Chapter 294: A Moment of Peace in the Underworld

Chapter 294: Chapter 294: A Moment of Peace in the Underworld

Chapter 294: A Moment of Peace in the Underworld

Unaware of the catastrophic storm that had just descended upon the Celestial Elixir Pavilion thousands of miles away, Rhain was leisurely making his way back toward Skullcrusher’s heavily warded stone suite.

Behind him followed his three newly subdued slaves—Skullcrusher, Deathblade, and his third acquisition, the earth-arts user who went by the alias Bloodfiend.

As they traversed the outer rings of the inner city, Rhain suddenly noticed an abnormality.

The usually desolate stone streets were bustling with an unprecedented amount of noise.

The number of people walking on the streets tonight was way more than usual.

Rhain’s footsteps slowed, and he glanced all around him.

Masked figures crowded around various dimly lit establishments, the sharp scent of spiritual wine and roasted meat drifting heavily through the air.

"Why are there so many people out tonight?" Rhain asked, his gaze sweeping over a group of raucous cultivators stumbling out of a nearby alleyway.

Skullcrusher stepped forward respectfully, lowering his heavy head.

"Master, tonight is the weekly designated rest night," Skullcrusher explained, "Once every week, the taverns and wine houses in the outer and inner rings offer heavily discounted spiritual wine. It is one of the few traditions the Nine Seats of the Crucible Throne allow to keep the fighters from going completely insane."

Skullcrusher hesitated for a moment, glancing at Deathblade and Bloodfiend who had the same expectant look in their eyes as him, before he looked back at Rhain.

"Master..." Skullcrusher asked somewhat timidly, "If you wish, we could stop for a drink? To celebrate your consecutive victories today. Of course, only if Master permits it."

Rhain stopped walking.

He looked at the three towering, battle-scarred Domain Masters standing behind him.

In the outside world, these men were exalted existences who could command thousands.

But here, in this lawless hell, they were just men fighting for scraps of survival.

Rhain understood their mentality perfectly.

In the Crucible Arena, no one could say for sure that they would live to see tomorrow’s sunrise.

Death was always just one arena match or one dark alleyway away.

Because of that dangerous reality, they try to fully enjoy every single second they were still breathing.

Rhain gave a small nod after a brief thought.

"Lead the way," Rhain said calmly.

Skullcrusher’s eyes lit up with visible relief and gratitude. "Yes, Master! There is a decent place just down this avenue."

-------------------

A few minutes later, the group stepped into a dingy, dimly lit tavern.

They could hear the constant loud clinking of heavy mugs, and the boisterous laughter of masked killers.

Rhain’s dark grey eyes casually swept across the establishment.

The moment he looked around, he realized just how horrifying the baseline strength of the Crucible Arena truly was.

The burly bartender, casually wiping down a dirty glass behind the wooden counter, radiated the suppressed aura of a peak Core Formation Realm expert.

Even the slender serving girl navigating between the crowded tables, carrying a heavy tray of ale, moved with a impossibly light footwork.

The thick calluses on her palms and the sharp glint in her eyes were entirely consistent with a veteran sword master.

In this place, no one was normal.

Every single person, from the drunkards in the corner to the girl serving drinks, was a deadly killer hiding behind a mask.

Skullcrusher quickly secured a corner booth, tossing a few Blood Iron tokens to the serving girl to ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Once they were at a distance from the noise and prying eyes, the three Domain Masters finally relaxed their tense shoulders, and enjoy the burning spiritual wine that was brought to their table.

Alongside the heavy mugs, the serving girl had casually dropped several long, hollow bamboo reeds—a simple, practical necessity in a city where removing one’s mask meant an immediate death sentence.

Rhain’s gaze rested on his two newest acquisitions.

"Deathblade. Bloodfiend," Rhain asked calmly, "Who were you both outside of this place? And why did you end up here?"

Deathblade and Bloodfiend immediately stiffened.

