The corners of Tang Hao's mouth curled upward. "Good, good! Even heaven can't stand what Spirit Hall has done anymore. Today is the day Qian Renxue dies!"
He strode out of the room, with Yang Wushuang jogging behind him, muttering, "Brother Hao, we're going just like that? Aren't you going to prepare..."
"Prepare my ass!" Tang Hao didn't look back. "Even Qian Xunji couldn't withstand a blow from my hammer. Qian Renxue is alone. Even if the Angel God comes today, she won't stop me! You have my word!"
Watching him walk away, Yang Wushuang took out a folded slip of paper and casually slipped it to a passing guard without drawing attention.
The guard nodded and vanished silently into the crowd.
By the time Tang Hao reached the Hell Slaughter Arena, Qian Renxue had been waiting for a long while.
She wore a fitted white combat outfit, her golden hair tied in a high ponytail. The Power of Faith, growing denser by the day, formed a faint golden mist around her. From a distance, she looked noble and holy, somewhat out of place amid Slaughter City's atmosphere.
"Evil God, please let me handle this battle myself!"
"o98k."
Tang Hao entered through the opposite entrance. With a thought, he dragged the Clear Sky Hammer along the ground, its weight pressing cracks into the stone slabs wherever it passed.
His soul rings rose beneath his feet as well.
Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, red.
That final red soul ring was a deep crimson. Left to him by Ah Yin's sacrifice, the hundred-thousand-year Blue Silver Emperor soul ring had become the greatest pain of his life, but also his greatest strength.
The two faced each other from thirty zhang apart.
Tang Hao laughed, still with that pie-chart laugh: