Everyone was devoting themselves to cultivation. All the great sects and powers of the continent were secretly stirring as well. Some chose to submit to Spirit Hall, while others turned to the two empires, hoping to forge alliances that could at least grant them some measure of safety.
The annihilation of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan had cast a chilling shadow across the entire soul master world. If even a clan as mighty as one of the Upper Three Sects could be completely wiped out, what force could consider itself safe?
That calamity had become the greatest deterrent of all.
In truth, most soul masters chose to bend the knee to Spirit Hall. For mankind, the instinct to worship strength was innate—and soul masters were no exception.
A year passed.
In the span of that year of closed-door cultivation, Chen Feng had reached his peak. His spirit power had successfully broken through Rank 90. Now, he stood only a single spirit ring away from the realm of a Titled Douluo.
As expected, this time the Asura God did not bestow upon him a divine spirit ring. Chen Feng had already foreseen this. The blood-red Nine-Headed Bat King—that was the gift the Asura God had prepared for him, and his true trial.
Packing lightly, Chen Feng set out once more on the path to the City of Slaughter.
This time, almost no one knew of his journey. Only the Sword Bone Duo and Ning Fengzhi were aware. After all, Chen Feng was now a combat force equivalent to a Titled Douluo. His very existence served as a deterrence—not only against petty enemies, but even against Spirit Hall, forcing them to hesitate before acting.
Through mountains, across rivers—
Chen Feng once again arrived at the City of Slaughter, hidden within an ancient, uninhabited range.
This time, no blood sacrifice was needed to open the gate. The aura of the Killing Domain alone was sufficient.
Dark-red sigils flared to life, summoning forth a familiar and mysterious power—the breath of the Asura God. Since completing the divine trials, Chen Feng's sensitivity to that aura had only grown keener.
A black passage opened, exhaling a chilling wind. Its end was shrouded in darkness, leading to unknown depths.
Without hesitation, Chen Feng stepped inside.
The sigils flashed once more and sealed behind him. The mountain range closed as though nothing had ever appeared there.
In the pitch-black tunnel, Chen Feng advanced.
Though his steps seemed unhurried, to an ordinary soul, it would have looked like nothing but a fleeting afterimage.
In less than five minutes, two massive, black gates loomed before him.
With a wave of his hand, the ancient doors groaned open, their weight reverberating like thunder.
"Who goes there!?"
The 108 heavy-armored death knights stationed at the gates turned as one. Their commander's face paled with shock—he had not sensed the slightest presence, and yet the gates had opened on their own, allowing a stranger to walk directly inside.
Then his eyes fell upon the massive sword etched with dark-red sigils—the Seven Kill Sword. What made his blood run cold were the eight stars upon its blade.
Black, black, black, black, black, red, red, red.
Each star represented a spirit ring. Though he had never seen such strange rings before, he could not mistake the oppressive aura unique to them.
"Those who trespass in the City of Slaughter—die!"
The black-armored knights mounted up, their heavy cavalry charge pressing forward like a moving wall.
Chen Feng merely lifted his eyelids. Within the Asura God's aura, he could also sense another presence—an insidious, corrupted force. It could only belong to the Rakshasa God.
The stench of Bloody Mary, filled with strange toxins, was not the handiwork of the Asura God. Though both were gods of slaughter, Asura's path was one of righteous killing intent, while Rakshasa's was far more sinister and depraved.
"All who have fallen under the Rakshasa God's taint—must die!"
Chen Feng's voice was cold as steel. Stepping once more into the City of Slaughter, it was as if he had returned to the days of the Hell Arena. His heart grew as cold and merciless as then.
A surge of soul power erupted as he thrust his palm forward.
Boom!
The earth itself trembled. The 108 heavy-armored knights shattered like clay dolls before his strike—flesh, steel, and bone alike pulverized into dust in an instant.
The shockwave tore through even the gates behind them, blasting them apart into fragments.
"Where is the King of Slaughter? Get out of here!"
Seven Kill Sword in hand, Chen Feng strode deeper into the city.
He needed no herald, no announcement. From afar, an equally powerful aura rose in answer.
Chen Feng felt it. And that presence, in turn, felt him.
A gaunt figure emerged, cloaked in blood-red robes. At once, a crimson domain spread outward, saturating the air with suffocating killing intent.
