Overthrow the Cultivation Civilization

Chapter 362 6 Treasure Secret Realm 16

"But our game only requires 200 monks, and now there are five more. What should we do?" This cold voice was like a giant snake, slowly swimming and licking everyone.

The eeriness and indifference in that voice made everyone present shudder.

"I've got it. Just kill the last five that come in." The weapon spirit expressed joy, as if it was proud of having come up with a good idea.

The Ghost King Tower monks who heard this felt as if they were falling into an icy cave. They almost instinctively rushed towards the back, trying to escape from this terrifying place.

Kakaka~

The door slammed shut, and the five of them bumped into the cold door. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't move the bronze door at all.

The gate seemed like an insurmountable barrier, cutting off all their routes of retreat.

A flash of white light passed by, and the five monks paused, sliding down to the ground next to the door, with scarlet blood on their foreheads. They didn't even have time to scream before they died.

"Hey young man, do you really like playing games?" The weapon spirit obviously recognized Wang Qiye and circled around him.

Wang Qiye was so frightened that he dared not move, and his hair stood on end. The tragedy of Yi Baoshan was still vivid in his mind. Could this game also be a rip-off where only one person could survive?

Fear followed him like a shadow, and Wang Qiye had no idea what fate awaited him. He could only pray silently that he could find a glimmer of hope in this terrifying atmosphere.

The weapon spirit returned to the center of the field, and the cold female voice sounded again. "In this game, from the beginning to the end, you are not allowed to hurt anyone." This voice echoed in the empty hall, carrying an unquestionable majesty.

"Then let me formally introduce this game in Erbao Mountain. It is called Weight Balance." As the spirit of the weapon spoke, a mysterious and depressing atmosphere enveloped everyone.

"In this game, there can only be one winner who survives." These words hit everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

The two hundred monks looked at each other, their eyes full of fear and anxiety. They didn't know what the rules of this so-called weight balance game were, but they knew that this would be a cruel life-and-death contest.

Wang Qiye's heart skipped a beat. "Here it comes again. Nothing good will come of encountering this thing." A deep sense of uneasiness surged in his heart, as if he had sensed the coming storm.

The weapon spirit continued, "I will randomly select a monk, and then he will stand on the scale under me. He can take out all the things and compare them with everyone present."

Wang Qiye then noticed that there was a huge stone scale underneath the sword. The huge plate was indeed large enough for a person to stand on.

"You can only use one item at a time. After you have competed, you cannot use it again."

"If his weight is greater than that of ten monks, he can survive. I will randomly kill ten monks whose weight is smaller than his."

"If his weight is less than the ten cultivators present here, he will die. I will kill him on the spot." The voice of the weapon spirit was cold and ruthless, as if it was judging the fate of everyone.

"In this game, I am the only one who can kill people. No one else is allowed to do it." This sentence was like a declaration of death, which made the monks present fall into deep fear.

They knew that in this game, their lives were completely in the hands of the weapon spirits, and any resistance could have fatal consequences. And no one could predict how this mysterious weight balance game would unfold.

"I think you are getting impatient, so let's begin the game." The words of the weapon spirit were like a death warrant, making the hearts of the monks present tense.

After the weapon spirit finished its announcement, it pointed the tip of the sword at a monk and said, "It's an honor. You are the first one."

The monk was so frightened that his liver and gallbladder were about to burst. In extreme fear, a yellow-white substance appeared under him. The monks around him obviously smelled the strange smell and moved away from him.

"Why, you don't want to?" Seeing that he didn't get up for a long time, the cold female voice suddenly rose with an irresistible majesty.

"I am willing." The monk's teeth were chattering with fear, but no matter how hard he tried, his limp body could not get up from the ground.

Perhaps the spirit of the weapon was getting impatient, and a white light flashed, and the cultivator's figure shook and fell to the ground.

The first victim of the game appeared. The bloody opening made the whole scene even more terrifying. Everyone was worried about their unknown fate. They didn’t know who would be the next, nor did they know whether they could survive this cruel game.

"You will be the first one." The weapon spirit turned the sword tip and pointed it at a monk. Although the fat man was also very scared, he still walked tremblingly to the center of the hall.

"What do you want to compete with them in?" The spirit of the weapon came to his side and asked softly.

"Weight." The fat man said with chattering teeth.

