A Waste of Time

Chapter 160: Twisted Tribute

Rawr.

“Bugger off before I lose my patience!” Daemon snapped, his voice sharp against the hush of the forest.

Growl.

“Stop following me.” He twisted his neck, glare cutting back over his shoulder at the hulking grizzly bear shadowing his steps. “I said I was just passing through! Who cares about your shitty territory anyway?”

Snort.

The beast’s breath misted in the cool dark, heavy with the musk of damp fur and earth. Its paws dug into the soil, stubborn, unyielding.

“Keep giving me that attitude,” Daemon warned, halting mid-step, “and I’ll turn you into stew… and a lovely fur coat.”

Wood energy surged from his frame, rippling outward in a flare that shook the nearby undergrowth. The air grew thick with a sharp, resinous scent, like sap dripping from a wounded tree. It was a final warning — one the bear’s instincts did not miss.

The creature froze, its massive body tensing. For a moment, its dark eyes betrayed hesitation, the primal recognition of danger far beyond its reckoning. Then — yelp.

With a sudden pivot, the brown bear bolted, crashing through brush and vanishing into the suffocating shadows of the forest. Within seconds, only the echo of breaking branches lingered, and within ten more it was gone altogether, beyond the reach of Daemon’s mind-eye.

The silence that followed was telling. His Killing Intent hung thick in the air, potent enough to make even a Ferocious-Creature flee without a fight.

Daemon turned his head to the left, eyes narrowing as a cunning smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Old friend,” he called lightly, his tone edged with mockery. “You’ve been following me for quite a while now… I’m starting to confuse you for a stalker.” Folding his arms across his chest, he planted his feet firmly. “I believe it’s about time you stepped forward to greet me — preferably with gifts, like any guest worth his salt.”

The forest answered only with silence. The breeze stirred the canopy overhead, leaves whispering in restless waves. Insects scraped and crawled unseen along the soil, filling the hush with their small, steady chorus.

But Daemon’s sharpened senses peeled through the quiet. He could hear the faint stutter of breath, smell the acrid tang of unease carried on the wind, even taste the sour edge of fear bleeding into the air.

The fool thought himself hidden — yet he had been careless enough to linger within the reach of Daemon’s mind-eye. Every twitch, every faltering reaction was laid bare, his entire form painted clearly in Daemon’s perception.

The boy relished it. His smile widened as he watched, savoring the ugly contortions of the young man’s face, knowing he saw what the other believed concealed.

Crack.

The sound of a twig snapping cut through the forest hush. Whoever had been tailing Daemon had finally stepped out — not so much by choice, but because the boy’s sharp senses had already flushed him from hiding. The stomp was half announcement, half frustration, a petty venting of nerves against the forest floor.

He knew full well his fate now rested entirely on the boy’s mood. Any resistance would only end in him being hurled out of the competition early.

Zhao Wei emerged, stiff and uneasy. Standing before Daemon, he shivered reflexively as memories of their last battle replayed in his mind. That smile — harmless, almost childish on the surface — had haunted him ever since. Seeing it curve across Daemon’s lips again sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“H-hello again,” Zhao Wei stammered. A thin, ugly smile tugged at his mouth as cold sweat beaded across his brow. “Y-young master Daemon is as dashing as always.” His tone grovelled, shameless despite the fact that he was a Water Cultivator in the Ninth Stage of the Qi Gathering Realm, bowing before a boy less than half his age. But then again, his kidneys still ached whenever he remembered what that “harmless” child had done to him.

“No, no, no,” Daemon waved his arms in exaggerated denial, his voice dripping mockery. “I’m nothing compared to brother Wei’s conquering aura. I’ve seen firsthand what it does to maidens’ hearts!”

Yet as he spoke, Daemon extended his hand, palm open, eyes gleaming with a gaze so intent it burned. The knowing curl of his lips left no room for misunderstanding: Now that we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries… it’s time for my gift, dear guest.

Shame twisted Zhao Wei’s face, draining it sickly yellow. He swallowed his pride and flicked a finger. A colorful Rune slipped free of his body, darted through the air, and sank into Daemon’s physique.

Above, the cloud scroll shifted. Zhao Wei’s ranking dropped from 15th to 16th.

Sigh.

The young man turned, his shoulders sagging as he cursed his own stupidity for ever tailing this devil. But just as he was about to slink away, a voice froze him in place.

“Wait.”

Zhao Wei stiffened, heart hammering. A storm of frantic thoughts raced through him, but the loudest fear was clear: had the boy grown greedy?

“W-what is it, young master Daemon?” he asked carefully, sliding into a defensive stance. His fingers clenched tight around the obsidian handle of his Whip, his eyes darting across the trees, desperate to pick the best direction to flee should this turn bloody. “Is my gift not to your liking?”

Daemon tilted his head, voice calm but edged. “What do you think?” He pointed skyward. “Take a look for yourself. I still have only fourteen points.”

Zhao Wei’s eyes shot upward. His pupils shrank. “I… impossible.” The Rankings-List showed the truth. The boy’s score hadn’t risen at all.

Daemon shook his head and shrugged, casual as though commenting on the weather. “Thank you for returning the platform I abandoned to me.” Then his hand extended once more, expectant. “But I believe you still have my gift.”

Zhao Wei’s heart collapsed. Tears nearly stung his eyes as he moved like a man in chains. Mechanically, he handed over another platform, leaving himself with only his own.

When he finally turned away, he looked hollow — a shell of himself, shuffling like a lifeless zombie into the forest’s dark.

Daemon was content with the four-point increase to his score and chose to let Zhao Wei go, even though the man was worth at least double that amount.

“If we’re fated to meet again, then I won’t be so merciful. Make sure to remember that, old friend!” the boy cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted in the direction Zhao Wei had fled.

No reply came — only the frantic pounding of footsteps, fading fast, as if fire had been set to the young man’s tail.

Daemon shrugged, indifferent, and turned his attention back to exploring the forest. Every creature he encountered erupted into violence the moment he strayed into their territory — claws, fangs, and fury met him at every step.

When dawn broke, a reward descended on him like the others still enduring the trial: ten points granted in an instant.

Just as he was about to climb a tree and steal a nap — after hours of walking, battling Beasts and swarms of insects through the night — the ground beneath him flared with power. A Formation ignited, its patterns unfurling outward until a full kilometer around him glowed with sharp lines of light.

But unlike the other Formations he had seen, this one didn’t lock him into a fixed space. It shifted with the forest, superimposed upon the land itself, following him like a shadow. Wherever he chose to move, the battlefield would follow — dragging its summoned horrors with it.

“Fuck!” Daemon barked, his colorful barrier flashing to life around him as a buzzing cloud of green wasps descended in a venomous tide.

At the same time, he slammed his left foot into the ground. Earth surged upward in jagged walls, their surfaces bristling with cruel metal spikes. The barrier of stone and steel tore through the undergrowth just in time to meet the charge of a herd of water buffaloes, their enraged bellows echoing as they lowered their curved horns straight at his vitals.

Here's a link to my discord server if you want to talk - .gg/HwHHR6Hds