Kneel to no one

As the core disciple's defeat seemed only a breath away, a surge of power suddenly struck Surrdon from the air.

*Vmm* His life sigil hummed deeply as it appeared in an instant at his right side, shielding him from the powerful attack that had been aimed at his body. Whoever had just thrown that blow wasn't any less powerful than the chief.

"Outer disciple Surrdon. You dare attack your fellow disciple?!" The man standing majestically on a flying sword in the air boomed angrily. From the clothes he wore, Surrdon recognized him as one of the sect's teachers, the most influential of them.

Why was he still a teacher? Surrdon couldn't help but wonder, but he pushed it aside and faced him, his eyes bearing an irritated flicker that seemed ready to consume the entire sect in a heartbeat.

"I have done no such-"

"So bold! You can even talk back? Kneel!" The teacher boomed again, the depth of his voice frightening the innocent birds flying in the distance.

A small array materialized above Surrdon's head and immediately began releasing a forceful aura upon him, trying to get him on his knees.

"Get away!" Surrdon groaned pushing Azron out of the danger just like the timid disciples who were scurrying away from him. 'Pussies!' he cursed at them even though the oppressive aura was still pounding on his head like a gigantic hammer.

His knees buckled slightly, the constriction in his chest oppressed his lungs, and the ringing in his ears intensified.

"I've long heard of your rebellious nature. Never imagined you would be this presumptuous," the teacher scolded as he increased the pressure on Surrdon after feeling his strong resistance.

"Master!" Azron cried trying to get closer to him, but Surrdon's sore glare made her insides almost freeze. She held the urge to jump in his place and only watched with tears in her eyes. "You don't need to do this Master. This is my-"

"Do I look, weak to you?" He demanded, partially trying to assure her whilst reassuring himself. 'I am not weak. The Demon Lord chose me for a reason. He left his goals for me to carry on. I cannot shame his name or his body.'

His focus went back to the middle-aged-looking man still oppressing him. He let him see the fire burning in his eyes, to see that he would not bend to a little pressure.

"How defiant this outer disciple is," a murmur from the core disciples' section wondered.

"No one has ever been this bold. Constantly getting in trouble with other disciples, teachers, and even the chief," a female core disciple chipped.

"He is lucky he comes from a powerful background, otherwise, the chief would have already gotten rid of him."

"That would be for the good of the sect. If we keep this kind of scum around, who knows how much trouble he'll attract?! He is a magnet for trouble, always rebelling against the rest of us. Someone needs to put him in his place once and for all."

With contented eyes, Shihan watched the scene from afar without batting an eye. The disciples she had sent to chase trouble for Surrdon had turned out to be useless, lucky for her, a teacher had stepped in and was now fulfilling her wish.

She was determined to make his life as miserable as possible until he either quit the sect or gave up the Heavenly art.

She was hoping for the latter because if he quit her sect, the Demon Lord might grow impatient with Timen Gate Sect, and if he waged war upon them, not a single soul could escape. He had cultivated the demonic sutra to its fullest. Some said it contained ten thousand layers, which would have taken him at least ten thousand years to learn a single skill to its perfection. This was more terrifying than any heavenly art.

A single sutra had consumed him more than enough time to ascend to godhood.

Most cultivators lacked the patience for such a technique. No matter how powerful it was, no human could dare practice it and no other demon dared to undergo the excruciating process.

The pressure kept on growing, descending on him like the entire Timen mountain had been placed on his shoulder for him to carry. He could feel the taste of blood in his mouth. Could feel his muscles starting to break from the legs going upward.

He knew too well that if not for the Asura body refining technique, he would have already been mashed to a pulp by the force.

'Don't let them...see...my...weakness.'

He summoned all the mana available and lifted his palms to the array. His sigil appeared beneath his feet, rotating with a hum.

Other disciples watched in awe, shocked by Surrdon's willpower. How could a weak outer disciple withstand the suppression of an opponent in the early Seal realm?

This was nearly impossible, it had some thinking that the teacher was going easy on him. They didn't see the bead of sweat rolling down the older-looking man. He was exerting almost all his power to suppress the so-called outer disciple.

He had expected Surrdon to long have fallen and begged on his knees for mercy.

But the more he gazed into Surrdon's fiery eyes, the more he saw the raw determination to never bend. He could feel an odd string of fear wrap itself around his soul just from looking into the younger man's eyes.

How could this be?

He had joined the sect a month ago. Without a teacher, there wasn't much he could achieve. And yet the aura he was radiating made him feel as if the young man had faced countless battles.

To save his face, he took a step back and erased the array suppressing Surrdon.

"I'll spare you today. But the punishment for hurting your fellow disciple is not over."

With this, he turned his sword in the other direction, secretly sighing in relief at ending the suppression. If it went on any longer, he might have ended up being embarrassed in front of over a thousand disciples.

Maintaining his grace was important. It was how he appealed to his disciples and the elders. Soon, the entire sect would bow down to him. And he would make sure the disrespectful disciple got his share of humiliation for today.

Surrdon collapsed on the bench behind him, a hand pressed on his chest to soothe the bloody ache in there. He spat out the blood that had filled his mouth and raised his eyes to the man flying away. 'Another one added to my list.'

"Master!" Azron fell to her knees and smacked her head on the rough ground. "Only death can appease your anger. Please, take my life for my failure to uphold my duti-"

"Get up," he cut her short, annoyed at her dense loyalty. It was normally a good thing, but killing her was simply too cruel. How could he? A seventeen-year-old boy who had never killed even a worm in his previous life.

Azron disobeyed and remained on her knees, her forehead now bleeding from the merciless smacks it had endured. Her heart pounded with grave fear. Afraid of the Demon Lord's punishment which was worse than death. She'd choose to die rather than go through the torturous methods of her master.