"Who dares disturb the City of Slaughter? Have you come so eagerly… to taste death?"
The King of Slaughter appeared.
No cheer followed. The oppressive clash between these two titans robbed every soul in the city of voice and strength. Whether they were enforcers of order or champions of the Hell Arena, all trembled, unable even to stand upright.
Here, soul power could not be used. For soul masters, it was a crippling restriction. Yet this rule did not bind the two before them. Their auras collided unrestrained, and the very blood within the city seemed to boil.
The King of Slaughter's gaze hardened. The opponent's martial spirit felt strangely familiar, and in his chest welled a deep unease.
Recognition dawned.
"It's you! Seven Kill Shura! You walked the Hell Road and received the Killing God Domain's gift!"
That was the title Chen Feng had earned in the Hell Arena.
The Seven Kill Sword pointed downward, his brows sharp as blades at his temples, his lips pressed in a thin, cold line. His eyes shone with unyielding steel.
"I wonder—should I call you Tang Chen now? Or the Crimson Nine-Headed Bat King?"
Chen Feng's voice was grim. His entire body was wound tight. This opponent was terrifying beyond compare—he could not allow a single mistake.
For what kind of creature could corrupt a Limit Douluo if not something monstrous, steeped in Rakshasa's power?
The cloaked figure descended slowly, halting three meters above the ground. Behind him, a pair of blood-red wings beat lightly against the air.
Chen Feng said nothing. His external spirit bone flared to life.
His own Killing Domain erupted—
and at his brow, a dark-red sigil lit, proclaiming him as one who bore the same level of authority as the King of Slaughter.
The ban on soul power collapsed under the clash of equals.
The King of Slaughter's pale face turned ashen with rage.
"Another chosen one of the trials?" he hissed. His voice was sharp, almost animalistic—perhaps that was the Bat King's true tone.
Still without words, Chen Feng's seventh spirit ring blazed.
Spirit Avatar—awakened!
In that instant, man and sword fused into one. Chen Feng achieved the pinnacle of the sword path: Unity of Man and Blade.
His fourth, seventh, and eighth spirit skills erupted simultaneously.
The amplification of his spirit rings drove his strength to unimaginable heights. At this moment, only a Rank 98+ Titled Douluo might dare face him directly.
The King of Slaughter cried out in shock:
"Your spirit rings' power… the rules of the City of Slaughter do not bind you!"
He retreated in alarm, the horns upon his head unleashing a wave of invisible sound.
Chen Feng's eyes flashed. From his hundred-thousand-year Spirit Wisdom Bone, pure spiritual force surged forth. The Sword Dao's Heavenly Eye pierced through.
Two forces collided head-on. The entire underground world shuddered violently.
"Fool! You'll destroy the City of Slaughter itself!" the King of Slaughter snarled, his face twisting hideously.
Blood-red wings spread wide, his body bursting with scarlet light.
His true form manifested—the Crimson Nine-Headed Bat King. Behind him, eight shadowy visages hovered, while his hands twisted into razor claws.
"Blood Slaughter!"
Three crimson shockwaves slashed outward.
But with a sweep of the Seven Kill Sword, the dark-red sigils devoured them.
Three rings' worth of fusion power—how could an ordinary skill resist?
With a flap of his sword-wings, Chen Feng soared in pursuit.
But suddenly, the Bat King's cloak flared. It ballooned into a vast canopy spanning nearly a thousand meters, blotting out the sky of the City of Slaughter.
On his brow, a purple spiderweb sigil flashed. Chen Feng's chest constricted, breath stolen by an overwhelming pressure.
"Shriek!"
The Bat King let out a piercing cry, his eyes burning blood-red. His speed exploded, leaving only afterimages in the air.
Chen Feng countered with Divine Dragon Nine Shadows, retreating instantly.
In the blink of an eye, the Bat King appeared where he had stood, crimson claws gouging the ground. A massive black crater, dozens of meters across, yawned open.
From below, crimson liquid boiled like magma, countless white bones rising within it.
Chen Feng's cold snort split the air as the Seven Kill Sword thrust again.
Clang!
Sword and claw met, exploding with terrifying force. But this time, Chen Feng's sword was pinned—the Bat King's claws locking it down with crushing strength.
His breath caught in shock.
Even now, his Seven Kill Sword was half a divine weapon. Yet even so, he could not pull it free!