Douluo Continent: My Martial Soul is the Black Dragon, I am the Lord of the Gods

Chapter 295 Hell's Killing Fields - Hades
……

A year is but a fleeting moment in the eternally clamorous blood-soaked furnace of the Killing City.

The inner city, a hellish killing field.

The stands were still filled with madmen, screaming wildly, driven mad by the bloodshed and slaughter.

In the center of the arena, a ten-person melee had just ended. The victor, dragging his battered body, staggered away amidst deafening cheers and curses.

The host, a pale-faced, shrill-voiced middle-aged man, floated in mid-air, trying to stir up the atmosphere: "Next round! We need ten brave warriors! Please the King of Slaughter with blood and death! Those who register will receive..."

His voice stopped abruptly.

Because when he habitually looked towards the registration area, it was completely empty.

The passageway, which should have been crowded with desperados, was now only filled with cold stone walls.

The noise in the stands also subsided strangely, and countless eyes unconsciously glanced towards a corner of the audience.

There, a figure sat quietly.

She was still wearing that simple black robe, with her long, flowing silver-white hair.

The pair of ferocious black dragons behind him seemed even more solid, their icy dragon eyes sweeping across the entire scene, making everyone who met their gaze feel as if they had fallen into an ice cave.

He didn't hold the fearsome blood spear in his hand; it was just casually rested on his knee, his fingertips tapping it lightly.

Pluto

Hellish Slaughter Arena, 50-game winning streak.

This number is not unprecedented in the history of the Killing City, but the way it was achieved is enough to chill all who hear it.

His matches could not be called battles, but slaughters!

There are no techniques involved; often, it's just a flash of blood, and no one even sees how he moves before his opponent is reduced to a skeleton, his life force devoured by that eerie blood spear.

The speed was so fast it was despairing, and the cruelty was so great that even the most bloodthirsty depraved felt physically uncomfortable.

In the first few months, some reckless outlaws or powerful individuals secretly encouraged by the King of Slaughter attempted to challenge it, but without exception, they all became nourishment for the Blood Spear.

Until about three months ago, the situation changed.

No one dared to sign up to compete against Xuanming anymore.

The rule for the Hell Killing Arena is that it can only be opened when ten people are present.

When no one is willing to be one of the other nine, the winning streak is forced to stop.

The rules of the Killing City have been challenged for the first time – the Hell Killing Arena cannot force players to participate.

A match cannot be held if everyone refuses to play against a particular person.

Thus, a strange phenomenon occurred in this city of sin: Hades, the candidate for the God of Slaughter who had achieved a fifty-game winning streak, found himself in the awkward situation of having no matches to play because no one dared to oppose him.

But he was clearly not idle.

In the past two months, the atmosphere in the inner and outer cities of the Killing City, two areas that were already chaotic and where the strong preyed on the weak, has become even more bizarre and terrifying.

Xuanming's figure is like a nightmare, often appearing in dirty streets, dark alleys, and even outside the "safe houses" of some degenerates.

He wasn't actively engaging in mass slaughter; it was more like he was... searching.

Search for those lucky ones who are "right".

Nobody knows what his standards are.

Sometimes, he would let a seemingly vicious thug go.

Sometimes, however, they might suddenly attack someone who is huddled in a corner and seems harmless.

His reason was shockingly simple: "Your murderous aura... doesn't feel right."

Or to put it more bluntly: "I don't like the look of you."

The real reason, perhaps, is only known to him.

He was forging something through constant killing—perhaps killing intent, perhaps the increasingly eerie blood spear, or perhaps his own unfathomable power.

This completely unpredictable and illogical "random" killing inflicted psychological torment on all survivors far exceeding that of a hellish killing field.

Everyone lives in fear, not knowing if the nemesis will appear in front of them at any moment.

The host, his forehead beaded with cold sweat and his voice hoarse, repeated himself, even raising the prize—an extra ten cups of precious "Yellow Spring Dew".

However, only deathly silence answered him.

Xuanming, who was in the corner, seemed to be used to this scene. He slowly stood up.

In an instant, the entire hellish killing field seemed to be frozen, all noise completely disappeared, and even breathing was suppressed to the extreme.

Countless eyes followed his figure in fear, lest the killing god might, in a moment of displeasure, clear the area out.

Xuanming didn't look at anyone and walked straight towards the exit.

Wherever it passed, the crowd parted like a tide, leaving behind a wide, deathly silent passage.

He doesn't care whether the winning streak continues.

For him, the hellish killing field was merely a place to acquire the necessary "qualifications," not the goal itself. Since there was no "nourishment" here, he naturally had to look elsewhere.

……

The City of Slaughter, Between the Thrones.

The King of Slaughter's crimson eyes peered through the endless blood mist at the scene reflected in the crystal ball—Xuanming slowly walked out of the hellish slaughter arena, his figure blending into the chaotic and filthy streets of the outer city.

He slammed his fist on the armrest of the throne, and the solid, unidentified bone material instantly cracked.

"Trash! A bunch of trash!"

The furious roar shook the entire hall, causing the blood mist to churn.

The black-armored knights standing below fell silent, bowing their heads deeply.

