Feng Lingtian stood in front of the entrance to the Hell Slaughter Arena, about to step inside, when a burly figure cut in from the side and blocked his way.
The man was nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders and a thick back, a face full of fat, and wore a leather armor covered in dark brown stains.
He looked down at Feng Lingtian, his gaze lingering on the silver-white mask on his face for a moment, then sweeping over the iron tag hanging at his waist—number 7364, brand new, not yet worn out.
"A newbie?" The man grinned, revealing a half-missing tooth. "Newbies have to follow newbie rules. First, pay a cup of Yellow Springs Dew as protection money. You should have that, right?"
Feng Lingtian glanced at him, but didn't stop and continued walking forward.
The man's face darkened, and he reached out to stop him. "I'm talking to you, are you deaf?"
Before his hand could even touch Feng Lingtian, Feng Lingtian had already stepped aside to avoid the outstretched arm.
The man's hand missed its target, his body swayed, and he lost face. He cursed and reached for Feng Lingtian's neck with his right hand.
Before his palm arrived, Feng Lingtian had already taken half a step forward, his body brushing past the opponent's attack trajectory. At the same time, he snapped his hand back, pressing his palm against the outside of the man's wrist and pressing down.
The man's wrist was pulled off course, and his body lost its balance, tilting to one side. Before he could regain his footing, Feng Lingtian struck him on the side of the ribs with a light but powerful blow that was enough to make him lose his balance completely.
The man fell to the ground and before he could get up, Feng Lingtian had already torn a leather pouch from his waist, weighed it in his hand, and found it was full.
He tucked the skin into his robes, looked down at the man, and said, "Thank you for the 'Gift of the Yellow Springs Dew '."
The man lay on the ground, his face flushed red, as if he wanted to curse but couldn't utter a word.
Feng Lingtian didn't look any further and turned to walk towards the entrance of the Hell Slaughter Arena.
He handed the cup of Yellow Springs Dew to the guard at the gate. The guard took it, glanced at it, confirmed that the amount was sufficient, checked the number on the iron plate that Feng Lingtian had handed him, and then made a mark on the logbook.
"7364, one cup. Let's go in."
After Feng Lingtian entered the Hell Slaughter Arena, he quickly got his number and was about to go on stage. He stood in the center of the arena, forming a loose circle with the other nine contestants.
Feng Lingtian quickly scanned the group—nine opponents, most of them around Soul King level, but two were clearly veterans from the Slaughter City, standing firmly with their eyes locked on their prey.
The guard rang a bell at the edge of the arena, and the match began. The two men moved almost simultaneously, rushing towards their weakest opponent and unleashing deadly attacks.
Feng Lingtian didn't rush to act. He waited until the first person rushing towards him entered his attack range before stepping aside. A wind blade shot out from his fingertips, precisely slicing through the opponent's throat.
The man made no sound, stumbled forward two steps, and collapsed onto the sand. A cheer erupted from the stands.
Feng Lingtian didn't stop. He turned around and faced his second opponent, still using the same move of sidestepping, giving way, and wind blades, his movements clean and efficient.
When the second person fell, the noise from the stands grew even louder. The remaining people started to lose their rhythm.
Some retreated, while others lunged at Feng Lingtian, attempting to overwhelm him with numbers. Feng Lingtian moved swiftly through the crowd, his wind blades tracing almost invisible arcs in the dark red light.
His movements were devoid of superfluous force, ostentation, or deliberate delay. In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, he was the only one left standing in the arena.
The guard announced the result, and some people in the stands applauded, some cursed, and some jumped over the railing into the field to search the corpses for the Yellow Springs Dew".
Feng Lingtian ignored them, made sure his disguise hadn't been exposed, and then turned and walked towards the exit.
As he walked past the edge of the stands, his gaze swept over the shadows diagonally above—a man in black, dressed in a tight-fitting outfit, stood against the wall of the stands, a dark iron plaque hanging beside him, looking down at the field.
The most striking feature was the blue hair, which remained clearly visible even in the dark red light. Feng Lingtian's steps did not falter, but a figure surfaced in his mind.
Blue hair, young, handsome. These characteristics combined strongly suggest it's that person. But this is just speculation; more evidence is needed to confirm.
