EVEN AS A SLAVE, THE HEAVENLY DEMON'S MIGHT SHALL TAME THE BEAUTIES-Chapter 60: TO MAKE A MONSTER BLINK

Felix Shadowmere, heir to a family of elite assassins, discovered that stealth and poison meant little when faced with overwhelming spiritual pressure. His specialized training had prepared him for many challenges, but not this direct assault on his very will to remain conscious.

Garrett Meine, heir to a powerful northern mining family known for their iron constitution and stoic endurance, found his family’s legendary resilience tested to its limits. The Meine bloodline was renowned for producing warriors who could endure incredible hardship, but even the strongest human constitution had limits when faced with such overwhelming pressure.

One by one, students who had seemed invincible just moments before began collapsing. Serina Moonwhisper, from a prominent eastern diplomatic family known for their mystical traditions and ancient magical practices, discovered that generations of magical heritage couldn’t substitute for personal endurance. Drake Stormwind, scion of a legendary military family, learned that family reputation meant nothing when measured against individual capability.

When the pressure stabilized at twenty percent, only ten students remained standing. The elite of their class, separated not by bloodline but by demonstrated ability to endure what others could not.

Yomi remained perfectly composed, his breathing steady, his posture relaxed. If anything, he seemed more at ease now than he had during the formal ceremonies, as though the pressure created an environment where he could finally be himself.

Evangeline Morwyn studied the phenomenon with analytical fascination even as she fought to remain conscious. Her violet eyes tracked the flow of energy, cataloging the technique’s mechanics while her academic mind formulated theories about the underlying principles.

Aldric Pemberton stood through sheer prideful determination, his jaw clenched with the effort of maintaining dignity in the face of forces beyond his understanding. After his earlier humiliation during the assessments, he would die before showing weakness again.

"Fifty percent," Lyra announced, her expression growing serious as she prepared to escalate beyond normal testing parameters.

The pressure that crashed over the remaining students was qualitatively different from what had come before, not just increased intensity but a fundamental shift in the nature of the attack. This wasn’t simply spiritual pressure but something approaching the weight of existence itself, as though reality had become heavier in their immediate vicinity.

Thalia Queensbane collapsed immediately, her merchant’s pragmatism no match for forces that transcended commercial understanding. Felix Shadowmere followed moments later, his assassin’s training proving inadequate against attacks that bypassed physical defenses entirely.

Garrett Meine’s constitution finally reached its limits, his consciousness flickering like a candle in a hurricane before finally guttering out. Serina Moonwhisper’s grace couldn’t sustain her as the pressure overwhelmed her magical defenses, sending her to her knees before darkness claimed her.

Drake Stormwind, heir to generations of military tradition, discovered that battlefield courage meant nothing against forces that struck at the soul rather than the body. He fought to maintain consciousness longer than most, but even his warrior’s pride couldn’t overcome the crushing weight pressing down on his very existence.

Aldric strains against the overwhelming force, his face flushed with effort as pride warred with physical limitation. "I won’t... lose... again!" he gasped, his voice barely audible as he fought to remain upright. But even ducal bloodline and years of training couldn’t overcome forces beyond mortal comprehension. He collapsed with a cry of frustrated rage, his consciousness finally surrendering to the inevitable.

Evangeline lasted longer, her analytical mind trying to process the theoretical implications even as her body failed her. "Fascinating technique..." she murmured, her voice growing weaker as darkness closed in. "Pressure distribution suggests... spiritual rather than physical..." Her words trailed off as she crumpled gracefully to the arena floor.

Aeloria’s magical defenses flared desperately as she tried to shield herself from the assault, but her healing magic was simply inadequate against forces designed for destruction rather than restoration. She went down hard, her body hitting the stone with enough force to worry those still conscious.

Lirien gritted her teeth, enhanced constitution from her Ki bond with Yomi allowing her to resist longer than should have been possible. The energy he had shared with her provided some protection against the spiritual assault, but even that wasn’t enough. She looked at Yomi with desperate determination before finally succumbing, her consciousness fading as she toppled backward.

And then there was one.

Yomi stood alone in the center of the arena, surrounded by the unconscious forms of his classmates, showing not the slightest sign of strain or effort. His breathing remained steady, his posture relaxed, as though the crushing pressure that had overwhelmed everyone else simply didn’t affect him.

If anything, a slight smile played at his lips, suggesting that he found the entire experience mildly amusing rather than challenging.

Lyra’s pale eyes narrowed with interest and growing excitement as she studied the impossible sight before her. In fifteen years of instruction, she had never witnessed a student, first-year or otherwise, who could withstand fifty percent of her aura without showing any visible reaction.

"Remarkable," she murmured, her professional interest beginning to evolve into something more personal. "Let’s see your limits."

"Fifty-five percent," Lyra announced, her voice carrying a note of anticipation that hadn’t been present during the earlier tests.

The pressure increased incrementally, but even this small escalation represented forces that most academy instructors never accessed. She watched Yomi intently, searching for any sign of strain, any indication that she was approaching his breaking point.

Yomi’s response was to meet her gaze directly, his storm-grey eyes reflecting an amusement that seemed to suggest he found her efforts inadequate. The smile that curved his lips carried undertones of challenge, as though he were silently asking if this was truly the best she could offer.

"Sixty percent," Lyra continued, her own breathing becoming slightly labored as she channeled power at the maximum level most instructors ever accessed.

This was beyond academy safety protocols, entering territory where permanent damage became possible. Yet Yomi’s reaction remained unchanged, if anything, his smirk widened, meeting her gaze with the kind of direct challenge that spoke of predator recognizing predator.