A brief, dense silence enveloped the threshold of the 'Poison Cup' bar. It was a silence filled with the promise of violence, hoarse laughter, and the corrupt hope of countless Spiritual Stones.

  Zhi Xuan merely offered a cold smile. It was not a smile of joy, but the sharp sneer of a merchant satisfied with his price, the smile of a youth about to grasp wealth through blood.

  "Then, let us begin the show, Sir Jue Mu," Zhi Xuan said.

  Jue Mu laughed, a laugh that sounded like crushing bone fragments. "Follow me, Black-Haired Devil. Don't get lost in this labyrinth, or you'll end up as food for spiritual worms."

  Chu Feng, in his tattered gray robe, led the way. He flicked his finger against the stone wall behind Jue Mu. A hidden rune pulsed, and that section of the wall shifted, revealing a narrow passage winding downwards.

  The passage was pitch black, the air inside cold and damp, carrying the scent of copper, drying blood, and polluted Spiritual Essence.

  Zhi Xuan stepped inside without hesitation. He allowed Chu Feng to be in front of him and Jue Mu behind. In the darkness, his sharp eyes radiated a faint sapphire gleam, scanning every shadow. His spiritual blood rotated, purifying the foul air he breathed.

  ‘Be careful, Monkey. In a place like this, even dust can be a trap,’ Ruo Xianxue echoed, her tone now genuinely serious. The Sacred Devil sensed the atmosphere of untold madness and cruelty, a perfect environment to awaken the devil seed.

  They descended an endless stone staircase. After walking for the time it took to burn a stick of incense, the passage widened, and they arrived in a vast underground cave.

  The cave was illuminated by torches that emitted a pitch-black flame, not ordinary fire, but fire woven from distilled spiritual blood essence. The sight was a literal image of a cultivation abyss.

  The Devil's Bite Chain Arena was a large stone circle about six zhang high, adorned with thick, rusty iron chains. The chains loomed up to the cave ceiling and looked like the roots of a devil tree.

  The arena floor itself was filled with black sand, and even from a distance, Zhi Xuan could see lingering dark red spots—blood that could not be washed away by water or essence.

  Around the arena, tiered stone stands were packed full. Hundreds of cultivators sat there, their eyes filled with greed, boredom, and thirst for blood. They were the spectators, merchants, and bookmakers who controlled the underground betting market.

  The majority of cultivators were in the Blood Transformation to Organ Transformation realms. There were also a few deeper auras, reaching the Consciousness Transformation realm, sitting in the front rows, enjoying the scent of cruelty.

  When Zhi Xuan appeared, a low roar and a sound of vicious cheering immediately greeted him. Not a sound of welcome, but a sound of calculation.

  "That's him! The young man betting with Blood Crystals!" a plump bookmaker shouted in a high-pitched voice, pointing at Zhi Xuan.

  "Look! That's the Black-Haired Devil, I've brought a supply of a thousand low-grade spiritual stones for tonight!"

  "I've heard of his title! He came from the southern end here bearing that title!"

  "Yes! I also heard he won a mortal duel, defeating fifty people and earning the title of Black-Haired Devil!"

  "Quickly get him up to the arena! I can't wait to see Blood Crystals scattered in the arena."

  Zhi Xuan paused for a moment upon hearing that, his heart felt strange and the corner of his lips pulled up involuntarily. Something warm crept into his chest—pride? Excitement? He did not even know which. But it was sweet. Too sweet, with those bloodthirsty cheers and screams.

  That rare and unfamiliar feeling of pride was a sweet poison, seeping into his newly born spiritual blood. Amidst the vicious commotion, he felt a validation for the title he had hated in the past. Now, the Black-Haired Devil was currency, and the hunger of the spectators was his capital.

  Zhi Xuan ignored the cheers and shouts. He walked along the side of the cave, between narrow passages bordered by thick iron bars. Behind the bars, he saw several cultivators who looked thin and desperate—they were arena slaves, or those waiting for their turn to be pitted against each other. They exuded an aura of madness and despair, awaiting death or a miracle.

  Chu Feng and Jue Mu, who were now busy capitalizing on the crowd and spreading out, gave Zhi Xuan the opportunity to step forward, allowing himself to be fully exposed to the black fire of the torches and the gaze of greedy eyes.

  His sapphire blue eyes sparkled and his smile widened; he was pleased with the cheers and validation. For some reason, he could not help but feel that this was the true face of the world, without betrayal, without intrigue, and without discrimination. Here, everything was just winning and losing, life and death.

  Zhi Xuan kicked a black pebble on the floor; the pebble rolled slowly onto the arena sand. He felt the weight of his red silk robe, which felt so out of place in such a filthy setting. He was jade placed in a garbage heap, and that was what made the spectators even more excited.

  ‘You like it, Monkey. I can feel it. The breath of the Devil is creeping out of your spiritual blood,’ Ruo Xianxue echoed, her voice now calm, without a sneer, only pure observation. ‘This is the path. Blood and cruelty. The awakening of the Devil Seed.’

