Love Burning Amidst the Ashes. - Chapter 16 - The First Battle of the Blood Arena

Lower Passage, Thick Fog Clung Like a Shroud to the Thunder Prison Sect’s Blood Arena, the Air Thick with the Stench of Rust and Rotting Flesh. As Xu Qing Feng stepped into this circular stone prison, the bronze muscles beneath his brown robe suddenly tensed—upon the ten-meter-high black rock stage, layers of old and new blood scabs were splashed about, the topmost dark red patch still steaming with a foul odor. The roaring waves from the audience crashed against the rock walls, shattering into a buzzing echo, like thousands of venomous wasps lurking deep in his ear canal.

“A newly arrived battle slave?” The steward poked his charred right arm with an iron rod, the carbonized skin flaking off. “A mere Qi Refinement level 3 dares to come to the arena?”

Xu Qing Feng silently stared at the stage. The scorching pain from yesterday’s lightning strike still flowed through his meridians, but it was nothing compared to the surging ferocity in his chest. The image of his parents stained with blood flashed through his mind, his elder brother Qing Xuan’s pale face as he was pushed into the cellar overlapped with the blood before his eyes, forming a piercing red.

“Your opponent is ‘The Butcher’,” the steward sneered. “He’s torn apart no fewer than ten Qi Refinement level 5 cultivators.”

The iron gate of the arena rose with a loud creak. From the shadows stepped a giant, a full three meters tall, carrying a half-meter-wide serrated heavy blade on his left shoulder. Embedded in the knotted muscles of his right shoulder were three bone spikes—the mark of ten consecutive victories. When the Butcher grinned, revealing his gold-inlaid canine teeth, Xu Qing Feng could smell the scent of dried viscera seeping from between them.

“The little brat’s got guts.” The Butcher dragged his heavy blade across the ground, sparks scorching black marks onto the blood scabs. “Soon enough, your guts will be…”

Before his words finished, lightning exploded.

The force of Xu Qing Feng’s pushing-off right foot ground spiderweb cracks into the dark iron stone surface. His form shot forward like a thrown spear. It wasn’t a technique; there were no hand seals. It was pure, physical speed that made the Butcher’s pupils suddenly constrict. The heavy blade was hastily raised to block horizontally, the serrated teeth biting into the fist the youth had hurled at him.

Crackle!

Silvery-white electric serpents burst from his knuckles. The Butcher’s vambrace instantly carbonized, molten metal dripping onto his boot and scorching it with green smoke. Shouts of surprise erupted from the audience. On the third-tier viewing platform, a Golden Core elder leaned forward slightly, his fingers unconsciously stropping the lightning patterns on his armrest.

“Lightning Spirit Root?” The Butcher retreated three steps in shock, slamming his heavy blade into the ground to steady himself. His right arm, struck by lightning, was as charred as dead wood, yet he burst into manic laughter: “This old man loves eating crispy fried meat the most!”

The serrated heavy blade spun, creating a gale of foul wind. The spiritual power imbued in the blade’s momentum formed a vortex, pulling scattered cultivators in the audience forward as they stumbled. Xu Qing Feng didn’t retreat; he advanced. Lightning coursed through his meridians like burning magma. He could clearly hear his own bones groaning under the immense pressure.

“ROOOAR!” A beast-like roar rolled from the youth’s throat. Instead of dodging, he met the blade head-on with his lightning-wreathed left fist!

CLANG!!!

The sound of metal clashing tore through the air. Three serrated teeth flew off the heavy blade. A bloody gash, deep enough to show bone, split open on Xu Qing Feng’s knuckles. The lightning surged up the blade’s body and into the Butcher’s arm, the stench of scorching mixing with the smell of cooking meat. The Butcher roared in pain and let go of his weapon. Xu Qing Feng’s bloodied fist was already hurtling toward his Adam’s apple.

At the critical moment of life and death, the bone necklace around the Butcher’s neck suddenly exploded with a green light. As a poisonous mist spewed forth, a ghastly green hue spread before Xu Qing Feng’s eyes.

“Corpse Rot Poison!” a rogue cultivator screamed, scrambling backward. “Touch it, and your flesh melts!”

The moment the poison mist licked his cheeks, the Lightning Spirit Root dormant deep within his meridians went completely berserk. Silvery-white lightning erupted from his seven orifices, each strand of hair standing on end like dancing electric serpents. The audience’s shouts were crushed by the thunderous roar, blue-violet lightning sparks crackling and exploding across the entire dome of the Blood Arena.

“BREAK… FOR ME!” The youth’s bloodied fist tore through the poison mist.

Not aimed at the throat, but plunging straight into the chest cavity!

SCHLUK—

The lightning-wreathed hand punched through the heart-protecting mirror, seizing the Butcher’s still-pulsing heart. Rampaging electric current surged through his blood vessels, burning throughout his body. The giant’s bulging muscles melted like candle wax, his gold-inlaid canine teeth liquefied in the high heat, dripping down as molten gold droplets. When Xu Qing Feng withdrew his arm, only half a carbonized heart remained in the Butcher’s charred chest cavity.

Deathly silence enveloped the Blood Arena. The rogue cultivators stood with mouths agape, their exhaled breath vaporizing into mist in the lingering aftermath of the thunderstorm.

Xu Qing Feng stumbled half a step, coughing up blood froth laced with lightning fire. The black markings beneath the scar on his right arm writhed like living things, greedily absorbing the dissipating spiritual energy. A deeper, searing pain exploded from his dantian—not purely scorching heat, but a yin-cold sensation like ice needles piercing through. He looked down at his trembling right hand; between his fingers still clung carbonized fragments of heart muscle.

“This burning pain… carries a yin cold?” the youth murmured to himself, the demonic markings beneath his charred skin faintly visible.

BOOM!

The audience erupted into screams. Gold coins and spirit stones rained down onto the arena stage like hail, splashing eerie red light in the pools of blood. Xu Qing Feng, however, could not hear this; in his ears, there was only the wailing of his own meridians on the verge of collapse. The magma-like backlash from his Lightning Spirit Root was burning through the walls of his dantian, while that yin-coldness followed his blood vessels, creeping towards his heart meridian.

“Possessing a Lightning Spirit Root yet lacking a cultivation method to guide it, relying on instinct to fight—how is this different from a beast?” The elder’s voice was not loud, yet it was audible to the entire arena. “His meridians are already seventy percent damaged. This child’s foundation… is ruined.” The Golden Core elder on the third-tier viewing platform slowly rose.

“Drag him down,” the elder waved his hand dismissively. “Record one victory. Reward him with half a Blood Boil Pill to keep him alive.”

The blood-streaked pill hovered above Xu Qing Feng’s head. The black energy writhing within its patterns subtly resonated with the demonic seed in the youth’s right arm. With a flick of his finger, the pill shot straight into Xu Qing Feng’s mouth.

The iron gate clanged open. Two scar-faced battle slaves approached, dragging iron chains. The moment the locks clasped around his ankles, Qing Feng’s fading consciousness heard a erupt from the stands:

“Place your bets! Wager on how many breaths he’ll last in the next match!”

Deep beneath the Thunder Prison Sect, the Blood Arena returned to its clamor. A new battle slave was dragged by chains onto the stage. The last thing Qing Feng saw before losing consciousness was the cold eyes of the black-robed elder at the highest point of the stands—a gaze that looked like someone appraising a piece of scrap metal about to be discarded in a furnace. The sound of dragging chains faded into the distance, bloodied footprints trailing like a serpent through the passage leading to the slave camp. And in the darkness, a scarred figure leaning in the shadow of a cell door silently chewed on a blade of grass.