unfold. Thousands gathered in the colossal arena—elders, guardians, disciples, and even hidden clan masters who rarely showed their faces. And at the highest seat, shrouded in mist and divine pressure, sat the Demon Lord himself, eyes closed, yet fully aware.
Two figures entered the arena from opposite gates.
On the right—Crimson Ghost Elder, one of the strongest known Grandmaster, walked in silence. His crimson robes fluttered despite no wind. But unlike his usual arrogance, today his steps were heavy. For the first time in decades, he felt… fear.
Fear of the boy he had once discarded.
The boy named Riku.
On the left—Riku, adorned in sleek black armor with a blade that hummed with the force of all five elements. His calm face showed no hatred, no rage—only resolve. The wind itself parted for him, sensing the authority in his steps.
As they met in the center, the audience held its breath.
Crimson Ghost's lips curled. "I see the child has returned with teeth."
Riku's swirled slowly. "I'm no child. I am the blade you tempered in fire and cast aside. And now, I give you three moves. That's all."
Gasps erupted across the arena. Even the Demon Lord opened one eye in mild surprise.
Crimson Ghost's face twitched. "You dare mock me, boy?"
Riku unsheathed his blade and pointed it at him. "Three moves. Use them wisely. There won't be a fourth."
The Demon Lord raised his hand. "Begin."
---
First Move.
Crimson Ghost vanished in a blink, reappearing above Riku, launching a rain of poisoned needles imbued with Qi that could pierce stone. Riku calmly spun his blade-
Making qi barrier around his body and stoping it making everyone shocked .
Not a single one touched him.
"That's one," Riku said coldly.
Second Move.
Snarling, Crimson Ghost activated his forbidden technique—Phantom Serpent Qi—a sinuous aura that strangled opponents, attacking their meridians. Riku stepped forward, letting the tendrils wrap around him—and then they shattered as Rainbow Qi exploded from his body, infused with Sage Energy and tempered in seclusion.
Even Crimson Ghost stumbled back.
"Two."
Third Move.
Desperate now, Crimson Ghost threw a vial to the ground. A dark miasma enveloped the arena—it was Tang Clan's Thousand Death Poison. Even the audience reeled as it spread.
But Riku didn't move. Instead, he raised two fingers and whispered,
"I have immunity for poisons."
A radiant light exploded from his body, erasing the poison like dawn erases shadow.
Crimson Ghost stood trembling. "Impossible…"
"Three," Riku said, stepping forward.
Now, it was his turn.
---
Riku raised his sword, chakra and qi intertwining like dragons. The blade extended with Wood, Fire, Wind, Lightning, and Earth energy, forming the Celestial Blade of Judgment.
"You taught me how to survive cruelty. Let me return the favor."
With a flicker, he appeared behind Crimson Ghost—one slash echoed through time.
The elder gasped. Blood burst from his chest. He turned slowly, eyes wide.
"Wh—what technique…"
Riku whispered, "A gift from your bastard son."
Then came the pain. Fuinjutsu seals lit up across Crimson Ghost's body, locking his meridians, severing his dantian, and paralyzing his limbs.
"I will not let you die as a warrior. You die like the coward who tried to kill his son."
With a final move, Riku struck his heart—not to kill—but to let his body collapse from within.
Crimson Ghost fell to his knees, choking on silence. His pride shattered. And as he slumped over, the crowd stood in frozen awe.
---
The Demon Lord rose from his seat, eyes shining with emotion.
"From today onward," his voice boomed across the heavens,
"Riku shall be named the Successor of the Demon Cult. The next Demon Lord!"
Roars erupted. The ground trembled with cheers. Even the other council members bowed their heads in acknowledgment.
Riku, however, looked up only at the sky.
In his heart, he whispered,
"Original riku, I have avenged your pain. And now, I rise not to rule… but to protect."
And thus, in the blood-soaked arena of the damned, the legend of Riku the Successor began.
The moment the Demon Lord's words echoed through the arena, silence reigned—before erupting into a storm of cheers, disbelief, and raw emotion.
But beneath the thunderous roars, within hearts and minds, something deeper stirred—fear, admiration, and for a few... jealousy.