The drumming execution

Yang Qing maintained his lazy posture, head resting on his left palm while his right hand remained on the podium.

"The ten-second test starts now… ONE," he said, drumming his index finger once against the podium.

A sonic wave burst forth from the light tap, rippling through the air as it surged toward the Shen brothers.

The wolf embedded in their pavise shield came to life, its form shifting as it released a low, menacing growl. A black cloud—part flame, part ash—billowed out, while a white glow flared from the shield, greedily siphoning vast pools of qi from the surrounding air.

Yet, when the sonic wave collided with the black-ashed flame, it offered no more resistance than something passing through mist. Easily passing through the flames, the wave slammed into the shield with a muffled impact. There was no thunderous explosion, no outward signs of devastation that one would have expected. There wasn't even a ripple of shockwave as it felt like the attack had instead been swallowed whole or had been sucked into some buoyant spongy surface.

But to the Shen brothers, the reality was far removed from the harmless look it showed.

The moment the wave struck and vanished into the shield, an immense force immediately crashed into their bodies. It was like being bludgeoned by an entire mountain with its oppressive weight that spread evenly across every inch of them, targeting every single part of their body with fierce momentum. There was no reprieve. Every nerve, every muscle, down to their fingernails and eyelashes, felt the same crushing impact.

CRACK!

Part of the shield groaned under the strain, a jagged crack forming at the bottom and creeping upward like a spider's web. The Shen brothers didn't look like they were far from sharing the shield's fate as cracks spread from their palms up to their elbows while their bones quaked under the immense pressure.

With wild roars, they poured even more qi into the shield, forcing it to swell and repair the fractures. The dark cinder white wolf's head expanded, growing nearly a meter long, while the dark ash flame it produced doubled in both size and intensity.

Yet, despite its ferocity, the flame couldn't even scorch the courtroom floor or affect the surrounding furniture. The reason for that was simple. The materials within the courtroom vastly outclassed the destructive abilities of those flames. Take the furniture for example, it was crafted from 50,000-year-old red dragon wood, a monarch-grade material renowned for its unparalleled durability. And when it came to the floor, that was made from storm-devouring rock, which was also another monarch-grade material with a singular property: it could endure any elemental assault below the level of a peak palace-realm cultivator.

Yang Qing allowed them to use whatever means they wished, fully aware that the courtroom itself—reinforced by powerful arrays and constructed from such extraordinary materials—was more than capable of withstanding whatever they unleashed during these ten seconds.

"TWO," Yang Qing softly counted, his index finger tapping the podium again.

The resulting sonic wave effortlessly pierced through the enlarged dark ash flame and pierced through the shield's defenses like a hot knife going through butter. This time, the cracks spreading through the shield ran deeper and more jagged as its creaks echoed through the room.

The backlash was brutal. The Shen brothers' hands were shredded open, blood spraying like a geyser. But the damage didn't stop there as blood began seeping from their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Their bodies trembled violently under the overwhelming pressure.

The sonic wave didn't just tear through their external defenses, it wreaked havoc inside their bodies as well. Their bones vibrated uncontrollably, and they could feel the subtle yet excruciating sensation of microfractures forming throughout their skeleton. Each pulse of the attack shook their organs violently, displacing them from their natural positions.

Worst of all was their dantian which had visible cracks spiderwebbed across it That damage came with a radiating agony that eclipsed all the other pain combined. It felt as if their very foundation was on the verge of being forcefully removed.

What unsettled them most, however, was how precise the attack was. Despite its overwhelming force, the Shen brothers had not budged a single inch from where they stood. It wasn't because they had rooted themselves on the spot through sheer willpower—rather, they remained in place because the force within the sonic wave had been meticulously controlled to the point that it kept them in place.

The attack created a delicate yet terrifying tug-of-war effect inside their bodies. Every pulse pushed and pulled them simultaneously with equal force down to a minute level—back and forth, up and down, side to side—locking them firmly in place. This strange equilibrium ensured they endured the full brunt of the assault without a single shred of energy being wasted.

This level of control spoke volumes about Yang Qing's mastery.

When cultivators clashed, many factors determined the victor—cultivation realm, grade of cultivation art, and innate talent were the most obvious. But when two cultivators were evenly matched in those aspects, certain critical factors often tipped the scales—proficiency was one of those factors.

