Slaughter City, the Blood Hall.
The dim hall was perpetually steeped in the lingering stench of blood, its crimson candle flames flickering.
The King of Slaughter reclined on a throne built of white bones, dressed in black robes. His gaunt face bore an eerily ruddy glow. In his hand, he held a crystal goblet filled with a murky, dark red liquid—yellow springs dew. He took a leisurely sip and looked up with interest at the Heavenly Screen suspended in the air.
A woman stood silently beside him, wearing a dark Gothic dress. Black curls fell over her shoulders, her complexion was deathly pale, and her eyes were cold. An aura of chilling, deathly stillness surrounded her as she watched the Heavenly Screen with him without a word.
When the image on the Heavenly Screen changed to show Qian Daoliu holding Bo Saixi in the Divine Realm, the smile on the King of Slaughter's face abruptly froze. He gave the woman beside him a casual wave.
"Leave."
The Gothic Woman bowed slightly, then silently turned and left the hall. The heavy stone doors slowly closed behind her.
The King of Slaughter was left alone in the hall.
He sank his awareness into his Sea of Spirit. The entire expanse resembled a blood-red cage, and a man lay sleeping quietly within it—Tang Chen.
The King of Slaughter murmured to himself, his voice edged with cold mockery. "That woman on the Heavenly Screen is the one you've been pining for, isn't she? Who would have thought that merely seeing her image would stir the first signs of revival in your consciousness after all these years of dormancy?"
A vicious glint flashed in his eyes, and his tone turned icy. "Unfortunately, I'll never give you a chance to wake up."
As his words fell,