Chapter Four: The Bloody Massacre of the City

Staring at Chu Jie, who had already lost consciousness, the old man shifted his arm, the iron chains wrapped around it clinking with each movement. Countless starlit ripples shimmered along the chains, each as thick as a watermelon.

Before long, another elder approached. If Chu Jie were awake, he would have recognized him immediately—this was Steward Su, the man in charge of the dungeon. Steward Su gave the old man a slight smile. “What are your orders?”

The old man’s face remained utterly calm. “Give him a peerless martial scripture, and send this young man out.”

Steward Su suppressed the delight that flashed in his eyes and replied with a smile, “It is my honor.” With that, he led Chu Jie away, vanishing into the darkness.

Bloodslaughter City—such was the name of this dark city on the eastern edge of the Wastelands.

The Wastelands comprised thousands of miles of majestic, turbulent territory where great clans vied for supremacy, families rose and fell, monsters lurked, and cruel men abounded. The Yang clan was but a single grain of sand in this vast sea.

The Dark City, as it was known, was a place of exile for the most heinous criminals in the Wastelands. There were no laws, no humanity, and no morality here—anything and everything could be seized with one’s fists.

Status, beauty, rare treasures—whatever your mind could conjure could be yours, if only you possessed the strength. Today one might be crowned king, and tomorrow be reduced to a prisoner, trampled and humiliated at will. Today a man was but a humble guard; tomorrow, he could carve out his own kingdom.

Opportunity and danger walked hand in hand. In a place where human nature was twisted to its limit, those within saw it as paradise; those without, as hell.

The carriage rolled slowly across the barren Wastelands, mile after desolate mile, the spiritual energy here pitifully thin. More than a dozen prisoners rode within, each wearing a different expression—some dejected, others with a faint glimmer of anticipation in their eyes. The escort was a squadron of armored soldiers.

Leading them was a female general. Her gleaming silver armor strained against her proud chest, her face was exquisitely beautiful, and her features radiated arrogance and heroic vigor. Her slender jade waist, barely enough for a hand to encircle, sat above full, rounded hips that rose and fell with her horse’s motion—drawing a gulp from the bald prisoner beside Chu Jie.

“Damn, she’s fine! I’d lose ten years of my life just to spend a night with her!” the bald man muttered quietly.

Chu Jie ignored him, gazing back at Bloodcloud City, scarcely believing he had actually been released. He stretched his hand out of the prison cart, letting the breeze brush past. Only then did the surreal haze finally clear from his mind.

Snap!

The female general’s whip lashed out, straight as an arrow, striking Chu Jie’s hand and instantly raising a welt.

She rode up with a murderous look. “Sit still!”

Chu Jie winced, withdrawing his hand. He recognized the general—Yang Yun’s cousin, Yang Luan. He had once secretly witnessed her having an affair with Yang Yun.

Seeing the hatred blaze in Chu Jie’s eyes, Yang Luan whipped him again. “Lowly wretch! Look at me like that once more and I’ll gouge your eyes out!”

Swallowing his anger, Chu Jie lowered his head and clenched his fists, his gaze icy with murderous intent.

“The Yang clan! One day, when I have mastered my power, I will drown them in blood!”

Seeing him yield, the pain from Yang Yun’s death eased a little in Yang Luan’s heart. She turned around and waved toward Steward Su two hundred meters away, then spurred her horse forward.

Standing atop Bloodcloud City’s wall, Steward Su frowned as he watched Chu Jie endure Yang Luan’s lashes. He simply couldn’t fathom why the old man would exchange a supreme martial scripture just to have this youth sent to Bloodslaughter City…

Inside the jouncing prison cart, Chu Jie slowly calmed his mind and focused on his dantian.

The “Scroll of Reincarnation”—that was the ancient text the old man had transmitted into Chu Jie’s mind.

Though its contents were obscure and difficult to grasp, Chu Jie’s comprehension was extraordinary; he had already understood most of it. This eased the headache he’d always had over the lack of cultivation manuals.

After running through seven or eight circulations, Chu Jie’s face lit up with joy! He realized that this “Scroll of Reincarnation” was, in fact, a top-tier cultivation manual. Though he didn’t know exactly how high its grade was, from all the martial texts he had secretly read and overheard over the years, none could compare.

In this world, all cultivators sought the Dao through martial prowess. The strong could swallow mountains and rivers, and at a single thought, slaughter thousands of miles of land.

Chu Jie had once seen the Yang clan’s patriarch shatter a mountain over twenty meters tall with a single sword strike.

Yet the path of cultivation was one that defied heaven itself. Even the first realm of the martial path, the “Body Tempering Realm,” was divided into nine stages.

The first was Nourishing Qi—drawing in spiritual energy from heaven and earth, and sensing its presence. At this stage, a martial artist’s arms alone could wield the strength of a hundred pounds.

The second was Strengthening the Tendons, increasing one’s power to five hundred pounds.

The third was Stirring the Blood, the blood running hot and wild, granting a thousand pounds of force.

