In front of the current Li Zhexian, these degenerates were merely worthless, unable to pose any obstacle.
A crimson sword light swept forth.
All nine opponents raised their weapons in unison, desperately trying to block.
But—
Only the crisp clash of steel rang out several times.
And the outcome…
Was the shattering of blades—and the end of nine lives.
Li Zhexian stepped through the gushing pools of blood, his eyes cold as the abyss.
Around him, the thick, choking scent of blood condensed into a roiling crimson mist,
shrouding his entire form within its violent haze.
He had already slain over three thousand in that mass ambush.
And now, another nine hundred lives had joined the tally of his hundred victories.
Li Zhexian knew full well—
Among those who had died beneath his sword,
There must have been some, like the Old Scarface, who carried stories of their own.
But in the Slaughter City, there existed only one rule: kill, or be killed.
The five-year deadline was fast approaching.
He had a promise to keep—with his friends.
And he had to obtain the Yellow Springs Dew from the Hell Road,
To win even a single thread of life for the girl still asleep in the Lake of Life.
Li Zhexian stood still.
After a few dozen breaths, the arena across from him slowly lit up.
Qian Renxue's figure emerged, her body also wrapped in near-tangible killing intent. Beneath her feet, corpses lay strewn across the ground.
The moment she saw Li Zhexian—
She flew toward him without hesitation.
Their figures converged.
And that sense of security returned instantly.
After a year of fighting side by side, the tacit understanding between them needed no words. Back to back, they stood, eyes wary of the darkness to their left and right.
They both had the same thought—
And sure enough—
After roughly the time of one incense stick—
The darkness to both sides began to brighten.
Emerging from it were two familiar figures: Tang San and Hu Liena, both slightly disheveled, their auras chaotic.
When Tang San saw the black-clad youth wreathed in blood mist, he immediately retreated several steps, putting as much distance as he deemed safe.
Li Zhexian had no time to spare him a glance. Shoulder to shoulder with Qian Renxue, he quietly tightened his focus.
The hundred consecutive victories had been achieved.
Was the Slaughter King about to appear?
"Xue'er, be careful."
"You too."
As their voices fell—
The dark dome above them began to turn translucent, like a curtain being slowly drawn back.
A vast purple moon high above the heavens cast down its eerie glow.
Under Li Zhexian's narrowed, razor-sharp gaze—
That purple moon began to stain with crimson, transforming into a gigantic, blood-red eye, radiating a godlike presence from on high.
Even Li Zhexian and Qian Renxue felt a chill crawl up their spines.
They turned slightly, pressing their backs together.
It was the most efficient stance when facing unknown peril.
Tang San let out a cold snort and retreated again, gritting his teeth.
Hu Liena's face was pale as frost, every muscle tense.
Her gaze swept across the field, as though wanting to approach—
But the moment her eyes met Li Zhexian's, she froze, her expression turning frigid as she remained rooted to the spot.
Rustle—
Rustle—
Then, without warning—
A faint sound began to echo from the heavens.
At first soft, then growing louder, closer, heavier.
A black cloud descended from the sky—
And when it neared, the sound became clear: the countless flapping of wings, a chaotic storm of leathery flesh slicing through air.
A swarm of bats, too many to count, merged into a vast black cloud, blotting out the blood-red eye and circling above the arena.
The beating of their wings stirred a wind that sent the crimson mist around Li Zhexian roiling violently.
And then—
The next transformation occurred.
The endless bats disintegrated into streaks of black mist.
That mist howled as it gathered, condensing into a single, heavy mass of storm-dark clouds.
And within that suffocating darkness—
A pale figure, nearly three meters tall, slowly took form.
Its face could not be seen.
Only two blood-red eyes pierced through the veil of black fog, gazing down coldly upon them all.
That unnaturally tall frame—
Was draped in a blood-colored cloak that hung down to the clouds below.
The instant that being appeared—
The entire Hell Slaughter Arena began to quake.
A suffocating, tangible stench of blood flooded the darkness, as though it could drip from the very air.
Even the faintest ripple of its aura forced Li Zhexian, Qian Renxue, Hu Liena, and Tang San—the four victorious Seeds—back to the very edges of their platforms.
"This… is the Slaughter King?"
Qian Renxue's golden hair whipped wildly around her face as she raised an arm to shield her features.
A flicker of astonishment flashed deep within her golden eyes.
This aura—this pressure—was faintly comparable even to her grandfather's.
And a being on par with that man—
Could never be nameless.
"The Slaughter King must have come from the continent as well!"
"On the Douluo Continent, he must once have borne a name that shook the heavens!"
Just as that thought surged through her mind—
A warm hand closed around her own.
Qian Renxue turned her head—
And saw Li Zhexian's calm, resolute profile.
The storm within her heart slowly stilled.
"Li Zhexian…"
She had barely spoken—
When—
BOOM—!!!
In an instant, the darkness around them vanished.
The enormous Hell Slaughter Arena, covering nearly half the inner city, was laid bare before their eyes.
And in the spectator stands—
Tens of thousands of bloodstained faces, twisted with frenzy and madness, erupted into a deafening, eardrum-shredding chant:
"Slaughter King!"
"Slaughter King!"
Rustle—
Rustle—
From the heavens, the King's blood-red cloak rippled and billowed.
As he slowly raised his hand—
A torrential rain of blood began to fall.
The air grew thick with a nauseating yet strangely intoxicating metallic sweetness.
"Bloody Mary!"
Li Zhexian's eyes narrowed, sweeping over the crowd.
The tens of thousands of fallen ones raised their heads, mouths splitting grotesquely open to catch the descending crimson drops.
"Thank the Slaughter King for his grace!"
"Thank the Slaughter King for his grace!"
Tens of thousands roared in unison.
It was madness incarnate.
A living image of hell itself.
Through the misting rain of blood,
a hoarse, resounding voice rolled across the arena,
its weight shaking the downpour askew:
"I am pleased."
"Today, I witness the birth of four who have achieved a hundred victories."
"Such a sight has never graced the Slaughter City before—
and it happens under my rule."
"Their power, their killing intent—
Do they make you tremble, my children?"
"My faithful subjects…"
The rasping voice rolled and echoed,
so heavy that even the rain seemed to falter midair.
In the spectator stands—
Countless maddened figures rose, shrieking, clawing at the air, roaring their devotion to their King.
Only after several dozen breaths did the cries begin to fade.
The Slaughter King's blood-red gaze—twin beams cutting through the black clouds—swept over the four below.
"You have rekindled passion within me."
"To honor your achievement, I shall bestow upon you the title of Slaughter God."
"From this day forward, you may come and go freely within the Slaughter City—
honored as my guests."
That hoarse voice carried an authority that brooked no refusal.
"Do you accept?"
The mad audience howled in delirium—
But the four remained silent.
Li Zhexian turned slightly—
Meeting Qian Renxue's golden gaze, where a strange light flickered.
He understood.
To accept the King's offer—
Was to give up the ultimate reward of the Hell Road—the Killing God Domain.
To Li Zhexian, that domain was of little real value.
But there was one reason he could not accept—
The Yellow Springs Dew existed only within the Hell Road.