Heavenly Asura Path(Percy Jackson)

Chapter 25: Blood and Slaughter (III)

The King of Slaughter sat on a throne at the highest point of Hell's Slaughter Arena. His elbow was on the armrest while his fist rested on his pale cheek. An unusual, almost human-like light shone in his eyes; while a small ghost smile was stiff on his face.

He, like many others, was watching the life-or-death battle on the stage. Blood flew and stained the ground as men and women roared. Percy, known as the Blood Tyrant, fought ruthlessly, cutting and piercing flesh and bones.

But today's battle was unusual; a man in his fifties was fighting Percy. This man seemed to be over level 80 and he fought fiercely. His body was tall and sturdy, with large hands that seemed to move the wind with simple movements.

And for the first time, Percy had a frown on his face. The man had a strange martial spirit, they were gloves with golden knuckles. Each strike was able to withstand Percy's sword. And while the latter used the openings he created by destabilizing the man and cutting his body, the opponent did not stop.

"You are the first living being that I have had such a hard time killing," Percy commented with a cold smile.

The man just snorted as he stared at Percy without blinking.

"It's a pity that you can't live anymore," Percy's gaze turned sharp, as did his presence. A saber aura flooded the battle stage as Anaklusmos trembled slightly as if he was pleased. The ground around began to cut, leaving visible and deep marks as Percy advanced step by step.

He didn't run or jump, he just walked, taking one step after the other. And with each step, the intensity of the saber aura seemed to increase to the point that the man felt the hairs on his arms being shaved and his skin cut.

 "I will not die at the hands of a brat!" the man roared as he clenched his hands into fists. The muscles all over his body bulged and he leapt forward.

Percy just waited for him, stopping his walk. His saber rose as he raised his right hand and then came down with force. The man saw how the saber seemed to increase in size, but it was just an illusion, Anaklusmos was still the same size.

But under the unstoppable momentum of the God-Slaying Sabre, the man's fists shattered. At that moment, even the King of Slaughter, a level 99 pinnacle existence, was paralyzed as he felt the force of the saber. The spectators seemed to be watching in slow motion as the man's powerful, metal-muscled arms broke and shattered into mutilated flesh as blood exploded out to the sides.

 "Descend of the Sovereign Saber," Percy's voice spread throughout the stadium as Anaklusmos continued to advance unstoppably, destroying the Spirit Douluo's entire body.

Finally, as Percy took a step back, the Spirit Douluo's large, two-meter-tall body exploded; his bones shattered as they flew everywhere. A piece of his heart was visible to everyone and the rest of his internal organs were now just unrecognizable pieces, just like the rest of his body.

A Spirit Douluo had been slaughtered just like that, easily, leaving only a bloodstain in place of a body.

"This place doesn't allow for Spirit Skills," the Slaughter King muttered with a smile, "Good brat, I created a skill with the pure intent of his Saber."

As he muttered, the Slaughter King stood up and slowly rose, stopping any praise and roar of the Blood Tyrant's name.

 Everyone fell silent and Percy looked at him carefully.

"You've been in the city of slaughter for a year and a few days. And though I'm curious as to why you haven't chosen to leave earlier, I won't ask."

"Now, as promised, I will open the road to hell for you."

"Road to hell!"

"Road to hell!"

"Road to hell!"

"Road to hell!"

The spectators roared in excitement, waiting to see the Hell Path. They all stood up in anticipation as their eyes turned red.

But, the Slaughter King's eyes turned cold as he raised a hand. At that moment, the arena stage's floor glowed red as gaps opened up from the edges. At the same time, a red mist began to surround all the spectators. The mist looked bloody and seemed to form a barrier between the stage and the spectators.

Suddenly, the entire audience became quiet, almost stagnant. They had been excited, all wanting to see the Hell Path open, but what they didn't know was that, the reason why no one had seen it, was that they were all dead or were used for the opening ritual.

Percy's eyes stagnated slightly as he watched the people's stagnant expressions become filled with excitement and began to press themselves together. All the people in the audience had survived the city of slaughter because they had a minimal level of power. But, right now, they were all crushing their bodies with that force.

Some people drank what they could get their hands on of their own blood, others even licked their own internal organs. But, the shocking thing about all this, was that their expressions seemed to have boundless delight. They looked excited, excited to crush their own bodies.

The blood that exploded from their bodies began to fall down the thin pipes that seemed indiscreet all over the arena. And like red snakes, they traveled and descended to the center of the arena.

"Rejoice…" the King of Slaughter muttered, "It is your glory to be sacrifices for the path of hell."

For the first time inside the city of slaughter, Percy was shocked. Yes, he had seen many things, whether in Tartarus or in this place, but he never expected to see people commit suicide with such joy. In the end, no matter how tempered a heart is, seeing someone of the same mind crush their bodies, drink their own blood, and lick their organs, all while wearing expressions of boundless satisfaction, would bring surprise and shock to anyone.

Eventually, the voices and screams stopped.

The blood that was dripping from the pipes into the grooves stopped, completely filling the stage with a strange pattern. Percy frowned and used his spiritual power to look at his surroundings, noticing that the pattern was a bird, but a strange and unfamiliar bird.

"I wish you luck on the path of hell," suddenly, the voice of the King of Slaughter rang out. As he said this, everything became blurry for Percy as he felt the effect of gravity on his body.

He was falling.

Everything became illusory, but for a moment, Percy was able to see the blood-red pattern better.

"That wasn't a bird, it's a damn bat," Percy muttered with a frown.

 As he fell downwards, Percy was surrounded by a murderous aura which then converged into a white aura that protected his body from the fall. Everything was dark and time seemed a bit stagnant.

Until he hit the ground hard.

If it hadn't been for this protection, even with the power of his body, he might not have survived. So, Percy carefully stood up, observing his surroundings. He was now standing on a platform about five meters in diameter, and outside of that, there was only absolute abysmal darkness.

Finally, in front of him, there was only a single narrow path that barely allowed two feet. The path seemed to be suspended over an endless abyss that would scare the most daring.

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