Fourth was Empowering the Bones, with strength reaching five thousand pounds.

Fifth was Breaking the Acupoints, allowing power to flow through all the major points in the body. The strength in one’s arms could now break past ten thousand pounds.

The sixth allowed one to use the power of the acupoints to protect the body and employ martial techniques. The body was refined to the extreme; a single blow could equal the might of a dragon.

The seventh was Circulating Qi Through the Body, imbuing weapons with hidden power. Two dragons’ worth of force—enough to look down on the world.

The eighth allowed one to wield energy beyond the body, the skin shimmering with starlight—five dragons’ strength, a veritable human tyrant.

The ninth and final stage—spiritual energy coursed throughout the entire body, converging at the dantian, breaking through to the next realm. Ten dragons of power, entering the Spirit Convergence Realm. Thus did one truly step onto the path of cultivation—swords that soared like immortals, pressing down all rivals, holding sun, moon, and stars in the palm of one’s hand—unrivaled and supreme.

All the martial texts Chu Jie had ever glimpsed were about absorbing the world’s energy, with the body acting as a filter to slowly refine out impurities.

But the “Scroll of Reincarnation” was utterly different.

This text proclaimed that the universe itself was a great furnace. One did not merely absorb, but fought for spiritual energy—contending for it, seizing all the surrounding energy and forcing it into the body.

Such was its domineering nature! For most, the pain of practicing this art would be unbearable. But Chu Jie’s physique was of the Ninth Calamity, so he cared not at all.

Yet, before long, Chu Jie grimaced. He finally realized how wasteful his body truly was!

If he had a normal constitution, he would have already broken through to the fifth or even sixth stage under such a high-grade art. But with his own body, the spiritual energy barely budged.

His advancement was at least five times harder than that of ordinary people! If he wanted more heavenly treasures, Bloodslaughter City was his only hope.

He opened his palm. Resting in it was a tattered map, the only thing his father had left him. He’d said that should Chu Jie ever destroy the Yang clan, he should visit that spot to pay his respects.

Gazing westward toward Bloodslaughter City, Chu Jie’s eyes shone with determination!

Half a year to destroy the Yang clan! Nine great tribulations! The pressure was immense, but so too was his swelling ambition.

In this lifetime, I, Chu Jie, will ascend to the very pinnacle of all living things!

All who have humiliated and wronged me will kneel beneath my feet!

But for now, the goal was simple: find spiritual herbs and break through the fifth layer to reach the sixth.

Bloodslaughter City was home to a million convicts, divided into three outer rings, an inner city, and several chaotic outer districts. Factions overlapped, blood and flesh clashed daily.

Where there are people, there will be strife; Bloodslaughter City was no exception. The closer one got to the inner city, the richer the families, treasures, and beauties became.

In the chaotic districts, a man’s son might have his throat slit by an enemy at any time; his wife could find a lecherous stranger crawling atop her some dark night.

Want your wife and son to live in safety, to eat their fill each day? Good! Then fight your way into the outer city! Struggle! Compete!

Those in the chaotic districts fought tooth and nail to enter the outer city; those in the first outer ring would abandon their families to reach the second, and those in the second did anything to climb to the first. Those in the first outer ring sought to secure their status and enter the inner city.

Human desire had no bounds, and so each day countless tragedies unfolded in Bloodslaughter City. Every day, people died, and the surrounding towns sent fresh convicts to replenish the city.

After a flash of light, Chu Jie finally stepped out from the teleportation array.

Though Bloodslaughter City was less than ten thousand miles from where he’d started, it had taken three teleportations to arrive.

Looking up, Chu Jie saw a sea of tents stretching ahead like a boundless ocean. At the very horizon, an endless city wall blocked his view.

The wall stood over fifty meters tall, its length lost in the distance, winding like a giant dragon fallen to earth—magnificent and awe-inspiring.

Snap!

Yang Luan’s whip cracked across the prisoners’ backs. “You worthless dogs! Get moving!”

Chu Jie’s clothes tore as the lash struck him. He turned, eyes blazing with fury at Yang Luan, fists clenched until the veins bulged.

“That wretched woman!”

He was not alone—his fellow prisoners glared with equal hatred.

Yang Luan’s lips curled in scorn. “You trash dare defy me?” As she spoke, a faint layer of starlight shimmered over her body.

She stood at the peak of the seventh stage of the Body Tempering Realm; starlight flickered on her body, hinting at a breakthrough to the eighth. With over a hundred thousand pounds of strength, she was a formidable expert.

Chu Jie tightened his fists. Though Yang Luan was a woman, her talent was frightening—otherwise, she would not have been entrusted with this escort.

For a moment, the standoff hung in the air.

“Well, well, who’s made my beauty angry this time?” a lascivious laugh rang out behind Chu Jie and the others.

At the sound, Yang Luan’s brows arched, her eyes blooming with flirtation. She smiled seductively. “How could I trouble Young Master Luo to come greet me in person?”

Her voice was honeyed, her body all but melting into Young Master Luo’s embrace.

