Dugu Feng still had one thought he hadn't spoken aloud.
If the King of Slaughter was about to make his move, then the time to confront him was drawing near.
Why should he be afraid of being noticed anymore?
"I've stayed in the City of Slaughter long enough. The groundwork has been laid. It's time to push for my one hundred victories! From sixty wins to one hundred, strength is only part of it…this is a game of chess with the King of Slaughter himself."
His eyes were calm, his thoughts already sharp as blades.
A few days later.
Outside the Hell Killing Fields.
Tang Cheng had just finished a match, raising his win streak to eighty-five.
His face was indifferent. The fight had hardly been a challenge.
The other nine opponents had been smashed into pulp beneath his Clear Sky Hammer, nothing more than clay chickens and pottery dogs.
He was used to this scene by now.
Only fifteen more victories. Fifteen more, and he could step onto the Hell Road like his idol before him!
Inside, he was trembling with excitement.
In the City of Slaughter, no one was his match anymore.
The only thing that irritated him was the schedule. The arena dragged its feet, and matches arranged far too slowly.
If not for that, he would have already hit one hundred wins!
But just as he stepped out onto the street Tang Cheng froze.
His eyes darted left and right.
Then, with a sudden turn, he started to retreat.
Boom! Boom!
From the arena's doors poured out a flood of people—hundreds at least—blocking the entire entrance.
These were the same spectators who had been watching his match. He thought they had come only to observe, that they'd leave when the fight ended.
But no—
they hadn't come to watch the fight.
They had come for him.
Turning again, Tang Cheng looked down the street.
Rustle, rustle—
From both ends of the avenue, black masses surged forward, a tide of bodies closing in from all directions.
People streamed out of alleys, out of side streets, pressing toward the center—toward him.
Tang Cheng's heart jolted. Who? Who could rally so many people to kill me?
The King of Slaughter? Impossible. If the King wanted him dead, he'd never need to use such methods.
A suffocating killing intent burst from Tang Cheng, cold and vicious.
The violent Clear Sky Hammer materialized in his grip.
Here, the slightest show of weakness meant being torn apart.
Only by risking everything could he have a slight chance of survival!
Among the crowd, Mo Li's blood surged, his spirit aflame with manic excitement.
Nearly two thousand fighters had gathered.
No matter the outcome, this night would shake the entire City of Slaughter.
Tang Cheng—someone I never even dared to dream of touching? Tonight, I'll kill you!
Mo Li's eyes burned with madness.
Blades gleamed under the purple moonlight.
Knives, spears, axes, spiked clubs and even bows.
Weapons of every kind glinted in chaotic rows.
Some wielders were skin and bones, clearly recruits from the outer city.
But they had been fed Blood Mary, given one full meal.
And with that, they dared to bare their fangs.
"Who dares?!"
Tang Cheng's roar shook the heavens. His voice alone pressed down on hearts.
"It is your grandma!" (T/N : LMAO. This is an actual dialogue)
Mo Li bellowed back, pouring every shred of his being into the shout.
He had to break the fear his men felt toward Tang Cheng.
"It is your grandma!"
Hundreds of throats roared in unison, surging forward like a tidal wave.
"Kill!"
"Cut him down!"
"Loose the arrows!"
The leaders knew that only by drowning fear in a storm of shouts could their mob hold together.
The battle erupted instantly.
Weapons and arrows rained toward Tang Cheng at the center.
The scene devolved into bloody chaos.
In a shadowed corner, Dugu Feng leaned casually against a wall, quietly admiring the spectacle.
He was pleased. Very pleased.
"Phantom Thousand Mechanisms."
The instant he whispered, the mob's spirits blazed higher.
The mental toxin ignited, their killing intent boiling over.
Minds filled with bloodlust, they charged with abandon.
This was the City of Slaughter. Killing was the only truth.
Blood sprayed, painting the streets red.
Even Mo Li and the other leaders, who had planned to slip back into the crowd during the charge, found themselves consumed.
Dugu Feng's poison roused their own killing urges, making them charge even harder at the front lines.
With the leaders throwing their lives away, the mob lost all hesitation.
They swallowed Tang Cheng in a wave of bodies.
The center became a sea of blood. Flesh and gore splattered, driving the frenzied fighters into even deeper madness.
Their goal was singular—kill the man with the hammer.
"Hmm?"
Dugu Feng's eyes narrowed.
From an alley burst more than ten figures, charging straight into the mob.
Killing indiscriminately, forcing their way toward the center.
That alley… wasn't it the way to Tang Cheng's residence?
So he did have loyal followers!
Dugu Feng had thought that, with such overwhelming numbers, they'd scatter like rats.
Yet these ten threw themselves forward like moths to flame.
He moved.
"Phantom Thousand Mechanisms. Jade Phosphorus Twelve Fingers!"
He had to act personally. Tang Cheng could not be allowed to live.
His target was a soul master with a long blade.
That weapon was very familiar.
Years ago, when he had absorbed his first spirit ring, Xiahou Yu of the Xiahou Clan had died before him, wielding the same blade.
This man's martial spirit was identical.
So, a vassal of the Clear Sky Sect? No wonder he was so loyal.
By the time Dugu Feng closed in, the rest of the ten had already been slaughtered.
Only the blade wielder remained, his body covered in wounds.
At best a Soul Ancestor, and without spirit skills to rely on—even with a domineering weapon spirit, he was doomed under such numbers.
"Leave him alive."
Dugu Feng's voice was cold as he stepped up.
"You? You're the one behind this? You want to kill Boss Cheng?"
The man's eyes filled with despair.
Of course he recognized Dugu Feng…the rising star with sixty straight wins.
If he was here, then Tang Cheng's chances were all but gone.
Even if the mob failed to kill him, Dugu Feng's poison would finish it.
With a bitter laugh, he raised his blade and drew it across his own throat.
But Dugu Feng only sneered.
"In front of me, you don't get to die. Even if you want to, I won't let you."
A single finger strike sent the blade flying.
Dugu Feng seized the wounded man and dragged him into a nearby room.
He hadn't even asked his questions yet.
Why was Tang Cheng here?
What had truly happened to the Clear Sky Sect back then?
Dugu Feng wanted answers.