Evan Chu slashed out with savage force. The Frostbane Divine Sword fit his hand like destiny itself—but now, forced to wield a lesser blade, every swing felt clumsy, every parry a humiliation. It was as if the world itself was mocking him, reminding him just how far he'd fallen. But Evan clenched his jaw, refusing to show weakness. Even if he was forced to fight with scraps, he would never bow his head—not in this hellhole, not while anyone was watching.
He didn’t regret storming into the City Lord’s Mansion. That old man—barely an acquaintance—had shown him a shred of kindness, and in this cutthroat world, that was rarer than gold. Evan was painfully aware of how alone he was; it was precisely that loneliness that made the old man's gesture burn so deeply. For the first time, someone had treated him like a person, not a tool or a threat. That debt weighed on him like a mountain, and now he was gambling everything to pay it back.
Screams of agony rang out across the martial testing ground, echoing like a warning. Evan and the middle-aged man went blow for blow, neither gaining ground, but it was all a show—Evan was deliberately holding back, hiding his true power, playing the weakling to survive another round. The stakes here were life and death, and he couldn’t afford a single mistake.
It didn’t take long for two people to die, their bodies still twitching on the martial field. Another man was drenched in blood, his wounds so severe that without immediate help he’d be crippled for life—if he survived at all. But in this ruthless place, nobody even glanced his way. Here, weakness meant being trampled without mercy.
The white-bearded old Hall Master’s gaze locked onto Evan, eyes gleaming with a predator’s interest. He saw that every strike Evan made seemed half-hearted, his posture tense yet movements almost lazy—dodging with uncanny precision, absorbing barely a scratch. The old man’s suspicions deepened, sensing something hidden and dangerous behind Evan’s facade.
Even as he fought, Evan could feel the Hall Master’s gaze boring into him like a knife. He knew he’d been marked, so he stopped holding back—his next strike landed with ruthless precision, crippling his opponent in mere breaths. Calculations raced through his mind: reveal too much and risk everything, but hold back and he’d be easy prey.
“Now this is interesting… So young, yet already knows how to play the pig to eat the tiger, hiding his claws until the right moment.” The Hall Master’s lips curled into a cold smile. “A talent worth molding—if he can survive. Early-stage Heavenly God with mid-stage attack power? That’s a monster in the making. But let’s see if he can endure the real test.”
Evan caught every word the old man muttered, his nerves stretched taut. He didn’t kill his opponent—just crippled him and stopped, cold and calculating. Around him, the first round’s carnage reached its peak: three corpses sprawled across the ground, two more were left groaning and broken, and one victor stood drenched in blood, barely clinging to life. Victory here was bought with pain and terror.
The other survivors looked almost smug. Two mid-stage Heavenly Gods—clearly the top dogs—stood with easy arrogance, their faces relaxed and full of contempt. To them, everyone else was fodder.
The Hall Master barked, “Decent performance. Drag the wounded to the mines—let them rot there until they’re fit to work. That’s the fate of losers here. You’d better fight like your life depends on it next round, because the mines are hell. Remember that, if you want to keep breathing.”
Evan didn’t know what kind of mines the Hall Master meant, but he’d suffered through mining in the Immortal Realm before—backbreaking, soul-crushing labor that sucked the life out of you. Here, it could be God Stones, could be Violet Cloud Stones… either way, it spelled misery.
"Now there are five left—no need for picking targets. This time it’s a chaotic free-for-all. Only the last man standing gets to walk out of the City Lord’s Mansion, or maybe earn a post as an officer. At the very least, you’ll be a squad leader, living in luxury while the rest rot. There’s only one way out: survive!"
"Opportunity or doom—it’s all up to you. Now, let the bloodbath begin! I want a show worth remembering! Hahahaha!" The Hall Master’s laughter rang out, cold and merciless.
Chaos exploded as the melee began. Evan stuck mostly to defense; if he wanted, he could end it all with a flick of his wrist. But the Hall Master’s terrifying strength loomed over him—Evan had sensed a monstrous pressure, the kind only a true apex predator could emit. Every move had to be calculated, every risk weighed.
That aura—God-King Realm, without a doubt. Evan’s instincts screamed at him: with his current early-stage Heavenly God cultivation, picking a fight with a God-King was suicide. No matter how monstrous his talent or heaven-defying his arts, he’d be crushed like an ant.
Evan hesitated, torn by uncertainty. The old man’s fate was a mystery—was he being tortured in the mansion’s dungeons, or already condemned to the mines? Frustration gnawed at him, but he steeled himself: if there was any chance to save the old man, he’d have to gamble everything and check the mines himself.
The two mid-stage Heavenly Gods went berserk, attacking Evan and the others with wild, explosive ferocity. Evan dodged relentlessly—he couldn’t afford even a single cut. If his golden blood spilled, the God-King Hall Master would instantly lock onto him, and the consequences could be fatal.
But the Hall Master watched everything with a gleam in his eye. "What a fascinating little beast… fighting this long without a scratch. I underestimated him. Is he really just early-stage, or is he hiding something monstrous beneath the surface?" The old man’s predatory amusement sharpened as he sized Evan up.
After another brutal exchange, two more collapsed—one of them the poor soul who’d already been wounded in the first round. Now only Evan and the two mid-stage Heavenly Gods remained. The odds had shifted, and the danger was higher than ever.
The two mid-stage Heavenly Gods exchanged cold glances, smirking with cruel intent. They knew anyone still standing was no pushover, and their own strengths were evenly matched. If either teamed up with Evan, the other would be doomed—so they silently agreed: Evan had to be crushed first, then they’d settle the score between themselves.
Evan saw through their plot instantly. There was no more room to hide—he couldn’t use Ninefold Divine-Dragon Metamorphosis, but Divine Cleave was fair game. Lord Frostbane had vanished from the Immortal Realm eons ago; almost no one here would recognize that move except Jade. It was time to go all in, consequences be damned.
He summoned his Chaos Dragon Force, letting it roar through his body like a hurricane. He’d finish these two in one move. The original plan—to lose early and sneak into the mines—was shattered. These maniacs wouldn’t rest until he was dead. Regret was pointless; all he could do now was fight with everything he had and see where fate took him.
The two charged at Evan from front and back, sealing every escape route with ruthless precision. Their confidence was absolute—they thought Evan was finished. But at the moment of their triumph, the tables turned in an instant.
Suddenly, Evan’s longsword blazed with fire-red light, a torrent of sword-qi bursting forth like a dragon’s roar. Thunder crackled in its wake as the strike swept toward both enemies, locking down every path of retreat just as they’d tried to box him in. The energy storm was overwhelming—a spectacle that left no room for escape.
In a heartbeat, howling winds and raging energy storms tore through the martial field. Evan’s attack landed with earth-shattering force, blasting both opponents away like broken kites. They lay sprawled, unable to move, their God Infants shattered by the blow—death was only a matter of time. The crowd could only watch in stunned silence, awed by the brutality of the scene.
They weren’t dead yet, but only because their hearts refused to surrender—how could an early-stage Heavenly God unleash such monstrous power? But the most humiliated and dumbstruck was the Hall Master himself. He stared at Evan, utterly speechless, his pride shattered in front of the entire hall…