[You steadied your mind, but the weight on your shoulders felt like the Great Snow Mountain, crushing the breath from your chest.]
[You turned a deaf ear to the middle-aged man across from you.]
[If you begged for mercy now, you feared you would have no chance of survival. Your life would be his to take.]
[You gritted your teeth and focused. You visualized the Demon-Slaying Sword to steady your Divine Soul, while the blood and strength you had built through day after day of hard work held firm without the slightest slackening.]
[As you recalled the standing posture of the Founding Ancestor Holy Fist Stance, a current of pure Buddhist inner power entered your body from somewhere. It guided the pressure off your shoulders, down through your legs, and into the ground.]
[The flagstones could not bear it. They cracked with a sharp report!]
[A trace of a smile appeared on the middle-aged man's face.]
[The old monk closed his eyes slightly.]
[Zhu Ziqian watched impassively. Reaching only the Fourth Martial Realm at your age was nothing remarkable.]
[Only after the pressure vanished could you draw enough breath to speak.]
["If I die, I die. Begging for mercy and accepting my fate is no way for a man to act."]
[Xu Jiangxian said, "You aren't afraid of death? A wise man knows when to yield. Once you're dead, you'll have nothing."]
[You slowly raised your head. Sweat had soaked your back, your face was deathly pale, and steam rose from your brow. Yet you breathed out and smiled.]
["Of course I'm afraid. But I know you won't kill me, Senior."]
[Xu Jiangxian's oppressive aura eased. His white robes stirred beneath the moonlight.]
["Oh? What makes you so certain I won't kill you?"]
["Your presence is terrifying, Senior, but I