Douluo Continent: The Twin Holy Dragons of Light and Darkness, the Dragon Emperor Breaks Through the

The King of Slaughter looked at him.

Tang Hao was silent for a moment, then said, "You remind me of someone."

The King of Slaughter remained silent.

He stood by the window, looking at the blood-red sky, a hint of bewilderment flashing in his eyes.

A person.

He couldn't remember who he was, where he came from, or why he was there.

All he knew was that he was the King of Slaughter, the First Worshipper of the God of Asura, and the ruler of this city.

I don't remember anything else.

He looked down at his hands, which were as white as bone and covered with blood-red lines.

It's exactly the same as Tang Hao's hand.

The night in the city of slaughter is always blood red.

Two people standing in the shadow of the Asura God, one who has forgotten the past, and the other who has given up his name.

They are waiting, waiting for someone they themselves don't even know who they are.

The King of Slaughter sat on the stone chair, holding a glass of scarlet liquid in his hand, seemingly never putting it down.

He raised his head and looked at Tang Hao, his bloodshot eyes filled with no doubt, only anticipation.

"I'm leaving," Tang Hao said.

The King of Slaughter did not speak, but simply nodded.

Tang Hao looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly asked, "Do you know what it's like outside?"

The King of Slaughter paused slightly in the hand holding his wine glass. "Outside?"

"The mainland. The Spirit Hall, the Clear Sky Sect, two great empires." Tang Hao's voice was calm.

"How long have you been here? Ten years? A hundred years? Do you know what the outside world has become?"

The King of Slaughter put down his wine glass, stood up, and walked to the window.

Outside, the sky was blood red, the streets were blood red, and the city was a blood-red massacre.

He didn't answer, but just stared at the blood-red expanse, his gaze calm as still water.

"I don't remember."

He finally spoke, his voice very soft.

"All I remember is that a long, long time ago, there was someone who was very important to me, and I needed to fulfill her promise."

"But I don't remember who she is, I don't remember her face, I don't remember her name."

Tang Hao fell silent.

Looking at the King of Slaughter's back, that tall and lonely figure, he suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

He didn't know what he was feeling sad about. Maybe he was sad about the king who had forgotten who he was, or maybe he was sad about himself.

"I'm leaving." Tang Hao turned around.

"and many more."

The voice of the King of Slaughter came from behind.

Tang Hao stopped walking without turning around.

"Don't forget the task the Lord has given you."

Tang Hao's pupils contracted slightly.

The task Shura God gave him was to cause trouble for the Spirit Hall.

The moment he woke up, a divine thought appeared in his mind, clear and irresistible.

That wasn't an order, but a brand, a brand etched deep into his soul.

He didn't know why the God of Asura was causing trouble for the Spirit Hall, and he didn't need to know.

All he needed to know was that this mission coincided with his revenge.

"I won't forget." Tang Hao pushed open the door and went out.

Behind him, the King of Slaughter stood by the window, watching the disappearing figure, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes.

He always felt that the person was familiar, as if he had seen him a long, long time ago.

But he couldn't remember.

The night in the city of slaughter is always blood red.

The King of Slaughter stood by the window, looking at the crimson expanse, when a blurry image suddenly flashed through his mind.

A majestic mountain peak, a giant hammer, and an old man with white hair.

The old man looked at him, his eyes filled with disappointment.

He turned around abruptly and looked at the empty stone chamber.

There was no one, nothing at all.

He didn't know why he remembered that scene, who the old man was, or what the hammer was.

All he knew was that the scene broke his heart.

He looked down at his hands, which were as white as bone.

He suddenly remembered Tang Hao's hands, which were exactly the same as his.

"Who am I?" he murmured.

No one answered.

Only his own echoes reverberated in the stone chamber, one after another, gradually fading away.

Outside the City of Slaughter, Tang Hao stood under the blood-red sky and glanced back at the city that was forever shrouded in blood.

He recalled the face of the King of Slaughter, that cold and pale face.

He felt he had seen it somewhere before, a long, long time ago.

But he couldn't remember.

Perhaps it was just an illusion, or perhaps it was just the power of the Asura God at work; he didn't know.

All he knew was that he was still alive.

Living with hatred, he turned around and strode into the distance.

Behind them, the outline of the killing city gradually blurred and finally disappeared into the blood-red sky.

In his mind, a divine thought remained as clear as yesterday—"Make trouble for the Spirit Hall."

Tang Hao clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking.

"The Spirit Hall, a thousand years of valiant night, a thousand-mile journey."

"You wait, I, Tang Hao, am back!"

The realm of gods, the realm of Asura gods.

Endless crimson clouds surged, beneath which lay a pitch-black palace.

There was no light in the palace, only eternal crimson and darkness, as if the laws of the entire divine realm were concentrated here.

Trial, killing, judgment.

The Asura God sat high on the throne.

He wasn't particularly tall, yet he exuded an irresistible sense of oppression.

"The Spirit Hall... should no longer exist."

"Just like the previous generation of angel god... Qian Yuhan!"

Chapter 107 Past Events of the Divine Realm

The Asura God's blood-red hair reached his waist, his face was cold and stern as if carved by a knife, and his eyes were as red as congealed blood.

He rested his chin on one hand and placed the other on the armrest of the throne, his fingertips lightly tapping the black metal, producing a rhythmic sound like a heartbeat.

He was thinking about someone.

A person who no longer exists.

Angel God.

Outside the palace, blood-red clouds churned, emitting a low rumble.

The Asura God's gaze pierced through the void, through the layers of barriers of the divine realm, and landed on the vast continent of the lower realm.

But what he was looking at was not the mainland, nor the human world, but that vacant divine position.

The divine position of the angel god.

That divine position has been slowly dissipating.

It's not a collapse, not a shattering, but a slower, quieter disappearance, like ice melting in the sunlight, little by little, silently.

When the vacancy is completely vacant, he will be able to take over those overlapping permissions.

Trial, judgment, punishment. Those things were never meant for her.

He closed his eyes.

The images in my mind went back to a long time ago, back to that day.

On that day, the angel stood before him.

That was in his Asura God Realm, beneath his throne.

She stood there, her long golden hair cascading down like a waterfall, her golden eyes showing no fear, no fawning, only tranquility.

That tranquility made him uneasy. In his divine realm, under his oppressive aura, no god could remain calm.