Ever since Li Zhexian achieved more than thirty consecutive victories,
the na Blood Slaughter Sword had spread through the entire Slaughter City.
From then on, whenever he wished to enter the arena,
he often had to wait several days.
That day—
He heard word that the seed contender for "Hundred-Victory King" of the Northern District
was set to appear in a match.
With nothing else occupying him,
he set off toward the north.
The northern arena differed little from the southern one.
Outside the gate,
shadows crawled with lurking fugitives, waiting to ambush survivors.
But Li Zhexian hadn't co to kill this ti—
he only wanted to see what sort of power this "northern champion" possessed.
With a flick of his hand,
he tossed out dozens of cups of Bloody Mary as the entry fee—
for the first ti, choosing to watch a match instead of fighting in it.
The feeling was strange.
Darkness pressed in from all directions,
so thick he couldn't tell if anyone else was nearby—
yet he could sense countless faint auras stirring all around him.
In that pitch-black void,
only the distant arena glowed faintly with a dim yellow light.
"So this is what it feels like to watch a match…"
"Not bad at all."
Li Zhexian fixed his gaze on the stage.
At the edge of that yellow glow,
ten silhouettes slowly erged from the darkness.
Then suddenly—
his chest ward.
Reaching into his robes,
he pulled out a small object—
a pure white, luminous feather as soft as light itself.
The Angel's Sacred Feather.
Li Zhexian's heart skipped a beat.
He clenched the feather tightly in his palm, his sharp gaze snapping back toward the arena.
At that exact mont—
the darkness ebbed away like a receding tide.
A blinding streak of gold seized every gaze in the arena.
On the stage, the mont Qian Renxue appeared, her brilliant golden eyes fluctuated violently.
She anxiously scanned the faces of the other nine people on the stage—grotesque, twisted, terrifying... but none were the face that haunted her dreams.
Instinctively, she quickly looked toward the audience area. Her gaze penetrated the viscous darkness and settled on a certain spot among the spectators.
"Li… Li Zhexian…"
"Is that… you?"
Her heart surged uncontrollably,
so much that she didn't even notice the nine opponents closing in on her from all sides.
As one of the "Hundred-Victory King" seeds of the North District,
Qian Renxue, like Li Zhexian, always drew the imdiate aggression of every fighter present.
From the audience area,
Li Zhexian saw her staring straight into the shadows where he sat—
so focused on him she was oblivious to the danger surrounding her.
His eyes tightened.
"Qian—!"
He tried to call out—
but she couldn't hear him.
Just as nine vicious attacks were about to fall upon her—
Boom—! Boom—!
A torrent of radiant, blood-tinged light-elent Spirit Power
burst violently from Qian Renxue's body.
The shockwave hurled her attackers
more than ten ters away.
Her golden hair stread in the air,
her beauty edged with lethal majesty.
Holy flas surged skyward,
a sword of light took form.
On the stage, her Angel Wings spread wide.
Feathers of light crisscrossed like bolts of bright lightning tearing through the darkness.
A series of agonizing screams rang out. In just a few breaths, nine broken corpses lay scattered around the exquisitely solitary figure.
nine broken bodies lay strewn
around that solitary, radiant figure.
She didn't even stop to breathe.
Her golden eyes, filled with feverish urgency,
searched once more toward the darkened audience area.
Then her body turned into a streak of light—
and shot out of the arena.
For several long seconds,
the audience area were utterly silent.
Then—
The explosion of shocked voices
erupted like thunder.
"What terrifying power!"
"That Spirit Power pressure—she must already be a Spirit Douluo!"
"An Angel Martial Soul?! She's— she must be of the Qian Clan!"
"How could soone of such noble lineage
enter this filthiest of places—the Slaughter City itself?!"
"Of all the 'undred-Victory King' contenders across the four districts,
this Angel Martial Soul ranks among the absolute peak!"
"I'd wager the Blood Slaughter Sword is still fiercer!"
"Angel versus Blood Slaughter Sword—who would win?!"
Qian Renxue burst through the gates of the Slaughter Arena.