As I approached the exit, a voice came from behind me, unhurried and calm. "Your technique isn't like someone from here. First time here, huh?"
Feng Lingtian turned his head. Tang Yin had already followed him out and was standing a few steps away in the shadows, watching him.
"What's the matter?" Feng Lingtian asked.
Tang Yin took two steps closer. "My name is Tang Yin. I've fought over twenty battles in the Slaughter City, and I've seen quite a few people, but not many are like you. You're efficient and concise, which suits my taste perfectly. How about we cooperate?"
Feng Lingtian looked at Tang Yin, and upon hearing his self-identification, Feng Lingtian was already certain that the person in front of him was Tang San.
"How do we cooperate?" Feng Lingtian asked.
"It's simple. I'll avoid registering when you do, and you'll avoid registering when I do."
Let's avoid playing the same game twice, so that we won't be opponents until we reach 100 wins.
Feng Lingtian didn't immediately agree, "What makes you think I would cooperate with you?"
Tang Yin glanced at him. "Intuition."
"Intuition?"
"Yes, intuition." Tang Yin explained calmly, "I've been in the Slaughter City for so long, and I've seen too many people."
I can tell what kind of person you are at a glance. You didn't come here to kill people; you came for the Divine Slaughter's Domain. We're the same kind of people.
Feng Lingtian was silent for a moment, then said, "But I don't know you yet. If I don't even know your strength, there's no point in talking about cooperation."
"Let's have a fight, let me see your strength."
Tang Yin nodded. "Okay."
The two distanced themselves in the open space near the exit. Tang Yin didn't rush to attack. His right arm sank slightly, and a jet-black iron hammer appeared in his hand.
The hammer is heavy, with no extra patterns on its surface, only a textured feel of repeated polishing; it is the renowned Clear Sky Hammer.
The moment Feng Lingtian saw the Clear Sky Hammer, his eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't show any unusual expression, but his spirits were already high.
He knew that under the rules of the Slaughter City, Soul Skill were sealed and could not be used.
In this context, the Clear Sky Hammer's fighting style, which relies purely on physical strength and the Tool Martial Soul form, is the most worthwhile thing to learn.
There's a learning opportunity right in front of me—to observe how a descendant of Tang Hao, who was personally trained by him since childhood, wields the Clear Sky Hammer —something impossible to obtain elsewhere. Every bit of knowledge I can gain is valuable.
Feng Lingtian shifted his gaze from the hammer to Tang Yin's stance and gait.
Tang Yin was also observing. He first observed Feng Lingtian's position, then took a step forward. The Clear Sky Hammer in his hand turned at an angle, carrying a hidden force as it aimed straight for Feng Lingtian's chest.
As Feng Lingtian dodged to the side, he slashed at Tang Yin's wrist with his hand, but before he could touch him, Tang Yin had already withdrawn his arm, lowered his center of gravity, and swept his hammer from below towards Feng Lingtian's knee.
Feng Lingtian raised his knee to dodge and took half a step back. Tang Yin also stopped and did not pursue.
In just a few breaths of contact, Feng Lingtian confirmed two things: First, Tang San's basic skills with the Clear Sky Hammer were extremely solid—the muscle memory of this body still existed;
Secondly, he adapted very well to the Slaughter City, and acted decisively and without hesitation.
At the same time, he also learned a lot from this fight with Tang Yin: the way to generate power with the Clear Sky Hammer, the rhythm control of the heavy hammer in close combat, and how to mobilize the maximum power with the smallest movement.
"That's fine," Feng Lingtian said. "I agree to your suggestion."
Tang Yin retrieved the Clear Sky Hammer: "Then it's settled."
Feng Lingtian nodded. He didn't rush to register, but instead walked back to the edge of the stands, found a corner to sit down, and stood against the wall.
He remembered Tang Yin saying he had already played more than twenty matches—which meant Tang Yin would most likely continue playing in the near future. The matches in Slaughter City were public, and anyone could watch them.
Feng Lingtian didn't need to participate in the match to see how Tang Yin used the Clear Sky Hammer. If Tang Yin's fighting style was worth learning, he could figure out how to apply this hammer technique in actual combat by watching a few more matches.
Under the dim red light, the two stood at opposite ends of the stands, undisturbed by each other, and said nothing more.