The newcomer was none other than Asura.
He had clearly sprinted here from afar. His chest heaved violently, and the usual gentleness and tolerance had vanished from his face, replaced by burning fury and profound grief.
He stared fixedly at Indra before looking at the headless corpse and the bloodied head lying in the distance. His voice trembled with emotion.
"Why?! Why did you kill him?! You just came back! Even if he spoke disrespectfully and offended you, what real harm could he possibly have done to you?! How could you... how could you kill him without even asking a single question?!"
He simply could not understand it. The disciple had merely failed to recognize Indra and shouted at him once. Why did he have to die for that?
A flash of extreme impatience and irritation passed through Indra's eyes, as though Asura's questioning were nothing more than an annoying noise.
His icy gaze swept across the surrounding disciples, who were angry but dared not speak and wore complicated expressions in their eyes. Then he suddenly let out a cold shout infused with oppressive Chakra.
"Silence!"
An invisible pressure crashed down upon the hearts of every disciple present like a heavy hammer.
Their faces turned pale, and they lowered their heads in terror, trembling uncontrollably. No one dared meet his gaze any longer, much less utter another word.
Only Asura remained standing in the center of it all. Although his body swayed slightly beneath the pressure and his face had gone pale, he stubbornly straightened his back. His gaze burned brightly as he met his brother's cold, merciless eyes without retreating, grief and pain written across his face.
The two brothers stood in stark contrast.
One was like ice that had remained frozen for ten thousand years—decisive and ruthless, treating rules and human lives as though they meant nothing.
The other was like a blazing flame, holding fast to his principles and compassion, even when facing his own flesh-and-blood brother.
For the first time, their ideals collided head-on in a bloody confrontation beneath the gates of the Ninshū, where the scent of blood still hung in the air.
Their silent standoff was more chilling than any furious roar.
"Trash will always be trash."
Indra's gaze, cold as frost, slowly swept over the Ninshū disciples surrounding him. They hung their heads deeply out of fear and stood as silent as cicadas in winter.
Their trembling shoulders and lowered eyes did not evoke the slightest sympathy from him. Instead, a cold, almost exhilarating satisfaction stirred within his heart.
Just as he thought. When dealing with these mediocre fools who had grown arrogant and forgotten what reverence meant, only the most direct and brutal intimidation could leave a lesson carved into their bones.
Only then would they remember that the name Indra represented more than power. It also represented inviolable authority... and the power of life and death.
"Indra! What exactly are you trying to do?! Even now, you still don't realize you're in the wrong?!"
Asura's furious roar shattered the suffocating silence once again.
Beyond his anger was an even deeper heartbreak and incomprehension, as though he were watching something precious shatter completely before his eyes.
"Wrong?"
Indra raised an eyebrow mockingly.
In the next instant, his figure vanished like a phantom and reappeared behind Asura without warning.
A hand came to rest lightly upon Asura's shoulder, yet it seemed to carry the weight of a mountain.
Asura's entire body suddenly stiffened!
He had not seen Indra move at all!
First came stunned disbelief. Then, a bone-chilling cold spread from his touched shoulder throughout his body, transforming into unprecedented solemnity... and a faint sense of helplessness at being utterly overwhelmed by absolute strength.
"Asura."
Indra leaned closer, his cold breath almost brushing against his younger brother's ear. His voice was low, carrying undisguised mockery and pity.
"After all these years, you're still... this weak."
He spoke as casually as if commenting on the weather. With unconcealed contempt, he even raised his hand and patted Asura twice on the shoulder.
Pat. Pat.
Then he withdrew his hand as though he had touched something unclean.
Without sparing a glance at Asura's face, which had instantly gone pale and rigid, Indra turned and continued walking deeper into the Ninshū.
His cold words, however, remained behind like icicles driven into every corner of the square.
"If I truly wanted your life, then at this very moment... you'd already be a corpse."
Silence.
A deeper, more despairing silence than before descended upon everyone.
Even Asura was shaken to the core by those merciless words, which had utterly torn away any remaining pretense of brotherly affection. He stood frozen in place, unable to speak for a long moment.
His brother's strength and ruthlessness had been laid bare before him in the most brutal way possible.
"Oh, right."
Indra suddenly stopped again and slightly turned his head, his gaze sharp as lightning as it fell upon Asura, who was still standing there stiffly.
His tone returned to calm, but it carried an unquestionable, condescending authority.
"For the sake of our brotherhood, I believe I should explain one thing to you."
He raised a hand and pointed at the headless corpse growing cold on the ground, his eyes utterly devoid of emotion.
"That piece of trash... was one of your people, wasn't he? As the person Father intends to place in charge of the Ninshū, can you not even keep your own subordinates under control?"
"He didn't even recognize me—your elder brother and the Sage of Six Paths' eldest son—and yet he dared speak disrespectfully to me and shout at me as he pleased..."
Indra deliberately drew out the last words. Then his eyes suddenly turned cold, like two poisoned daggers piercing toward Asura.
"Did you... put him up to it?"
"No! How could I?! I would never do something like that!"
Asura snapped out of his shock and hurriedly shook his head, his voice trembling with urgency.
"Good."
Indra nodded faintly, as though he had merely confirmed something insignificant.
But in the next moment, his tone abruptly sharpened like a blade leaving its sheath, carrying a chilling killing intent.
"Then that 'dog' that doesn't recognize its master must have developed some arrogant thoughts it had no business entertaining!"
His gaze swept over every Ninshū disciple in the square like a tangible blade of ice. They all had their heads lowered, as if they wished they could disappear into the ground.
His voice was not loud, yet it reached every corner of the square, carrying a coldness that made their very souls tremble.
"Listen carefully. A dog should know a dog's place and fulfill a dog's duty!"
"Know who your master is, and who holds the power of life and death!"
"If you dare bare your fangs, if you dare entertain thoughts of turning against your master..."
Indra's voice suddenly rose, and the suppressed aura surrounding him erupted like a volcano!
Cold killing intent, so intense it seemed almost tangible, swept across the entire square like a raging arctic storm. Even the air itself seemed to freeze!
"Then there's only one fate awaiting you—slaughter and annihilation!"
Thud! Thud!
Some of the weaker disciples, their resolve less firm, had their legs give way beneath the terrifying killing intent and oppressive pressure. They collapsed onto the ground, their faces white as paper.
The others gritted their teeth tightly and trembled uncontrollably, lowering their heads even further. They barely dared breathe, terrified that the slightest sound might attract the attention of that murderous figure.
The vast square fell utterly silent.
Only the violent pounding of terrified hearts echoed within everyone's chests.
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