"I understand," said a tall figure seated upon the massive throne. In the shadows, his features remained obscured, but his long and slender frame was faintly visible.
"Your Majesty… shall we make contact with him? It's been a long time since a true powerhouse entered the City of Slaughter."
"You believe… he's truly a powerhouse?" the tall man seated on the throne asked, voice calm yet oppressive.
"In terms of technique alone, he seems born for this place. His soul power isn't particularly strong, but his combat skills are terrifying. Even a Title Douluo, without soul skills, wouldn't be able to kill him here. His physical body is also extraordinarily resilient. I suspect he may have soul bones," the subordinate replied solemnly.
The King of Slaughter fell silent for a moment before asking, "Then in your view—can he achieve a hundred consecutive victories and challenge the Road to Hell?"
"A hundred wins? It's only a matter of time. But the Road to Hell… I fear he won't make it through."
Upon hearing this, the King of Slaughter responded coldly,
"Then there's no need to contact him."
"Why not, Your Majesty? Don't you want the City of Slaughter to grow stronger? Even though we made that agreement with the Spirit Hall a thousand years ago, who knows when they might break it?"
"I have my reasons. You need not question me," the King of Slaughter interrupted. "My Asura Sword has warned me from the void—if I make a move against that man, the City of Slaughter will be destroyed."
After speaking, he gently stroked the crimson longsword by his side. That sword was no ordinary weapon—it was a divine artifact. And the warning he sensed from it… was something he dared not ignore.
For now, it was best to let this calamity pass through as quickly as possible.
"…As you command, Your Majesty," the voice responded, no longer trying to persuade him. The King of Slaughter was the absolute ruler of this place. She could offer suggestions, but had no right to interfere with his decisions.
But what kind of existence could strike fear into even a divine artifact?
---
Twenty-Eight Days Later
Ye Xuan sat up from the bed, wincing slightly from the soreness in her lower body. Ignoring the discomfort, she turned and looked tenderly at Li Chang'an, who was sitting in meditation.
Over the past twenty-eight days, they had grown into more than just lovers. They were close in every possible sense—he knew her depths; she knew his strength.
He had conquered more than just her body. He had taken her heart.
"How are you feeling?" Ye Xuan asked with concern as Li Chang'an slowly opened his eyes.
Ninety-eight matches. In just twenty-eight days, he had racked up ninety-eight consecutive victories. Only two more, and he would become the next Deathgod.
And what was even more astonishing—he had done it in record time.
Twenty-seven days.
But the closer he got to the end, the more serious his condition became. His bloodlust was intensifying. Just today, he had taken her five times in a row, trying out over ten new "positions" just to calm himself down.
"I'm fine. Go register me for today's match," Li Chang'an said calmly.
Even seated in stillness, the murderous aura around him was enough to make the air feel suffocating. Even Ye Xuan—at her level of cultivation—felt uneasy standing near him.
There were only two ways to purge killing intent: spiritual power, or state of mind.
Fortunately, Li Chang'an had both in abundance. His spiritual strength was outstanding, and his mindset was calm and tempered. His life experience was rich, his will unshakable.
That was his greatest edge in completing ninety-eight matches in under a month. Otherwise, even a Title Douluo would have crumbled under the weight of killing nearly a thousand people in twenty-eight days.
Today marked the twenty-eighth day. Li Chang'an planned to fight one match today, one tomorrow, and on the thirtieth day, he would clear the Road to Hell.
Because even as strong as he was, the final two matches required his utmost caution. One wrong step, and the killing intent within him could devour him entirely.
"Alright. Just don't lose sight of yourself. It'd be a shame to fail at the very end," Ye Xuan said gently.
After all, freedom was within reach. She didn't want her man—her hope—to collapse just before the finish line.
"Don't worry. I have you, don't I?" Li Chang'an grinned as he pulled her into an embrace.
"Also, once I win today's match, I'm going into closed-door cultivation for a day. I'll need absolute peace before my final fight," he added, implying that she would need to guard the room and keep him undisturbed.
"Got it. Leave it to me," Ye Xuan nodded seriously. She was more than happy to help—and, truthfully, she was relieved to finally get a day of rest herself.
With that said, Li Chang'an returned to his meditation, stabilizing his mental state. Even registration required a bit of waiting these days.
After all, not everyone was eager to enter the ring with the "Gentle Deathgod." And the organizers weren't fools—they wouldn't keep sending cannon fodder. That would turn the deathmatch into a one-sided slaughter.
As a result, Li Chang'an's opponents had been getting stronger by the day. Most of them were Spirit Sages or higher, which had significantly helped sharpen his combat skills.
After all, he was the Gentle Deathgod. His victims had to die peacefully—cleanly.
He couldn't rely on brute force. And with opponents this tough, each match now took great effort. Dismantling someone's bones in a single move… wasn't exactly easy.
Standing nearby, Ye Xuan watched him fall into meditation again and didn't disturb him. She quietly got dressed and left the room to register him for today's match.
As for her own matters… she chose not to tell her man for now. No need to distract him.
---
Half a Day Later – Hell Arena
As Li Chang'an stepped into the arena dressed in black robes embroidered with blood-red trim, the packed stands erupted into thunderous cheers:
"Deathgod! Deathgod! Deathgod!"
At this point, his popularity alone earned him massive points. Over time, the accumulation had become quite a lucrative income.
On the opposite end of the arena, nine opponents stood grouped together, grim expressions on their faces as they quietly strategized.
That's right—nine.
These days, his opponents had started forming alliances before the match even began. There was simply no other way. A fair one-on-one gave them no chance at victory.
Every match had essentially become a one-versus-nine.
Today's opponents were all around the Spirit Sage level. While soul skills were prohibited, Spirit Sages had dense soul power, and their physical abilities were formidable.
Nine Spirit Sages at once—on paper—should've been terrifying.
But despite their numbers, every one of them felt the crushing pressure of facing the Gentle Deathgod. Because he might not be able to use soul skills—but his raw killing techniques were already on par with them.
Worse yet, it wasn't just his skill that made him terrifying.
It was his body.
That freakishly resilient, nearly indestructible body.
Very few people could even leave a scratch on him.
"Gentlemen… after you," Li Chang'an said politely, raising a hand in a graceful invitation.
As if what he was about to do was not mass murder, but a friendly dinner party.
__
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