Douluo Continent: My name is Yang Jian, and I achieved sainthood through my physical body

Normally, Yang Jian would have to participate in the Hell Slaughter Arena tournament and achieve a hundred consecutive wins before he could meet the King of Slaughter.

But it was too much trouble, and he didn't want to waste his time.

He felt it would be better to make a big fuss so that the other party would come to him on their own initiative.

Yang Jian stopped, looked around, and then leaped onto the roof of a building.

He stood on the rooftop, scanning his surroundings.

The buildings of the Killing City are densely packed together, like a gray mushroom, crammed together and stretching as far as the eye can see.

But in the distance stood a castle, very tall and very large, entirely black, its spire piercing the dark sky, standing out prominently among the low buildings around it.

That must be the residence of the King of Slaughter.

Yang Jian jumped down from the roof and walked towards the castle. His pace was neither too fast nor too slow, but he moved very quickly. He crossed several streets and bypassed several piles of ruins, and soon arrived at the castle gate.

The castle gate was black, with two doors joined together, standing three zhang high and one zhang wide, with countless skulls and distorted human faces carved on them.

A dark red light shone through the crack in the door, staining the steps in front of it blood red.

Two burly men stood in front of the door, each over two meters tall, with broad shoulders and thick waists, and grayish-white skin, looking like dead men.

Their eyes were blood red with vertical pupils, and they had two fangs protruding from the corners of their mouths. They wore black armor, wielded huge spiked clubs, and exuded a tyrannical aura.

As Yang Jian walked up the steps, two burly men simultaneously raised their spiked clubs, crossing them to block his way.

"Halt! The palace of the King of Slaughter is off-limits to unauthorized personnel!" The burly man on the left had a sinister voice.

Chapter 147 King of Slaughter

Yang Jian did not stop.

He raised his right fist and punched the burly man on the left in the chest.

The burly man's breastplate caved in, and he slammed into the castle gate with a dull thud before sliding to the ground, where he lay motionless.

The burly man on the right was stunned. Before he could react, Yang Jian's fist had already landed on his face. His head exploded like a watermelon, his body swayed twice, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Yang Jian shook the blood off his hands, walked to the front door, placed his hands on the door panel, and pushed hard.

The door panel is very heavy.

He estimated that even a powerful Title Douluo would not be able to push open these two doors with sheer strength.

But unfortunately, I met him.

The Eight-Nine Arcane Arts increased his power to a level that even he himself did not know the upper limit of.

Who in this world can surpass him in strength?

He didn't think so.

The door opened slowly as he pushed it open, making a heavy creaking sound.

The door hinges turned, and gravel fell from the lintel.

Behind the door was a long corridor, with countless skulls embedded in the walls on both sides. Eerie green flames burned in the eyes of the skulls, making the corridor look sinister and terrifying.

Yang Jian walked in, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

He walked a dozen steps and then two people appeared in front of him. They were both wearing red robes and had red hair, but their skin was very white, as white as paper, and their pupils were unfocused.

These two individuals possessed very strong auras, at the Title Douluo level, and moreover, they were Title Douluos who had been granted special privileges.

In the City of Slaughter, no one except the King of Slaughter can use soul power.

But these two were exceptions; they were granted the privilege of using soul power by the King of Slaughter.

In this environment, they are practically invincible.

After all, the others can't use soul power and can only fight with their physical bodies.

And they can use their soul skills at will.

"Halt!" The red-haired man on the left raised his hand, palm facing Yang Jian. "The palace of the King of Slaughter is not a place for you. Step back, and we can pretend nothing happened."

Yang Jian looked at them and said calmly, "I want to see the King of Slaughter."

The two redheads exchanged a glance, and the one on the right sneered, "Who do you think you are? Do you think you can just see the King of Slaughter whenever you want? If you don't leave, don't blame us for being impolite."

Yang Jian knew that he had no choice but to resort to force.

He flipped his right hand, and a three-pointed, double-edged sword appeared in his palm.

The blade grows longer as it faces the wind, instantly becoming three meters long.

The silver-white blade gleamed coldly in the eerie green firelight, and the three-pointed edge trembled slightly, emitting a soft hum.