A cultivator with a deeper understanding and mastery of their techniques could exert more potency from the technique with ease and little expenditure on their part. Every movement, every strand of qi would be utilized to its fullest potential with little to no waste.

The Shen brothers, already on the verge of collapse, were quickly gaining an intimate understanding and realization of just how terrifying Yang Qing truly was. His paralysis move earlier was nothing compared to what he was doing now. They could hardly believe that they were contesting desperately against the might of just one of his fingers.

They all shared one despairing thought: There were still seven seconds of this left.

"THREE," Yang Qing's soft voice echoed again, but to the Shen brothers, it now sounded like the voice of the Grim Reaper.

At the side, Zhong Quan couldn't help but nervously gulp.

"Is this really the power of just a single finger?" he thought warily as he shuffled a few steps farther away, afraid that even a stray remnant of the attack might spill over to him.

The once-mighty dark ash flame, which had burned almost three meters high and four meters wide, had now been reduced to a flickering wisp. The shield itself was in no better shape. Cracks spread across its surface like a spiderweb, some so wide that Zhong Quan could clearly see the Shen brothers crouched behind it.

They were a bloody mess.

Their robes, once vibrant and distinctive amongst them, were now uniform as they got so deeply soaked in dark crimson, leaving them clinging desperately to their owner's bodies because of how soaked they were. Even their hair was in the same condition, clinging to their bodies, wet with blood.

Their labored breathing echoed faintly through the courtroom, and the earlier determination etched on their faces had crumbled under the relentless assault. What remained was fear, a raw and unbridled sense of dread that was so intense that it almost felt palpable.

Their hands trembled uncontrollably, though it was impossible to tell if it was from fear or the excruciating pain and agony they were under.

Just as Yang Qing lifted his finger to continue the count, a thud echoed through the silent chamber.

Shen Ding—the yellow-robed, shifty-eyed brother—collapsed. His body swayed for a moment before toppling forward, and the moment his face hit the ground, his faint, broken voice whispered,

"It seems... like I can't hold on any longer..."

Then, he went completely still.

Shen Shi glanced at his fallen brother, his lips curling into a tired and hopeless smile, while Shen Tian—usually the most vigilant and lively of the three—had a listless, hollow look in his eyes as if his spirit had already been crushed.

"FOUR."

Yang Qing drummed his finger against the podium once more.

The moment the attack landed, Shen Tian violently coughed out blood before collapsing to the floor. Unlike his brother, he didn't even manage a final word—he simply dropped unconscious, his body limp and unmoving.

Now, only one remained. It was Shen Shi... the last brother standing.

Yang Qing casually lifted his finger, preparing to continue the count, but just as he was about to call out five, he suddenly paused.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face.

"Interesting. It seems he passed out while standing…" Yang Qing mused, his eyes narrowing as he observed the frozen figure of Shen Shi. The rogue cultivator was still in position, his head slumped against the battered shield, legs buckled into a kneeling posture.

"Was he really just that determined to hold out… or was he waiting for his brothers to fall first before he gave in?"

The corner of Yang Qing's lips quirked up as he found the thought rather amusing.

Across the room, Mao Yunru suddenly spoke up, her eyes gleaming with interest—the kind a seasoned gambler would have when a bet didn't go as expected.

"Four seconds. They're much sturdier than I expected. I had them at two seconds. What about you, Yi Jie?"

Yi Jie gave it some thought before answering.

"Three seconds." He immediately shook his head dismissing that guess. "They could have lasted five seconds if they chose to reinforce their bodies with the tenfold cedar's energy instead of using it on the dark cinder white wolf."

Zheng Hu chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the unconscious trio as though they were fascinating specimens.

"I had them at two seconds, same as Sister Mao." He smirked. "But I have to say, I'm impressed. Surviving this long without their dantians and meridians shattering? That's no small feat. Their arrogance isn't completely unfounded. They must have had some fortuitous encounters to temper their bodies further. Otherwise, I don't see how they would have survived… even with that Sky-Rank shield."

Yang Qing let out a long sigh, rubbing his chin in mock frustration.

"Why did I end up with troublesome cases today? Even the ones that should have been simple had unexpected twists…"

His thoughts darkened slightly as a suspicious glint flickered in his eyes.

"Could that old demon Lei Weiyuan have had something to do with this? It wouldn't be the first time he's meddled in my cases..."

Still lost in thought, Yang Qing flashed forward, appearing beside the three unconscious brothers in an instant.