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Chapter 347.

"King, will you take the opportunity to kill this White Death God yourself?" the beautiful girl whispered softly. "If we let him continue like this, it won't just be Shura King and the Hell Messenger to worry about. If the White Death God joins them, they'll truly be unstoppable... or should we arrange for Shura King and the Hell Messenger to confront the White Death God, letting them kill each other?"

Before she could finish, the Great Slaughter King let out a cold snort.

The beautiful girl trembled as if struck by an invisible force, crumbling to the ground.

"They cannot be touched! Do you want the entire Slaughter City to be wiped out by two Death Gods? We've already stretched the rules by introducing the Shadowless Assassin. If we intentionally pit Shura King and the Hell Messenger against the White Death God, it would be far too obvious!" The Great Slaughter King's voice was icy, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

"But you are the ruler of the Slaughter City… you can change any rules," the beautiful girl protested weakly, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth.

The Great Slaughter King shook his head slowly. "No, let them win or lose on their own! When they're consumed by the insanity brought on by excessive killing, they'll destroy themselves! By the time they reach their hundredth battle, they'll be maddened by bloodlust. Even if they manage to keep their sanity, they'll never survive the current Hell Road!"

The Great Slaughter King paused, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Since the last Death God emerged, the Hell Road has been strengthened many times over. The chances of passing it are now almost zero. This is fate!"

The beautiful girl's eyes widened, stunned by his revelation. She had never heard him speak so openly about Hell Road, the deepest secret of the Slaughter City. Nobody, save the Great Slaughter King, knew its location or the horrors that awaited those who dared to challenge it. Now, hearing him speak of it, she couldn't help but feel a strange anticipation. Would these three—Shura King, the Hell Messenger, and the White Death God—really manage to conquer Hell Road after winning a hundred victories in the Hell's Killing Fields?

Time passed.

It was the day of the 82nd battle. After months of ceaseless combat, Wang Feng slowly walked out of the Hell's Killing Field. Interestingly, since his 72nd match, the number of people sent to attack him had not diminished—in fact, it had increased.

Every battle now involved at least fifty people, all throwing themselves at him recklessly, seemingly intent on taking his life. The bizarre nature of these constant ambushes made Wang Feng suspect that this was a deliberate ploy.

As thugs surged from the shadows, trying to ambush him in the streets, Wang Feng sighed. It took mere minutes to end their lives, their blood pooling around him. As he wiped his blade clean, he turned his head to see Tang San in the distance, surrounded by corpses.

Tang San stood unscathed but visibly shaken. His eyes were bloodshot, his breath ragged, and his killing intent palpable. He had slain dozens of attackers without taking a single blow, yet the toll of so much death was weighing heavily on his spirit.

"He's killed too many. The murderous intent is starting to seep into his soul," Wang Feng muttered to himself, frowning slightly.

Not only was Tang San suffering this onslaught, but Hu Liena was enduring the same trials. Both were being relentlessly besieged by wave after wave of attackers, their lives constantly threatened. The more they killed, the deeper they sank into madness, their spirits stretched to the breaking point.

Wang Feng could see it clearly now. These weren't random attacks. The Great Slaughter King was orchestrating this, pushing them toward insanity. But why?

After Tang San staggered away, Wang Feng saw Hu Liena being ambushed by another mob, around fifty or sixty men. Her power had increased substantially over the last year, approaching level sixty, but even she was beginning to falter. After dispatching her enemies with deadly precision, Hu Liena collapsed on the ground, panting heavily, her body trembling as the aura of bloodlust clung to her like a dark cloud.

"The Great Slaughter King is doing this on purpose," Wang Feng concluded grimly.

It was obvious now. The Great Slaughter King didn't want them to reach a hundred victories. His plan was to push them to the brink, letting the killing intent consume them until they were nothing more than mindless machines of death. And by doing it this way, no one could accuse him of cheating. After all, this was the Slaughter City—their presence there was for killing. If they couldn't handle it, they had no one to blame but themselves.

Wang Feng was immune to the madness, his spirit is too strong and his mental clarity unwavering. But Tang San and Hu Liena were in danger. Their mental fortitude, strengthened by their soul bones, could only hold out for so long before they, too, would be lost to the madness.

"They're nearing their limit," Wang Feng mused. "Tang San's Mysterious Heaven Skill might help him resist the bloodlust for a while longer, but even he has his limits. If this keeps up, they'll break."

Another year passed.

Wang Feng had fought ninety-nine matches, reaching his final battle in the Hell's Killing Fields. Over the past year, his soul power had grown by two levels, now standing at fifty-seven. His Dark Angel martial soul had revealed six of its seven blood marks, with the final one still eluding him.

He could feel it—once the seventh blood mark manifested, his Dark Angel martial soul would grant him access to a true domain, a power beyond the scope of ordinary Title Douluo.

This domain wouldn't be tied to the ninth soul ability of any ordinary martial soul. No, it would be the ultimate manifestation of the Dark Angel's power—a domain born of his very essence.

...

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