Chapter 20: Massacre (Part 1)


    Standing by the crevice, Han Ming remained silent for a long time. It was here, three years ago, that he, along with Wei''er, Dar, and Kaja, had been driven to the brink of death by their pursuers. He had nearly lost his life, and Wei''er''s fate remained unknown to this day. All of this was thanks to the Dark Hall and that despicable Kaelvin.


    Han Ming slowly raised his head, his eyes blazing with an overwhelming hatred. Two years of life-and-death trials had not made his body more rugged. On the contrary, he looked even more delicate than when he first arrived in this world. Logically, he should have been covered in bulging muscles by now, but the constant nourishment from the Life Pond had kept his physique ordinary. If someone were to claim he was a martial artist, no one would believe it.


    A gentle breeze swept by, tousling Han Ming''s flowing black hair and causing his cloak to flutter in the wind.


    He adjusted his cloak, pulling the hood over his head to conceal his handsome, delicate face.


    It was time to move on.


    Meanwhile, the Valley of Death was anything but peaceful. Three years ago, Han Ming had entered this place, and two years ago, he had fallen into the abyss. By now, the selection process for the batch of youths he had been part of had long concluded. Now, another group of newly captured youths was nearing the end of their own deadly competition. It turned out that as soon as Han Ming and his group had stepped out of the stone cave to begin their death match, another batch of youths had already been locked away, waiting for their turn.


    In the center of the Valley of Death, over a hundred black-clad figures formed a circle. Inside the circle were forty youths who had survived thus far, undergoing the final selection. The rules were clear: only twenty would emerge victorious, earning the Dark Hall''s favor and the opportunity to be trained.


    Everyone fought desperately to survive. Here, failure meant death—there were no second chances.


    **"Ha!"**


    In the open space within the circle, two youths clashed fiercely, neither willing to give up, for surrender meant the end of their lives. A full year of brutal combat had stripped their faces of any expression, leaving their bodies covered in scars. Every survivor was a strong individual—they could be deceitful, courageous, or even opportunistic. But the rule here was simple: survival of the fittest.


    One of the combatants was a tall, cold-faced girl. Her opponent was a nearly three-meter-tall giant, whose physical strength and explosive power far surpassed hers. In a direct confrontation, she stood little chance, and she knew it. Instead of engaging him head-on, she continuously maneuvered around the edges of the arena, aiming to exhaust the giant''s stamina.


    The prolonged battle had made the giant increasingly irritable. Roaring, he desperately tried to grab the girl and deliver a fatal blow. His growing rage disrupted his movements, and his patience wore thin.


    This was exactly what the girl had been waiting for. Suddenly, she stopped running and stood still. The giant, thinking she had given up, charged at her with a roar. A faint smile curled on the girl''s lips as she spotted an opening. With a swift motion, she kicked up a cloud of sand, engulfing the giant.


    The sand rushed into the giant''s eyes, and he cursed inwardly, too late to rub them as he hastily retreated. But a cold, sharp sensation at his neck made his heart sink. He knew it was over.


    The girl sheathed her dagger and walked back to the crowd without a second glance, leaving the giant to collapse to his knees, clutching his neck in a futile attempt to stem the gushing blood.


    A black-clad figure nodded slightly, while another beside him said coldly, "Pass. Next group."


    **Clap, clap, clap!**


    "Still as brutal as ever, I see..."


    The sound of applause suddenly echoed from outside the arena.


    Everyone present was startled, turning to see a slender figure in a black cloak approaching slowly, his face completely hidden.


    "Who are you?!" one of the black-clad figures barked, his heart racing. How had this person approached without any of the hundred Dark Hall members noticing? A deep sense of unease filled him. This intruder was clearly not here with good intentions.


    The mysterious figure chuckled as he approached, slowly pulling back his hood to reveal a delicate, handsome face. "Shadow, don''t you recognize me? It''s no wonder—two years have passed. In that time, you''ve slaughtered thousands. It''s only natural you''d forget me." This was none other than Han Ming, and the black-clad figure was none other than Shadow, the leader of their group.


    "It''s you?!" Shadow exclaimed, shooting a questioning glance at one of his subordinates. Of course, he remembered Han Ming. The boy had left a deep impression on him—he was the first in years to dare fight back. Shadow had even admired Han Ming back then. But unfortunately, Han Ming had crossed paths with Kaelvin, the Dark Hall''s chosen fire mage, and had to be sacrificed. The subordinate Shadow glanced at was the one who had been secretly tracking Han Ming and the others. Shadow had a bad feeling about this. Han Ming should have been dead, yet here he was, standing before them. And he had come back willingly. What was his goal? What was his leverage? Had he found a powerful backer to seek revenge?


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The subordinate narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "You and that female member were blasted into the crevice and fell into the magma. If I''m not mistaken, you were already dead when the fireball hit you. And falling into the magma below, there''s no way you could have survived. Who are you really?!"


    Han Ming noticed Shadow''s eyes darting behind him and chuckled. "Don''t bother looking. I came alone. As for how I survived, that''s none of your concern. Since you remember how I ended up in that situation, that''s good. At least you''ll die knowing why."


    "Just you? No matter where you''ve been these past two years, or what opportunities you''ve had, it''s impossible for you to have grown so strong in such a short time," the black-clad figure retorted, clearly skeptical. To him, this situation reeked of something unnatural, something beyond reason. If Han Ming was speaking like this without any backing, he must be insane.


