You Don't Play Fair

Dantai Canglan did not answer. He merely lifted that cup of tea again, his gaze returning to Canghai Tower beyond the window.

He had guarded this city for sixty years, from a high-spirited young man to one whose temples had begun to frost with age.

He had never forgotten his ancestor's final wish, but he had never believed that someone would truly climb to the hundredth floor one day.

He had guarded this city for far too long.

He had seen too many Soul Masters come to challenge the Tower.

Some marched straight for the Cliff-Climbing Path the moment they entered, not even bothering to glance at what Lower Cliff looked like.

Some swaggered through the marketplace, wishing the entire city knew they were geniuses here to challenge the Tower.

Others spent one night in Lower Cliff and began complaining about the crude conditions, saying they were nowhere near as good as the inns in Heaven Dou City.

None of those people had reached the top, nor could they have.

If they could not even understand Lower Cliff, what gave them the right to reach the top?

But these two were different.

"Because they are looking at this city with their hearts," Dantai Canglan finally said softly. "After waiting a hundred years, I cannot settle for fools. But if they truly have the qualifications, I will not stop them."

Meanwhile, in the Capital of Slaughter.

The Capital of Slaughter always resembled hell.

Within this strange city, there was almost no distinction between day and night.

After all, this place itself seemed to be a domain.

The moment Tang San stepped through the city gates, his long robe was already mottled with blood—not his own, but that of the people he had killed.

In any case, killing was not prohibited here.