The pupils of both redheads contracted simultaneously.

They stared in disbelief at the knife in Yang Jian's hand.

"You...you can summon a Martial Soul?" The red-haired man on the left was filled with disbelief, his eyes wide with shock. "In the City of Slaughter, apart from the King of Slaughter, no one can use Soul Power. How could you possibly summon a Martial Soul? Unless...unless you're a Title Douluo! But your age..."

The redhead on the right reacted faster.

His face darkened, and he whispered to his companion, "Don't be careless, finish this quickly!"

Both of them simultaneously possessed martial spirits.

The person on the left had dark red scales appear on their body, their hands turned into claws, and a pair of bat-like wings grew from their back.

The person on the right grew taller, his muscles bulged, and his skin turned grayish-white, like stone.

The two men pounced on Yang Jian from the left and right.

"Humph!"

Yang Jian did not retreat, but raised his three-pointed double-edged sword and charged forward.

He slashed at the red-haired man on his left, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp whistling sound.

The redhead raised his claws to block, the blade collided with the claws, the claws were sliced ​​open like tofu, and his arm was severed from the elbow, blood gushing out.

"what!!!"

He screamed and fell backward.

Yang Jian then swung his sword backhand, slashing horizontally from right to left, cutting the red-haired man on the right in half at the waist.

The man's body was split in two. His upper body flew out and crashed into the wall. He didn't die immediately; he struggled on the ground for a few moments before finally passing away.

The red-haired man with the missing arm on the left was still rolling on the ground, blood gushing from his severed arm, staining his red robe.

Yang Jian walked over, raised the knife, and pointed it at his head.

Just then, a deep voice came from the depths of the corridor.

"stop!"

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority that echoed throughout the corridor.

Yang Jian stopped, no longer bringing down the knife, but instead raised his head and looked towards the end of the corridor.

Then a figure emerged from the darkness.

The man was burly, over two meters tall, with long, blood-red hair cascading over his shoulders. His face was resolute and dignified, but his skin was pale and bloodless.

His eyes were also blood red, with vertical pupils and a slightly ambiguous, almost smiling curve.

He wore a long black robe embroidered with blood-red patterns, the patterns resembling blood vessels, with a faint light flowing within them.

He exuded an eerie and evil aura.

The aura was a mixture of power, brutality, and madness, sending chills down one's spine.

King of Slaughter!

Yang Jian looked at him, a slight smile playing on her lips, and called out.

"Tang Chen".

This sound clearly reached the ears of the King of Slaughter.

Upon hearing this, the King of Slaughter's body stiffened abruptly.

His eyes widened, his pupils contracted sharply, and the expression on his face changed from stern to confused, and then from confused to pain.

He raised his hand to cover his head, dug his fingers into his hair and pulled hard, his face contorted and ferocious, and let out a low growl.

"Tang Chen... Tang Chen..." he murmured to himself, his voice hoarse and incoherent, "This name... this name sounds so familiar... Who... who am I..."

However, the King of Slaughter quickly raised his head again, his blood-red eyes fixed on Yang Jian.

His eyes no longer held confusion or pain, only pure killing intent.

He originally didn't want to do anything to Yang Jian, thinking that this young man was exceptionally talented, able to summon a martial soul in the City of Slaughter, and had reached the level of a Title Douluo at a young age, and could be cultivated into a new King of Slaughter.

But now, all he wants is to kill this person.

The name Tang Chen is his taboo, his secret, and something he least wants others to know.

This boy must die.

"You bastard!!"

Nine soul rings appeared beneath the feet of the King of Slaughter.

Two yellow, two purple, four black, and one red.

The nine spirit rings shone brightly under the eerie green flames, with the red 100,000-year spirit ring being particularly dazzling.

His aura surged, and his oppressive force pressed down on Yang Jian as if it were a physical entity, causing the skulls on the walls on both sides of the corridor to tremble slightly.

Yang Jian did not back down, and the spirit rings beneath his feet also lit up.

Black, black, black, black, red, red, red.

Four black and three red.

Seven spirit rings swirled around him, emanating an aura completely different from that of the King of Slaughter.

His aura was equally powerful.