Taking the Bait

On the arena, Zhao Hao's opponent was Zhao Kun.

Zhao Kun wielded a pair of black iron short halberds and had won all three of his matches yesterday with ruthless strikes.

The two stood facing each other.

"I heard you won quite easily yesterday," Zhao Kun said in a gravelly voice. "Too bad you ran into me today."

Zhao Hao said nothing, slowly drawing his long sword.

The blade was narrow and long, shimmering with a cold, cyan-gray light.

"Don't play the fool," Zhao Kun spat. "I've seen plenty of people like you. All show on the arena, but once you see real blood, your legs turn to jelly."

He hadn't even finished speaking.

Zhao Hao moved.

Instead of attacking, he retreated half a step, his sword tip drooping toward the ground, effectively forfeiting the initiative.

Zhao Kun was stunned, then grinned. "Scared already?"

Boos erupted from the crowd below.

Zhao Hao acted as if he hadn't heard them. He raised his eyes to look at Zhao Kun and suddenly said:

"Your mother is a laundress on West Street, right?"

Zhao Kun's smile froze.

"Your father died early, you started hanging out with dock gangs at ten, broke your first man's leg at thirteen, and stabbed someone three times over turf at fifteen, nearly getting thrown into the river."

Zhao Hao spoke slowly, every word clear. "Later, a distant uncle from a branch of the Zhao Family saw how vicious you were, fished you out, and shoved you into the clan school."

The crowd below fell into a deathly silence.

Zhao Kun's face flushed from red to green, the veins on the back of his hand gripping the halberd bulging.

"You..." he squeezed out a hoarse sound from his throat. "You're courting death!"

"Did I get something wrong?" Zhao Hao interrupted him.

"I'll kill you!!!"

Zhao Kun went completely mad.

He crossed his twin halberds and charged at Zhao Hao like a savage bear! The halberd wind whistled, every strike aimed at a vital point!

This was no longer a sparring match.

This was murder.

Zhao Hao still didn't launch a counter-offensive. His footwork shifted as he wove through the shadows of the halberds, his sword flashing out occasionally to intercept Zhao Kun at the most awkward points of his momentum.

"Look," Zhao Hao's voice rang out in the gaps between the clashing weapons. "No matter how you fight, it's still that same dock-brawling style. You're vicious enough, but unfortunately... it's not fit for a proper stage."

"Shut up! Shut up!!!"

Zhao Kun's eyes were bloodshot, his assault growing increasingly frantic. Zhao Hao ducked under a horizontal sweep of the right halberd, while the left halberd struck upward like a viper, aiming straight for Zhao Hao's lower abdomen!

This strike was too fast, too treacherous.

Zhao Hao finally stopped retreating.

He flicked his blade, choosing not to parry or block, letting the halberd tip graze his waist—his clothes tore, skin split, and blood surged out instantly.

At the same time, his sword struck out like a gray line, aiming for Zhao Kun's throat.

Zhao Kun turned his head in terror, the sword tip grazing his neck and drawing a trail of blood droplets.

The two crossed paths.

Blood poured from Zhao Hao's waist, and his face paled slightly. But his hand holding the sword remained rock steady, a single drop of blood slowly falling from the tip.

Zhao Kun touched his neck, his hand coming away covered in bright red. He stared at Zhao Hao, his chest heaving violently, his eyes burning with ignited killing intent.

"I'm going to... butcher you..."

He growled, lunging forward once more.

This time, there was no more probing between the two. The shadows of the halberds and the light of the sword became completely entangled, the sound of metal clashing as dense as a rainstorm. Sprays of blood erupted continuously.

The crowd below was silent as the grave.

Everyone held their breath.

Li Tui stood at the edge of the crowd, his chest feeling stifled.

The tumor was pulsing frantically.

It was no longer just consuming blood essence, but also the scorching baleful aura erupting from the two men fighting for their lives on the arena.

These nutrients were greedily swallowed by the tumor, transformed into a scalding, violent torrent that surged back into Li Tui's meridians.

Excruciating pain.

"Clang!!!"

A deafening explosion erupted on the stage.

Zhao Kun's left halberd flew from his hand, while his right was pinned down firmly by Zhao Hao's sword. The two men locked in a struggle, their faces twisted in ferocity.

Suddenly, Zhao Hao relaxed his strength and sidestepped.

Unable to check his momentum, Zhao Kun stumbled forward.

A sword tip pierced through his lower back.

Zhao Kun froze, looking down at the blood-stained blade protruding from his chest before slowly turning his head.

Zhao Hao withdrew his sword and stepped back.

Blood gushed out like a fountain.

Zhao Kun swayed, then collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud, bracing himself with both hands as he vomited mouthfuls of blood-flecked foam.

The black-robed deacon hesitated for a moment before shouting, "Zhao Hao wins!"

The crowd below fell silent for a heartbeat before erupting into a chaotic roar.

Zhao Hao didn't even glance at Zhao Kun on the ground, sheathing his sword. The wound at his waist was deep enough to reveal bone, and blood dripped down his pant leg, leaving a trail of crimson footprints with every step. Yet, his spine remained straight, and his face was devoid of any expression.

Taking advantage of the crowd's focus on the stage, Li Tui endured the churning agony in his meridians and retreated into the shadows of a pillar.

Now is the time.

He closed his eyes and deliberately relaxed his suppression.

Upon smelling the scent of blood, the violent aura of the tumor became nearly impossible to contain; it leaked out slightly, like a spark suddenly struck in the darkness.

It lasted only an instant.

Almost simultaneously, a cold, viscous gaze filled with greed swept over from the shadows of a distant pavilion.

The gaze felt tangible, pinning itself firmly onto Li Tui.

But it only lasted for a single breath.

Not far away, a patrol of guards happened to pass by, the sound of their armor clanking clearly audible.

The gaze recoiled sharply, retreating and vanishing like a startled viper.

Li Tui's back was already soaked in cold sweat.

He exhaled slowly, his fingers unconsciously pressing against his chest. Beneath his robes, the pulsing of the tumor was gradually calming down, but the dark red patterns on its surface had deepened in color, faintly shimmering with an evil, eerie light.

This thing... is truly insatiable.