  Zhi Xuan did not reply. The sense of validation he felt was the most honest response from a heart that had long suffered betrayal. In this Arena, no one cared about the past; they only cared about the blood he would shed. Zhi Xuan even seemed to forget about restraining the devil seed from surging.

  Zhi Xuan walked forward, ascending the rough stone steps that led to the center of the arena circle. His every step felt stark against the backdrop of the spectators' hoarse roars. His gait was calm, but the Black Jade Essence beneath his skin pulsed with a newfound energy—an energy stemming from the anticipation of bloodshed.

  When he reached the black sand of the arena, he stood tall beneath the shadow of the towering iron chains. He raised his head. His cold gaze swept over the thousands of eyes staring at him, eyes filled with hope. He saw cruelty, but he also saw wealth.

  'I have a name, I am known' Zhi Xuan muttered in his mind, his voice filled with the awareness of a swelling sense of pleasure. 'They are waiting for me, this feeling is like... Family.'

  A feeling so alien yet so intoxicating. Zhi Xuan, who was always alone, who had tasted the bitterness of betrayal and the emptiness of heart, now felt the warmth of these bloodthirsty cheers. It was brutal validation, yet real.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Here, in the midst of madness, he did not need to pretend. He did not need to hide his dark side. His cold blood, his hidden cruelty, were all cheered.

  Suddenly, a gong violently boomed, its sound echoing throughout the cave, drowning out all the cheers. The black fire of the torches flickered, creating dancing shadows on the stone walls.

  A tall, muscular man, wearing a sleeveless black robe that revealed a red dragon tattoo on his arm, stepped forward onto a stone podium on the side of the arena. He was the Arena Guide, an Organ Transformation cultivator with a suppressing aura.

  "Welcome, gentlemen and ladies, connoisseurs of bloodshed!" the Arena Guide roared, his voice hoarse yet powerful, able to penetrate every corner of the cave.

  "Tonight, we will witness a long-awaited show! The promised blood offering, a spectacle that will leave you thirsty!"

  He raised his hand, and all the black fire torches flared up, illuminating the arena more intensely. His focus was now completely on Zhi Xuan, who stood alone in the center of the black sand circle.

  "In the red corner, we have a newcomer who has made waves throughout the Lower District!" the Arena Guide roared, with a dramatic pause that made the spectators even more agitated. "He comes from the south, bearing a feared title: The Black-Haired Devil!"

  Cheers erupted again, much louder than before. The name 'Black-Haired Devil' now echoed throughout the arena. Zhi Xuan felt his essence pulse in rhythm with the cheers.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the power of the cheers to seep into him, carving a promise of blood into his heart.

  "And he does not just come with a name! He comes with a promise!" the Arena Guide continued, his voice rising. "He promises to yield Blood Crystals from every one of his opponents! A promise whose truth we shall witness tonight!"

  Screams and roars rose to a new level. Spectators shoved each other, spilling their slimy drinks. Gold coins and spiritual stones scattered among the bookmakers. Zhi Xuan knew he had successfully created the spectacle they wanted.

  "Quick! I'm betting two hundred low-grade spiritual stones to see him crushed!"

  "I'm betting a hundred low-grade spiritual stones and five hundred gold coins to see him with Blood Crystals in his hand!"

  "This is so tempting, I wonder how that boy will die in the arena or emerge as a legend!"

  The Arena Guide, with the red dragon tattoo writhing on his arm, raised his hand high. The gong boomed once more, ending the betting chaos and focusing hundreds of eyes on the arena.

  "Silence! The rules in the Devil's Bite Chain Arena are simple, gentlemen!" the Arena Guide roared. "There are only two conditions to end the fight. Death or Surrender to be killed! However, for the Black-Haired Devil, he has a special promise; every opponent will end with a Blood Crystal harvest!"

  The Arena Guide gave a brief, suffocating pause, allowing the terrifying promise to sink in. He pointed at Zhi Xuan with a smile filled with madness.

  "This promise means every opponent must pay with their life and essence! Since this is his debut, we will give him a balanced opponent—a bloodthirsty veteran!"

  Suddenly, the iron bars on the side of the arena shifted with a loud clanking sound, revealing a dark passage. From the passage, stepped out a tall, muscular man, his skin covered in scars and his left eye covered by thick stitching.

  The man wore shabby leather armor and held two gigantic axes that looked rusty but emitted a thick metallic Essence. His aura was at the peak of the Blood Transformation realm, just a step away from the Organ Transformation realm—a Cultivator forged by countless life-and-death battles.

  "In the black corner," the Arena Guide roared, "we have the Blood Reaver! A cultivator who has won ten fights in this arena! He will teach the Black-Haired Devil that Blood Crystals are not given, but taken!"

  The spectators erupted in cheers again. The Blood Reaver smirked, showing his toothless, vicious grin. He walked towards the center of the arena, his huge axes scraping on the black sand, creating a deadly dragging sound.

  Zhi Xuan, who had been standing in the corner since the beginning, now focused all his Spiritual Blood. His opponent was a veteran, someone who knew how to kill in the arena. However, he was not intimidated. His body had not fully recovered, but his ability to manifest the Single Blood Blade was his greatest asset.

