The world had always contained good and bad, white and black. Indeed, however good it could be, it could be just as bad; however white it could be, it could be just as black.
So most of the time, the world was gray.
The Primordial World was no paradise. On the contrary, it was darker and more terrifying than hell.
Otherwise, why would a world suffer calamities of slaughter time and again? Why would it repeatedly come so close to destruction?
Li Su had always known this; he simply had not turned his gaze in that direction. Yet now, a blood-drenched corner of the Primordial World had suddenly lifted a corner of its curtain before him, pouring out darkness three shades blacker than even the thickest ink.
This Great Sacrificial Martial Arena undoubtedly belonged to the Witch Clan, once one of the protagonists of heaven and earth.
It was not merely an arena for duels, but also an altar. The offerings were the losers. Their flesh and blood—everything they possessed—would be sacrificed through their defeat and death, becoming nourishment for the victors.
Some people would probably say this was not all that dark, would they not?
After all, there was little entertainment in that era. True life-and-death combat could also raise one's cultivation. Especially with the Witch Clan surrounded by great enemies, a little iron and blood was hardly strange. And turning the defeated into grand sacrifices was no waste either; it made the strong even stronger, did it not? This was an ancient martial arena, after all.
One could only say that the greater environment was simply like that.
But what if the victors on this Great Sacrificial Martial Arena were always nobles, while the losers were always commoners?
And what if its victors were always favored geniuses, while