"Stand on it." the spirit of the weapon ordered.

The fat man then stood up tremblingly.

The huge scale held him up. As the light flashed, a smaller scale appeared above the heads of the 198 monks in the ancient hall, floating up and down. Then the light faded, and the scale put the fat monk down.

"Congratulations, you win." After the weapon spirit said this, white light flashed in the hall, and ten monks who were lighter than the fat monk were ruthlessly killed.

Everyone was shocked. This was the way of the competition!

You are not even given a chance to attack, you are brutally wiped out. No matter how deep your spiritual power is or how strong your skills are, in the face of such unreasonable rules, you will die with hatred.

"You come as the second one." The weapon spirit pointed the sword diagonally.

A female cultivator led the crowd out and walked to the center of the hall. She seemed to have already thought it through and whispered two words: "Beauty."

After saying that, she stood up on her own.

Wang Qiye's back was soaked with cold sweat at that time. What he feared was really what happened. With his ordinary appearance, he could never defeat that pretty young lady.

Sure enough, one end of the scale above his head began to rise, but was moved down by the female cultivator.

Wang Qiye felt a surge of despair in his heart. In this cruel game, every step seemed to be full of unknowns and dangers. He didn't know how long he could last in this terrifying game, nor did he know if he would be the next one to be chosen.

"Congratulations, you won." After the weapon spirit finished speaking, a white light flashed in the hall, and ten monks who were uglier than the young female cultivator were ruthlessly killed.

The white light flashed across Wang Qiye's face, and at that moment his heart sank to the bottom of the valley. He had never been afraid of death, but his life and death were snatched away by someone so inexplicably. Even though he had experienced many killings, he could not accept it.

"Pah", a white-bearded Ghost King monk fell to the ground behind him, and his head touched Wang Qiye's arm. At this moment, he felt a cold death sickle hanging on his neck.

"Next, you come up." The weapon spirit pointed casually with the tip of the sword.

The monk who was chosen was delighted and walked quickly to the center of the hall.

After two rounds of games, there were still 179 monks left. Everyone understood that standing on the stage undoubtedly held the initiative, and as long as they chose one thing they were good at, they would be invincible.

"I want to compete in Qinggong." The thin man shouted anxiously.

Wang Qiye finally put his mind at ease.

Fortunately, in the previous level, there were a few people whose appearances were ugly due to their martial arts skills, and a few who were a little older, so he was able to avoid them.

But if there were people behind him who were more attractive in appearance, he would definitely not be able to pass. He was still somewhat confident in this round of Qinggong, so he was not panicked.

"Congratulations, you win." After the weapon spirit finished speaking, white light flashed in the hall, and ten monks who ran slower than the thin man were ruthlessly killed.

"You come next." The spirit of the weapon's cold voice sounded, cold and ruthless.

Another thin monk came on stage, "I want to compete in lightness."

As soon as the thin man finished speaking, the fat monk who had just stepped onto the stage suddenly turned pale. If this game allowed physical combat, he might have taken action and taken down the thin man.

Sure enough, the balance flashed with light, and the weapon spirit shuttled through the ancient hall ten more times. One of the monks who fell was the fat man.

In this terrifying game, every decision could have fatal consequences. In order to survive, the monks had to rack their brains to choose their own advantage items to compete.

However, even so, there is no guarantee that you will survive. This game is full of uncertainty and cruelty, which makes every participant tremble with fear.

"I want to compete in ugliness."

Sure enough, another monk was inspired and shouted out these vicious words.

Now the pretty female cultivator was in a panic. Her face turned pale in an instant, without a trace of blood left.

As expected, the weapon spirit chopped down mercilessly, and one of the cultivators who fell was this female cultivator.

Next, all kinds of unexpected options, such as slim, bloated, bad breath, and fresh, were played in turn. Under this seemingly comedic choice, monks fell one after another mercilessly.

Every choice subverts the monks' cognition and makes them deeply realize the impermanence and cruelty of this game.

In this game, no one can guarantee that they can survive to the end. Every choice is full of risks, and every tilt of the scales may determine life or death.

The monks were forced to participate in this absurd contest in fear and anxiety. They didn't know who would be chosen next, nor did they know when they would face the threat of death. The entire ancient hall was filled with tension and despair, like a huge death trap that enveloped everyone.