  The Blood Reaver stopped about ten zhang from Zhi Xuan. His single eye was filled with greed, not just for the promised Blood Crystals, but for the Spiritual Stones he would win.

  "Red silk robe," the Blood Reaver sneered, his voice hoarse like grinding stones. "You must be a lost Young Master. Here, silk will be torn, and your jade will be crushed. Give me your Blood Crystals without a fight, and I will grant you a swift death!"

  Zhi Xuan slowly raised his hand. He ignored the mockery. Words were just wind; Spiritual Essence was the Law of the Universe. He did not draw a weapon; he let his Black Jade Essence pulse.

  "I came to collect. And I want to collect everything tonight," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice calm, cold, and completely flat.

  Suddenly, the Arena Guide raised his left hand to the cave ceiling.

  "BEGIN!"

  The gong boomed with a deadly roar, releasing a deafening energy. It was the signal for bloodshed.

  The Blood Reaver acted immediately. He was a veteran who knew that the first attack was the most crucial.

  With a fierce roar, he stomped his foot onto the arena sand. His huge axes spun above his head, summoning a rusty metallic Essence.

  "Raging Blood Slash!"

  The Blood Reaver leaped forward with astonishing speed for his realm, his axes slashing down, emitting a thick, blood-red essence blade, intending to split Zhi Xuan in two. It was a straightforward, brutal, and fatal frontal attack.

  Zhi Xuan's movement was almost perfect; he waved his hand calmly. Leaping back for a moment, then the beads in his hair slowly whistled, making his hair flutter like a deity.

  "Divine Cauldron!"

  The gold-jade beads in Zhi Xuan's hair instantly radiated a faint light, and the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron appeared.

  However, Zhi Xuan did not manifest it in its terrifying original size, but as a small, rapidly spinning spiritual shield—the size of a hand shield—between himself and the incoming axe blade.

  WHANG!

  The Blood Reaver's blood essence blade struck the Divine Cauldron shield with the deadly force of peak Blood Transformation. The sound of metal colliding with essence echoed throughout the arena. The Cauldron shield shook violently, and Zhi Xuan was pushed back three steps in the black sand.

  His unrecovered spiritual blood surged, and he felt a little warm blood creeping up his throat. Although the Divine Cauldron was an ancient artifact that was an extension of his soul, he could only manifest it as a small shield due to his injured body condition.

  "Artifact!" the Blood Reaver roared, his single eye now filled with madness. "You rely on treasures, Young Master! I will tear you apart and take that cauldron!"

  The Blood Reaver, driven by greed, did not give Zhi Xuan time to breathe. He spun in place, recalling both axes, and attacked again with a rapid series of horizontal and vertical slashes, scattering the black sand.

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes. He knew he could not rely on the Divine Cauldron for pure defense. He needed to attack.

  "Blood Wind Vortex!"

  The Divine Cauldron was pulled back into his hair. In an instant, Zhi Xuan's Black Jade Essence fused with his Spiritual Blood. A dense red mist immediately formed around both his hands, and ten pure blood sword blades were manifested, hovering quickly between himself and the incoming axe rain.

  WHIRRLLL!

  The ten sword blades spun rapidly, forming a perfect circular formation—a vortex that was not only defense, but also a ready-to-shred counterattack. The formation moved so fast that it looked like a solid disc made of blood essence.

  The Blood Reaver's axe blades struck the vortex. The previously brutal attack was now sliced apart. Zhi Xuan's blood sword blades cut and deflected the axe essence blades, sending a reverse wave of energy back to the Blood Reaver.

  The Blood Reaver was shocked. He was a veteran, and he knew that ordinary Blood Transformation sword formation techniques would not be this dense. Zhi Xuan's vortex was not just dense; it was pure and cold, with a higher aura.

  "Pure black jade essence!" shouted one of the Organ Transformation cultivators in the stands, his face growing even more excited. "That kid's spiritual blood! It's uncontaminated!"

  "Die!" the Blood Reaver roared, ignoring the pain in his arms. He forced both his axes through the vortex, intending to destroy the source of the formation, which was Zhi Xuan's arms.

  Zhi Xuan retreated one more step, he felt the Axe Blade almost touching his skin. This was the moment. He tilted his Blood Wind Vortex, changing it from defense mode to a Counter Slash.

  Two blood sword blades from the vortex shot out with lightning speed, not attacking the Blood Reaver's head, but aiming for the Blood Reaver's shoulder joints.

  SHIIING! SHIIING!

  Fresh blood spurted onto the black sand. Two clear slash marks appeared on the Blood Reaver's shoulders. The pain caused the veteran to let out a more brutal roar. His axes slipped from his grasp and fell onto the sand, leaving a loud clanging sound.

  The Blood Reaver jumped back, his hands clutching his bloody shoulders. His single eye radiated hatred and astonishment. "You—you wounded the Blood Reaver!"

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. He merely allowed the ten blood sword blades to continue spinning in front of him, now looking denser, as if they were feeding on the spiritual blood that had just been spilled.