The King of Slaughter's expression changed abruptly. "You intend to pass through the Path of Hell together? Have you forgotten where you came from?"
Ripples of pale red light radiated outward from the King of Slaughter's body. Had it not been for the reservations weighing on his mind, he would have crushed the two people before him with a casual flick of his wrist. With Tang San and Hu Liena's current strength, they were nothing more than ants in his presence. But he could not do that. Because he was afraid — afraid that the City of Slaughter would be destroyed as a consequence. This dark world had its own powers backing it, but if those behind Tang San and Hu Liena were provoked, the entire city would very likely collapse along with them.
"Very well, then. Walk your Path of Hell. Having company on that road is hardly a bad thing. If you can survive the trial and become the new generation of Gods of Slaughter, I ask only that you pass along my regards to your elders."
The King of Slaughter's tone had grown noticeably colder, laced with no small measure of sarcasm. The Path of Hell — did they truly think it was so easy to traverse? Even with two of them, it would be no simple matter.
A thick crimson mist erupted from the King of Slaughter's body, the overwhelming aura forcing Tang San and Hu Liena to retreat rapidly. They were driven back dozens of meters before they could barely withstand the pressure.
What the King of Slaughter released was not killing intent, but an aura of extreme evil — a cold so deep it could freeze one to the marrow.
Evil, freezing red ripples spread outward at a sluggish pace, yet in the span of a few blinks they had blanketed the entire arena.
The Fallen seated in the spectator stands were electric with excitement, all of them eager to witness the opening of the Path of Hell. What they did not know was that their lives had already reached their end.
Aside from the Gods of Slaughter and the King of Slaughter himself, no one had ever witnessed the Path of Hell's opening and lived — because every person who had seen it was already dead. Or rather, they had become the sacrifices required to open it.
Tang San and Hu Liena quickly realized that while the red light radiating from the King of Slaughter placed enormous pressure on them, it was not aimed at them. It was directed outward, toward the surrounding stands.
The Fallen, who had been screaming themselves hoarse in delirious cheers, gradually fell silent as the red light descended upon the observation platforms. Each of their gazes grew dull, then the dullness shifted into bloodshot crimson. Before long, when the red light had formed a massive barrier encompassing the entire Hell Killing Arena, agonized screams began tearing from the throats of those who had been touched first.
Under the red light's influence, the Fallen went mad, clawing at their own faces, their own bodies with desperate fury...
Most of the Fallen who had survived in the Inner City possessed a certain degree of strength, and now they turned that strength entirely upon themselves. Even the screams that wailed from their lips seemed tinged with a twisted, ecstatic pleasure, as though in this act of self-mutilation they had found some infinite enjoyment.
Skin peeled back in curls. Blood sprayed in every direction. They tore their own organs from their bodies. This frenzy would not stop until life itself had been snuffed out.
More and more Fallen succumbed to this transformation, until the madness had spread to every corner of the arena.
Though Tang San and Hu Liena had experienced countless killings within the City of Slaughter, facing this large-scale scene of horror before them, both their faces had gone involuntarily pale. The killing intent churning within their bodies grew ever harder to suppress.
They exchanged a glance. In Tang San's eyes, Hu Liena clearly caught the flash of fierce, vicious fury. Anyone with even a shred of humanity, upon witnessing this scene, would be filled with nothing but loathing for the City of Slaughter.
Blood spilled across the ground and began to coalesce. Vast quantities of it flowed like dozens of small streams through inconspicuous channels running beneath the spectator stands, converging toward the central field of the arena. Countless sinuous rivulets of red crawled inward like small serpents.
Tang San's fists clenched involuntarily. Thick killing intent surged continuously within him, threatening to erupt at any moment.
"To serve as the sacrifice for the Path of Hell's opening — that is their honor." The King of Slaughter's deep, resonant voice cut through the silence. By now, the screams had gradually died away. Apart from Tang San, Hu Liena, and the King of Slaughter, there did not appear to be a single living soul left in the arena.