Zhang Tie slowly opened his eyes, feeling a faint wave of dizziness wash over his head. As his vision gradually cleared, he found himself in an enormous plaza several hundred zhang wide.
The plaza was tightly enclosed by towering, majestic stone walls, while layer upon layer of densely packed stone seats were arranged in neat rows around it.
"Welcome to the Great Desolate Sect Beast Arena!" Suddenly, an inexplicable voice exploded out of nowhere like thunder. Immediately afterward, an illusory figure appeared without warning, floating not far above Zhang Tie's head.
This phantom had the head of a tiger and the upright body of a man. Enormous, terrifying fleshy wings grew from its back, and two incomparably sharp fangs protruded from its mouth. Its appearance was truly chilling.
"Who are you?" Zhang Tie asked solemnly, his brow furrowing slightly.
"I am the 137th adjudicator of the Beast Arena. You may call me Lord Bat-Tiger," the phantom said. Its voice seemed to drift from distant, unfathomable voids, carrying an indescribably ethereal quality.
"Very well, Lord Bat-Tiger. What exactly am I supposed to do here?" Zhang Tie immediately asked, his gaze full of confusion and vigilance.
"This is a beast-fighting arena, so naturally, you will duel. Victors may proceed to the next stage and obtain a body technique inheritance. Losers will be teleported away. You are at the Late Stage of Marrow Forging Realm, and your opponent will be of equal cultivation," the phantom said unhurriedly, without the slightest emotional fluctuation, as though an unfeeling god were announcing predetermined rules.
Zhang Tie was about to ask something else when the phantom suddenly roared again, "The first match begins now!"
The moment its words fell, an incomparably dazzling white light poured down from the sky without warning. A wild boar covered in jet-black