"Why?" the Slaughter King asked.
"By becoming a guest elder, you can gain power, freedom, resources, and even leave this place to return to your original world. But the Hell Road... that is a path where death is almost certain."
Lin Wan raised his head and stared directly into the Slaughter King's deep eyes beneath his mask.
His gaze was clear and resolute.
"I need power," he said. "Power that truly belongs to me. And the Hell Road is the path I must take to obtain it."
His words plunged the Slaughter King into silence once more.
He needed power.
What a simple, direct reason.
Yet it was precisely that simplicity and directness that made the Slaughter King realize once again that this young man before him was different from every fallen one he had ever seen.
He had not come here to escape, nor had he fought here merely to survive.
He had willingly stepped into this hell to become stronger and gain power.
"Interesting," the Slaughter King said softly, a trace of amusement entering his voice. "Then as you wish."
He raised his right hand.
It was a pale, slender hand, its fingers adorned with several strangely shaped rings. Each ring emitted a faint glow of a different color.
As he raised his hand, the air throughout the Hell Slaughter Arena began to tremble.
It was no slight vibration, but a violent quake like an earthquake.
The ground cracked, the walls shook, and the seats in the stands groaned under the strain.
The fallen ones panicked. Some tried to flee, but their legs felt as if they had been filled with lead, unable to move.
Thick red mist poured from the Slaughter King's body.
The mist was as viscous as blood and carried a pungent stench. In an