"Three whole months! Not a single match for him! When did my City of Slaughter become a land of charity?!" The King of Slaughter's rage was almost tangible. "Those scum would rather die than step onto the field?!"

A knight commander stepped forward with a stiff upper lip: "Your Majesty... it's not that you're afraid to go on stage, it's that no one... dares to go on stage with you. We've tried to arrange it secretly, but... those arranged either die unexpectedly beforehand or disappear completely. And..."

The knight commander's voice carried a hint of fear: "He...he seems to know we sent him. The person we sent to manipulate public opinion last time was found hanging at the inner city gate the next day, drained dry..."

The King of Slaughter's breathing became heavy, his scarlet eyes filled with savagery, yet also mixed with a trace of helpless frustration.

His original plan was to use the rules of the Hell Killing Field to continuously arrange powerful opponents for Xuanming, and even devise a plan to surround and kill him, so as to eventually leave this threat completely on the field.

As long as it conforms to the "rules," the woman can't say anything.

But now?

Nobody fought him!
It seemed that Xuanming had not come to conquer the Hell Road or acquire a domain at all.

He was like a hungry wolf that had broken into a sheepfold, purely for killing and devouring!

In the past two months, although Xuanming did not enter the killing field, the number of "abnormal casualties" in the killing city has risen sharply.

Especially those powerful and infamous figures in the inner and outer cities often disappear inexplicably, and when they are occasionally found, all that remains are withered skeletons drained of their life force.

This guy is treating Kill City like a buffet!

The King of Slaughter could even sense that the strange blood spear, after devouring so much life and soul power, was emitting an increasingly terrifying aura, making him feel vaguely uneasy.

What made him even more hesitant to act was that woman—Bibi Dong!

The chilling warning and unfathomable power from a year ago are still vivid in my mind.

He had no doubt that if he personally took action or used methods outside the rules to target Xuanming, that crazy woman would definitely break the agreement and personally break in!

At that point, it won't just be a matter of losing a few fallen ones, but whether he, the King of Slaughter, can still hold his position!

"Damn it! Damn it!" the King of Slaughter roared, crushing the armrests of his throne into pieces.

His biggest regret now is why he didn't just reject that woman outright! Now look what happened—it's easy to invite a god in, but hard to send him away!
This Xuanming is simply a plague god!

A lawless plague god who is also protected by top-level experts!

He no longer looked forward to Xuanming's "performance" on the killing field. He only hoped that this evil star would hurry up and finish his performance, rush to that damned Hell Road, and then get out of his killing city!
He even started to consider whether to secretly reduce the difficulty of the Hell Road, or... simply find an excuse to let him pass directly?

The moment this thought popped into his head, even the King of Slaughter himself found it absurd and frustrating.

He, the ruler of the City of Slaughter, the King of Slaughter who strikes fear into the hearts of all, was actually forced by a kid who hadn't even obtained the God of Slaughter Domain to think about how to give him a back door and beg him to leave quickly.

What a shame!
Just then, the scene inside the crystal ball changed.

Xuanming, who was walking on the streets of the outer city, suddenly stopped.

His gaze fell in one direction.

There, a man of exceptionally tall and robust stature, wielding a massive blood-red and purple-gold hammer, had just snapped the neck of an attacker. He exuded a domineering killing intent, and judging from the fluctuations in his soul power, he was clearly a Soul Saint-level expert. Moreover, he seemed to have only recently entered the City of Slaughter and had not yet fully adapted to the rules here, his eyes still retaining the ferocity and arrogance of the outside world.

Xuanming's icy blue eyes lit up slightly, as if a hunter had spotted prey worth hunting.

The two black dragons behind him seemed to get excited as well, letting out silent hisses.

The King of Slaughter felt a chill run down his spine upon seeing this.

He vaguely remembered that idiot with the purple-gold hammer. He was a ruthless character who had joined in the last few months and had achieved more than ten consecutive victories in the Hell Killing Arena. He was one of the pieces he originally planned to use to snipe Xuanming in the later stages.

But now...

"No...no good!" The King of Slaughter suddenly stood up.

However, before he could react, an intense white light shone from inside the crystal ball, and Xuanming's figure transformed into a blurry black line within the white light, carrying a chilling aura as he rushed straight towards the Purple Gold Hammer Soul Saint!
The King of Slaughter closed his eyes in anguish.

He knew that the "pawn" he had painstakingly selected was about to be lost again!

"Quickly..." The King of Slaughter practically gritted his teeth as he squeezed out the command.

"Investigate! Find out which other capable and fearless idiots have just entered! Find a way... no! Directly 'invite' them to the Hell Slaughter Arena!"

"Tell them that as long as they are willing to sign up and compete with Xuanming, I will guarantee them enough Yellow Spring Dew for three years! No! Five years!"

The King of Slaughter slumped on his throne, feeling more exhausted and frustrated than ever before.

In all his years of ruling the killing capital, this was the first time he had encountered such a "plague god" that he couldn't fight, couldn't stop, and had to hope that the other party would quickly achieve its goal and then be sent away!
He only wanted one thing now: for this guy to quickly reach 100 wins and then, along with his equally formidable female companion, to get out of his killing city immediately!
(End of this chapter)