The brutal elimination match drew to a close. Tang San, wearing a silver butterfly-wing mask, bore numerous injuries. He gripped his Clear Sky Hammer, standing like an unshakable god of war. Around him lay nine incapacitated figures, no more, no less.
Just as the new rules dictated, Tang San had spared them all, but only by a thread.
In this city where the killing intent in one's heart grew increasingly potent, it was far more challenging to restrain the restless murderous aura and maintain a sliver of clear reason, controlling one's strength in this sole place where such an aura could be freely unleashed, than it was to simply kill competitors.
At first, he had thought the examiner who set this rule was soft-hearted, or perhaps still harbored a trace of kindness. But now, that thought was open to question.
For if one accidentally killed another on the battle platform, they would be fined five cups of Yellow Springs Dew.
Five cups of Yellow Springs Dew: either from one's own blood or by robbing others.
Normally, it would be the latter. But after their blood was drawn, the soul master would enter a period of weakness, likely falling prey to an opportunistic attack, which was tantamount to paying with their life.
Conversely, if these individuals managed to restrain their killing intent and hold back their power, their own strength would undergo a qualitative leap through such terrifyingly precise control.
Waiting for the referee to announce the victor of the match, Tang San, his face pale, presented a resolute back to the spectators.
Hesitation and doubt were left behind in his wake.
After his new battle record was registered, Tang San, unperturbed by the ill-intentioned gazes, walked out of the Hell Slaughtering Arena. The moment he stepped through the gate, streaks of afterimages flashed by, and Tang San himself was no longer in his original spot.
Some who had followed him out, having lost their chance, could only click their tongues inwardly.
The opponents faced in each ten-person elimination match had no soul power level restrictions. Since entering the Slaughter City, Tang San had, without exception, fought opponents of higher soul power levels.
Having lost his spirit skills, poison and hidden weapons, his other powerful spirit, the Clear Sky Hammer, and the Profound Heaven Skill became his greatest reliance. However, today's match had been exceptionally difficult, and even he could not escape exhaustion.
But were there not many hidden dragons and crouching tigers in the Slaughter City?
As he rounded the third dark alley, Tang San's outward spiritual power detected three other presences, neither too close nor too far, following him.
Tang San estimated his remaining stamina and the quantity of poisoned hidden weapons he possessed. His gaze darkened. As he rounded the fifth alley corner, he suddenly stopped, his eyelashes slightly lowered, concealing the cold glint in his eyes. He turned around, facing the empty, dim alleyway, and spoke coldly, "Come out."
His eyes, tinged with a faint violet-gold glow, blinked unceasingly. In his sight, the three individuals hiding in different locations, upon hearing his voice, faltered. They moved, and a black-robed soul master stood before Tang San, behind him, and diagonally above him.
A dense, inescapable scent of blood and palpable killing intent clung to them like leeches.
With their appearance, the nauseatingly strong smell of blood intensified, almost provoking a gag reflex.
Tang San's expression remained unchanged. He glanced at the black-robed soul master blocking his retreat behind him. He opened the five fingers of his scratched right hand, firmly gripping the dark Clear Sky Hammer crackling with faint electrical currents.
In the solidified air, every breath and every blink became prolonged.
The first to lose patience was the soul master directly confronting Tang San.
A massive iron ball flail was flung at Tang San the moment he raised his hand.
Cold light and killing intent erupted in Tang San's eyes. The veins on the back of his hand, gripping the Clear Sky Hammer, bulged, his arm muscles swelled, and he stomped his foot. With a crisp clang of metal against metal.
The incoming iron ball flail was sent flying by the 500-pound Clear Sky Hammer. The black-robed soul master, despite his huge frame, moved like a phantom, appearing and disappearing unpredictably. Facing the Clear Sky Hammer's ferocious downward strike, a malicious smile curved his lips. He flashed aside, moving along the shadows cast by the wall. To Tang San's disbelief and the black-robed soul master's trembling pupils, Tang San's hammer missed. The black-robed soul master, in his entirety, plunged into the shadows of the wall!
That's right, he melted into it!
—He could use spirit skills?!
This thought not only appeared in Tang San's mind but also in the minds of the other two soul masters who were about to move in coordination.
Their intended charging footsteps immediately braked, and they stared at the profound darkness ahead with uncertain eyes, making no move.
Tang San leaped away from the vicinity where the black-robed soul master had merged with the wall, creating a distance of over ten meters. He warily watched the now-deepening alley, lest the opponent suddenly emerge from some shadow to strike him… Hmm? Sultan Novel Network.
Tang San paused, suddenly having a sense of déjà vu.
Emerging from shadows?
Surrounded by a fortress built of ice and killing intent, Tang San suddenly thought of something, his pupils constricted sharply, and a mix of doubt and joy surged in his heart.
"Ah!"
A sharp cry suddenly came from the black-robed soul master on the rooftop, but it stopped after only two or three seconds, as if it had been choked off.
Tang San and the remaining black-robed soul master looked up, but the black-robed soul master was nowhere to be seen.
—Author's Notes—
Black-robed soul master: First, I must state that it wasn't me. Second, it really wasn't me. Lastly, it truly, truly wasn't me!