    "Test him," Shadow ordered one of his subordinates. He wanted to see if Han Ming had the strength to back up his arrogance. He knew full well that the batch of youths they had captured back then were all ordinary teenagers. His subordinates, on the other hand, were almost all second-tier warriors. Without learning combat skills or cultivating battle energy, even the most talented individual would only be a slightly stronger ordinary person. Even if Han Ming was a genius and had somehow reached the first tier of warriors in two years, he would still only be a first-tier warrior at best. More importantly, Shadow sensed no battle energy emanating from Han Ming. And who could have possibly activated his battle energy for him?


    The subordinate stepped forward, his voice icy. "If you survived, you should have run. But now, you''ve lost that chance." As he spoke, he began to approach Han Ming, his speed increasing with each step. A faint cross-shaped mark flickered on his forehead, indicating that he was at least a first-tier warrior!


    Han Ming said nothing, simply standing there with a smile as the black-clad figure attacked. The youths forced to participate in the death match watched nervously, their hearts secretly hoping Han Ming could save them. But upon hearing that Han Ming was just another participant like them, their hopes were dashed. If Han Ming died, they would have to continue the final battle, and only twenty of the forty would survive. No one wanted to be among the eliminated.


    The black-clad figure''s speed surged as he drew a gleaming dagger. When he was within five meters of Han Ming, he leaped into the air, his body twisting at an impossible angle. A faint aura of battle energy surrounded him as his dagger shot straight for Han Ming''s throat.


    **Crack!**


    A scene that shocked everyone unfolded. Han Ming didn''t even move his feet, nor did he make any attempt to dodge. As the black-clad figure closed in, Han Ming simply raised his right hand, casually deflecting the attack and seizing the man''s neck. With a swift motion, he snapped the man''s neck and tossed the body aside.


    Shadow''s pupils contracted. In his mind, Han Ming should have been unable to avoid that strike. In terms of speed and angle, his subordinate''s attack had been nearly flawless. Even if Han Ming had somehow grown stronger, he shouldn''t have been able to kill his subordinate so effortlessly, without even bothering to dodge. Shadow had imagined countless outcomes, but this was not one of them. His expression grew darker.


    **Hiss!**


    The youths in the arena gasped. They couldn''t believe their eyes. This so-called participant, just like them, was terrifyingly powerful! A glimmer of hope sparked in their hearts. Perhaps this youth could truly save them. Each of them clenched their fists. Their hatred for the Dark Hall was no less than anyone else''s. Even if they were likely to be among the final survivors, they had lost countless friends and comrades in this Valley of Death. Han Ming''s actions made them inwardly cheer!


    "Attack!" Shadow barked. He didn''t want to test Han Ming any further. No matter how strong Han Ming had become, he couldn''t possibly defeat so many Dark Hall members.


    The black-clad figures began to spread out, surrounding Han Ming. Each of them began to emit a faint aura of battle energy.


    Han Ming elegantly clapped his hands and said, "Don''t worry. None of the Dark Hall members will leave here alive today."


    "Arrogant!"


    One of the black-clad figures growled coldly and charged forward. Simultaneously, several others attacked from all directions—some leaped into the air, others crouched low, and some charged head-on. They had Han Ming completely surrounded, targeting him from above, below, and the sides.


    Han Ming chuckled softly. This situation felt all too familiar. Back in the second level of the skeleton cave, hundreds of giant skeletons had attacked him at once, yet he had danced through their blades without a scratch. Compared to those skeletons, these black-clad figures were far weaker individually. Even if their coordination was better, it was all futile in Han Ming''s eyes.


    As the black-clad figures closed in, Han Ming pulled out a wooden stick from behind him and leaped into the air, effortlessly evading all their attacks. Mid-air, he flipped upside down, his stick raining down like a torrential storm!


    No one had expected Han Ming to move so quickly or jump so high. As the black-clad figures'' attacks missed, they hesitated, preparing to scatter and regroup for another assault. But they were too slow. It was already too late.


    **Thud, thud, thud, thud!**


    Han Ming''s stick struck with pinpoint accuracy, smashing each attacker''s head like a watermelon.


    Blood and brain matter splattered across the ground!


    "All but the ten leaders, attack together!" Shadow barked, exchanging a glance with the other leaders before giving the order.


    Over a hundred black-clad figures surged forward, surrounding Han Ming in layers.


    Han Ming landed lightly on the ground, glanced at the corpses at his feet, and laughed heartily. "You''re lucky! Today, I plan to test my true strength. At least this way, your deaths won''t be in vain. Today, all of you will pay for your actions!"


    With that, Han Ming tossed aside the wooden stick and pulled out the giant battle axe Katheryn had custom-made for him from his storage bag. He hoisted it onto his shoulder, its immense weight causing the ground to tremble violently and sending up a cloud of dust. The axe, including its handle, was a staggering three meters long!


    Everyone was stunned. A slender youth, less than two meters tall, was carrying an absurdly large battle axe on his shoulder! The sheer disproportion was mind-boggling. Even a three-meter-tall giant would struggle to wield such a weapon, yet here was Han Ming, carrying it with ease. The visual impact was indescribable.