Stubborn Old Fart

The doors creaked open, releasing a horrid pungent smell that assaulted Dobroslav's nostrils. "Found it!" he exclaimed with a twisted sense of joy. The chamber, a few dozen meters in diameter, held a grim atmosphere. Ornamental banners adorned with skulls, green liquid pouring from their orifices, lined both sides of the grave. The grave concealed the body of the plague lord, one of the four demon generals. It was not merely a mausoleum; it served as a prison for the notorious demon's fallen form.

Maintaining a cautious distance of a dozen meters, Dobroslav suddenly bellowed, "Don't pretend to be dead, old ghost!"

No reaction.

"Ohh, so you want me to blast you to pieces then? I see! I see!" he threatened, frustration etching his words.

Still, there was no reaction from the dormant demon. Unfazed, Dobroslav's power began to surge, escalating from his rank 10 cultivation level, the facade he presented to the outside world, to the potent rank 20. Intent on testing the old demon, he refrained from revealing his true strength just yet. With a summoning of his martial spirit, he cast a shadow bolt at the grave, a calculated move to gauge the reaction of the infamous plague lord.

The anticipated explosion of the shadow bolt never occurred; instead, it vanished into nothingness upon impact with the grave. Intrigued and slightly surprised, Dobroslav sat down cross-legged, a contemplative expression on his face. Unfazed and patient, he began cultivating. There was no rush, and the stubborn silence of the demon feigning death seemed far too suspicious to warrant getting any closer. Dobroslav opted to bide his time, allowing the air in the mausoleum to settle before making his next move.

After hours of patient cultivation, Dobroslav's eyes snapped open, his gaze fixed on the unyielding grave. Frustration laced his words as he declared, "Stubborn old fart, stop pretending, or I will really smash that stupid fake grave of yours to bits."

Still met with nothing but dead silence.

"Would you refuse a toast, only to drink in forfeit?" Dobroslav roared, channeling his power to the equivalent of rank 25, nearing his current limit. "Shadow Death Blast!" A small shadow bolt erupted, swelling instantly into a washbasin-sized demon skull energy blast, hurtling towards the grave.

Just as it was about to hit, a shout resonated from within, "You dare?!"

"Old bastard, finally coming out?" Dobroslav ridiculed.

"Old bastard? I will show you how to respect your elders!" retorted the demon, breaking the silence with a vehement response.

The demon unleashed a putrid wave of energy toward Dobroslav with a casual wave of his hand. "Hmph! Today is your end," he declared, his demeanour carrying the calmness of an ancient well.