Xiao Yun glanced back at her. The girl's eyes were filled with earnest concern, her lively gaze fixed unblinkingly on him, as though she feared he would never return once he left.
Warmth stirred in Xiao Yun's heart. He reached out and patted the back of her hand, saying softly, "Don't worry. These things can't hurt me."
Ling'er bit her lip, but finally let go. "Then I'll wait for you here," she whispered. "You have to come back as soon as you're done."
"All right."
Xiao Yun turned and strode toward the entrance to the iron enclosure. A Slaughter Guard opened the gate, and he stepped inside.
The iron gate closed behind him with a dull clang.
The spectators outside the bars turned their gazes toward him, sizing up the newcomer.
Xiao Yun wore an ordinary black robe. His face was young, his aura restrained; nothing about him seemed remarkable.
Across from him stood a middle-aged man.
The man was thin and wiry, with a pinched face. His triangular eyes darted about, betraying a sleazy cunning.
He held a short dagger whose blade gleamed a sinister blue, clearly coated in poison.
He looked Xiao Yun over, then glanced down at the record board hanging outside the bars. An ugly grin spread across his face.
Zero wins, zero losses.
A newcomer.
The middle-aged man licked his lips, a flicker of greed crossing his eyes.
Newcomers like this were the easiest to deal with. Inexperienced and unprepared, they could often be finished off in a single exchange.
He could already imagine another win added to his record, the Yellow Springs Dew beckoning to him.
Outside the bars, a Slaughter Guard stepped forward. His gaze swept over the two men, and he said coldly, "A fight to the death. No rules. Begin."
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