Young Master Luo, followed by a dozen retainers, wore a lecherous grin. He pulled Yang Luan into his arms, his hand kneading her firm hips, a finger lifting her chin. “Tell me, beauty, who’s upset you? I’ll deal with them for you.”

Yang Luan giggled coquettishly, her eyes flashing. “It’s these prisoners, of course.”

A cold gleam flashed in Young Master Luo’s eyes. “Kill them all—let’s ease my beauty’s anger!”

Chu Jie’s fists clenched as spiritual energy slowly gathered in his palms. If Young Master Luo’s men truly attacked, Chu Jie would not hesitate to fight back.

Sensing Chu Jie’s body tense, Young Master Luo’s brow rose and a wicked smile spread across his face. “What, you’re not convinced?”

He stepped forward, and his aura surged forth! In an instant, it was as if Chu Jie stood opposite the world itself. Young Master Luo’s presence crashed over him like a vast ocean, engulfing him—a tiny boat in a storm, ready to capsize at any moment.

Invincible. Unassailable. This Young Master Luo was at least at the Spirit Convergence Realm! The sense of impending doom made Chu Jie’s heart tremble.

“Hmph! I’m talking to you!” Suddenly, a crimson light blazed from Young Master Luo, streaking through the air to strike Chu Jie.

Chu Jie was thrown through the air, crashing to the ground. His mouth filled with blood, which he spat out as he glared up in fury.

Why? Why am I still so weak? Grow stronger—I must grow stronger!

Young Master Luo’s wicked grin widened. “Pathetic. You’re no different than a dog.” He turned away, not even sparing Chu Jie another glance. “You don’t even deserve to die by my hand.”

His arrogance was absolute—a god looking coldly down at mortals.

“You don’t even deserve… to die by my hand!” The words hammered into Chu Jie’s heart, forcing another mouthful of blood from his lips.

No one could see Chu Jie’s face at that moment—contorted, twisted, unyielding.

If only I’d reached the sixth stage, I might have stood a chance; if I’d reached the seventh, the eighth… With the body of the Ninth Calamity, I would not have feared Young Master Luo at all!

All I lack are the right resources and spirit herbs! Never before has Chu Jie so desperately longed to advance!

“Hmph! Send them to the worst, the Nine Worms District,” Young Master Luo said impatiently, waving them off as if they were a pack of dogs. He didn’t even look at Chu Jie—a man beneath his notice.

The retainers immediately drove Chu Jie and the others away.

Chu Jie looked back just in time to see Young Master Luo’s hand kneading Yang Luan’s proud chest, her eyes closed in pleasure.

“Shameless pair! One day, I’ll have you begging at my feet!” Chu Jie cursed under his breath and followed the others.

“The chaotic sector is divided into a dozen areas. The Nine Worms District is the most chaotic; supplies are scarcest and the survival rate is the lowest. Offending Young Master Luo—truly your misfortune!” their lead escort said.

But Chu Jie and the others said nothing, heads down as they trudged onward.

After half a day’s march, they finally arrived at the Nine Worms District—a sprawl of endless tents, piles of refuse, and an oppressive, restless air.

“These Nine Worms scum are getting worse! Not even sending anyone to receive the prisoners!” the lead retainer cursed, then turned to Chu Jie and the others. “Get in there! Hope you’re not all doomed to die young!”

With that, he and the others left, leaving Chu Jie’s group staring at one another.

“Let’s go! I don’t believe there’s anyone inside who’ll eat us!” the bald man said, leading the way into the Nine Worms District.

Chu Jie let the bald man scout ahead, following cautiously behind.

Lowering his head, Chu Jie marveled at the strength of his Nine Calamities Body. A warm current flowed in his dantian, rapidly healing his wounds—and, incredibly, a stubborn will surged up from his very bones!

Sensing this will, Chu Jie’s mood instantly brightened. “Nine Calamities Body, are you angry too? Hmph, all we need is time! Soon enough, I’ll have Young Master Luo groveling beneath my feet!”

The surrounding tents were filthy—many hadn’t housed a living soul in ages, some even contained rotting corpses.

Chaos. Squalor. Despair.

After about five hundred meters, a tumult erupted ahead. Chu Jie peered out—two hundred meters away, two groups of more than fifty were brawling.

Both sides were fierce, most only at the second or third stage of the Body Tempering Realm. Amidst them, a young woman wielded a long blade, hacking back and forth!

Her ponytail danced as she moved, her clothes stained with blood, even her fair face speckled with crimson drops. Her blade whirled like a dragon, swirling with blue-black energy that swept all before it.

Her opponent was a shirtless brute, face brutish, brandishing a spiked club.

“Hey, little Qi! Why not just give in? Hand over that Spirit-Gathering Herb, and I’ll spare your life—and love you every day!” The brute’s eyes flashed with greed, leering incessantly at the girl’s chest.

Chu Jie’s gaze sharpened. The Spirit-Gathering Herb—one of the very things he needed to grow stronger!

He licked his lips. His chance had come.