Under the dim, oppressive sky—
Her figure, radiant and divine,
beca the single gleam of light
in a world of gray and shadow.
Yet that heavenly beauty—
To the lurking hunters outside the arena,
it was terror incarnate.
Their once-greedy, twisted faces
were instantly overtaken by horror;
they scattered like beasts before fire.
These scavengers had not expected
the first victor to erge from the arena
to be her—
the goddess of death herself.
And what terrified them even more
was the look of urgency on the so-called Angel's face—
sothing none of them had ever seen before.
The "Angel" of the North District,
known for her decisive cruelty and radiant, rciless light—
when had anyone ever seen her lose composure like this?
Qian Renxue paid them no attention.
Panic flickered in her golden eyes as she searched frantically around,
her bright golden hair gleaming with light in the dim air.
"Where… where is he?!"
The joy that had blossod across her flawless face
slowly faded, stiffened,
and finally froze into quiet despair.
The brilliance in her golden eyes dimd bit by bit.
"Was it… just my imagination?"
"But I clearly…"
She murmured to herself, dazed.
Then—
Her eyes suddenly lit up.
She spun around sharply—
and there, stepping out from the shadows of the arena,
was a young man in black.
…
His features were different.
His bearing was different.
Yet the instant her gaze t his—
a shiver ran through her soul.
That familiar, ineffable heartbeat,
that whisper of recognition—
it filled her, beyond all doubt.
In that mont,
she knew.
Even without the Angel Feather,
no matter how he changed,
she would always recognize him—
at a single glance.
"You…"
Her lips trembled;
the word barely ford—
When the youth's figure flickered—
and he turned,
rushing swiftly southward.
Qian Renxue's heart clenched tight.
Without a thought,
her wings flared open behind her—
She shot forward,
a streak of gold chasing through the night.
The sudden chase left every onlooker inside and outside the Killing Fields stunned.
"That black-clad youth—he's the Blood Slaughter Sword from the south?!"
"The Northern and Southern seeds—facing off?!"
"This will shake the entire Slaughter City!"
"Do you even need to ask who's stronger?
Look at the Blood Slaughter Sword—he's running!
Of course the Angel's stronger!"
The news spread like wildfire—
"The Angel hunts the Bloodslaughter Sword!"
The entire inner city roared with it.
Li Zhexian's figure moved like the wind;
within a few leaps,
he'd already crossed from the north to the south.
Behind him—
Qian Renxue's golden wings beat furiously,
her Spirit Power unleashed in full.
Her speed
surpassed even his.
"Two years apart!"
"And you run at the sight of ?!"
"I have questions for you!"
Her voice shook with both anger and hurt.
Seeing the black-clad youth slip into a courtyard,
she didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat—
and rushed in after him.
As she stepped into the courtyard,
her heart was filled with grievance,
ready to demand why he fled from her—
but the mont she crossed the threshold,
her steps faltered.
Purple moonlight spilled like silk across the silent courtyard.
A single withered tree stood there,
its branches gnarled and bare—
so unlike the lush plum tree in the Heaven Dou garden of her mories.
Beneath it stood the young man in black,
his back turned,
his figure half-lted into the endless night.
Qian Renxue's eyes trembled.
Before her gaze,
the dark ink of his robe began to fade—
like watercolor washed by a spring stream—
the black lting away in soft wisps,
until what remained was snow-white.
In just a few monts,
the youth before her was clad in white as pure as fresh snow—
just as he had been two years ago,
the image she had clung to in her heart ever since.
"Li…"
Her lips trembled;
the na caught halfway in her throat.
The young man turned at her voice.
Under the moonlight,
his handso face beca clear.
"I thought it over…"
His voice was quiet,
carrying a touch of gentle warmth she hadn't heard in so long.
"To et you again,
I thought I should at least wear my true face."
Those words shattered the dam Qian Renxue had been holding inside her heart for two long years.
All the longing, the hurt, the ache—
burst forth like a flood she could no longer contain.
"Li Zhexian!"
Her cry pierced the night.
No longer caring about pride or restraint,
Qian Renxue threw herself into the arms of the white-clad youth.
"I've… finally found you again!"
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