Deathblade let out a bitter, self-deprecating sigh.

"I have nothing to hide from you, Master," Deathblade murmured hoarsely, "My real name is Yaron. I was the eldest son of the Vermillion Blade Clan in the eastern territories of the dynasty."

Skullcrusher’s eyes widened instantly behind his helm.

"Vermillion Blade Clan?" Skullcrusher blurted out in shock. "I heard of that massacre before I fled into this arena! Your entire clan was wiped out overnight!"

Deathblade’s hands clenched into tight, trembling fists.

"Yes," Deathblade gritted his teeth, his eyes turning entirely bloodshot with deep, unhealed hatred. "We were slaughtered. Every man, woman, and child. Golden Cloud Sect coveted our ancestral blade manual. They attacked us under the cover of night. I was the only one who managed to escape through a secret teleportation array."

Skullcrusher sucked in a sharp breath of cold air, looking at Deathblade with profound astonishment.

"Golden Cloud Sect..." Skullcrusher muttered. "No wonder you fled here. Their Patriarch is a late-stage Domain Master! To seek revenge against a faction of that caliber... you would need a miracle."

"I don’t care how strong he is," Deathblade spoke with murderous eyes, "That is why I came to this slaughterhouse. I fight every day, risking my life in the blood pits, just to temper my foundation and buy enough resources to grow stronger. Even if it takes me a hundred years, I will return and sever his head from his neck!"

Rhain listened to the pitiful backstory in complete silence.

He didn’t offer any words of comfort.

In the martial world, tragic backstories were as common as the dirt on the ground.

Only strength mattered.

Rhain’s dark grey eyes then shifted toward Bloodfiend.

Bloodfiend let out a weary chuckle, raising his cup to take a long sip of the burning wine.

"My story is not as grand as Yaron’s," Bloodfiend sighed. "I was a rogue cultivator. I discovered an ancient, top-tier Mystic-Grade inheritance in a hidden ruin. But my sworn brothers—men I had trusted with my life for fifty years—betrayed me the moment we unsealed the vault. They poisoned me, and hunted me across three provinces just to claim the inheritance for themselves."

Bloodfiend’s eyes darkened with cold malice. "I survived, but my foundation was severely crippled. I came to the Crucible Arena because it was the only place their influence couldn’t reach, hoping to harvest enough Blood-Iron Tokens to purchase a miracle pill to restore my meridians."

As each of them told about their own stories, and experiences, a bond formed between the three Domain Masters.

They had all been forced into this underground hell simply because they lacked the overwhelming strength to dictate their own fates.

The three men turned their gazes toward the slender, dark-robed man sitting at the head of the table.

Yet, despite their burning curiosity, not a single one of them dared to ask Rhain about his own origins.

They knew their place.

Rhain took a slow sip of the spiritual wine.

"Keep surviving," Rhain said flatly, his dark grey eyes placid. "When the time comes, your enemies will be nothing more than stepping stones."

------------------

An hour later, the group left the dingy tavern and returned to Skullcrusher’s secure stone suite.

Rhain didn’t linger in the main hall.

He instructed the three Domain Masters to guard the perimeter, and then stepped directly into the isolated inner chamber, sealing the stone doors behind him.

Rhain walked to the center of the room and sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor.

He closed his dark grey eyes, instantly sinking his consciousness deep into his dantian.

The pitch-black core hovering in the center of his void was spinning with a ravenous hunger.

Today, he had fought three life-and-death battles.

He had pushed his Abyssal Sovereign Physique to its limits, continuously executing Emperor-Grade and Mystic-Grade martial arts while perfectly maintaining his Origin Domain of Darkness against three different Domain Masters.

That extreme physical exertion had acted like a brutal hammer, perfectly tempering the massive volume of energy he had accumulated over the past week.

The stagnant feeling in his meridians was completely gone.

"It is time," Rhain murmured softly in the darkness.