Chapter 317: Intellectual Brain Steals Secrets! Blood-Colored Martial Arts Arena! The Terror of the Blood God

Chapter 317: Intellectual Brain Espionage! The Bloody Arena! The Blood God’s Dreadful Scheme! Human Anxiety!

Those once-lofty powerhouses, whose very words could decree the life or death of a civilization, have been consumed and melted like divine gold cast into a furnace during this century of slaughter.

Incomplete statistics suggest that in these hundred years, the combined number of fallen Marquis-level powerhouses has exceeded three digits, while several King-level entities have bled out across the firmament, their origins and Dao fruits utterly devoured by this chaotic battlefield.

As for the Domain-level and Black Hole-level armies, they have fallen like wheat before a scythe, harvest after harvest.

Their bones, their souls, their grievances and regrets, have all transformed into the foundational nourishment of this battlefield, rendering the madness and chaos here ever more potent.

That insane will originating from the Chaos, known as "Khorne," has clung like a maggot to the bone, deeply eroding the souls of every living creature throughout this century.

At first, it merely amplified the killing intent and brutality within the warriors' hearts.

Gradually, it began to twist their reason, turning them bloodthirsty and bellicose, addicted to the pleasure of pure slaughter.

By now, many powerhouses with fragile Dao hearts have completely devolved into madmen who know only how to kill.

Their consciousness submerged by the whispers of Chaos, they can no longer distinguish friend from foe; any living being triggers their most frenzied desire to attack.

More than once, legions of the Myriad Races, after breaking through the human defensive lines, have suddenly turned their weapons to launch a bloody massacre against their own allies behind them.

Likewise, within the human camp, there have been tragedies where powerhouses whose Dao hearts faltered attacked their own comrades in arms before their strength gave out.

The laughter of Khorne seems to pierce through dimensions, echoing in the deepest recesses of everyone's soul.

He is so delighted, so satisfied.

This war is no longer a holy crusade fought by humans and the Myriad Races for the future of their species, but has evolved into a grand, magnificent blood sacrifice to please the Chaos God!

And the offerings are every living soul upon this battlefield!

Finally, after a heaven-shaking collision, the mutation occurred.

"BOOM—!!!"

The Human Void-Splitting Emperor, a supreme sovereign who controls the laws of space and is renowned for his elusive movements and decisive lethality, saw his Space God Blade clash once more with the Annihilation Demon Blade of a Myriad Race Demon Emperor wreathed in hellish flames.

This collision was more violent than any that had come before.

Billions of miles of void shattered like a fragile mirror, revealing the heart-stopping, pure "Nothingness" behind it.

A terrifying psionic storm transformed into a visible ring of destruction, sweeping out in all directions; everything in its path—be it stellar debris, law-born monsters, or soldiers from either side who failed to dodge—was evaporated in an instant, leaving not even a trace behind.

Yet, after this destructive impact, the expected, even more frenzied round of attacks did not follow.

The figure of the Void-Splitting Emperor slowly emerged billions of miles away; he held his divine blade, his aura somewhat disordered, but for the first time, his gaze shifted from his opponent to the battlefield below, which had long since turned into a purgatory on earth.

He saw his subordinates, eyes blood-red, acting like maddened demons.

He saw those once-spirited Kings and Marquises now tearing at each other like beasts.

He saw this void, thoroughly soaked in blood and hatred, and felt that pure, insane will lurking here—a presence that made even a Sovereign-level entity like himself feel a tremor of dread.

A fear more profound and primal than racial hatred or the outcome of war crawled silently into his heart like a cold viper.

At the same time, on the other side of the battlefield, that towering Demon Emperor also ceased his movements.

His eyes, burning with hellfire, swept across the entire battlefield; the madness and brutality in them faded rapidly, replaced by an unprecedented gravity and wariness.

Two arch-enemies from opposing camps, who had been locked in slaughter for a hundred years, looked at each other across the shattered galaxy at this moment.

They did not speak, yet they understood each other's thoughts through their eyes.

We cannot keep fighting!

This was not only the consensus of these two top sovereigns, but also that of every top powerhouse who had managed to retain a shred of clarity in this century-long bloodbath.

They suddenly realized that the root of this war—the batch of [Cosmic Crystals] capable of altering the structure of the universe—had been taken away by the Master of Limits a century ago.

And the fuse that ignited this war—the human prodigy Qin Feng, who pioneered the "God's Path"—had long since vanished, his life or death unknown.

The core objectives of the war had all disappeared.

What, then, were they still fighting for?

For the glory of their race?

To annihilate their arch-enemies?

No!

Neither!

If this continues, they will no longer be fighting for the future of humanity or the Myriad Races.

They, and all the warriors under their command, will become the favorite offerings of that Evil God sitting upon the Throne of Skulls!

Every drop of blood shed, every wail emitted, will turn into a hymn to please that Evil God!

When war itself transcends the purpose of war, then this war loses all meaning, leaving only pure destruction and madness.

A strange, tacit understanding quietly formed in the hearts of the high-level leaders on both sides.

The Demon Emperor took a deep look at the Void-Splitting Emperor and slowly sheathed his Annihilation Demon Blade.

Immediately, a divine thought containing supreme will spread throughout the entire Myriad Race army.

"Retreat."

A simple, yet incredibly heavy word.

The Myriad Race army, currently locked in frenzied slaughter, saw those soldiers who still retained their sanity feel as if they had been granted amnesty, and they began to withdraw slowly.

As for those soldiers who had gone completely mad, they were forcibly sealed by their companions and dragged away from this ominous place.

The human camp did not pursue.

The Void-Splitting Emperor also waved his hand, signaling the human army to contract their defensive lines and rest on the spot.

A monumental war that had swept across the entire cosmic frontier, lasted for a full hundred years, caused countless powerhouses to fall, and dimmed the radiance of the galaxy.

Just like that, in a near-absurd, silent consensus, it came to a blood-stained full stop.

...

In a region of human cosmic territory with absolutely secret coordinates, far from that bloody battlefield, a gargantuan cosmic city hung silently.

This cosmic city was cast entirely from an unknown metal shimmering with a dark gold luster, inscribed with billions of intricate array patterns, each one breathing in cosmic psionic energy and exuding an aura of immortality.

It was like an ancient beast dormant in the depths of the star sea, silent and majestic, suppressing the peace of this star sector.

This was one of the countless outposts directly under the Human Holy Academy, codenamed "Zhenyuan."

Any outpost under the direct jurisdiction of the Holy Academy was a vital strategic node in human territory; its defenses were so solid that it could withstand the joint siege of several sovereigns without falling, truly as impregnable as a fortress.

At this moment, in the highest council chamber of the "Zhenyuan" cosmic city, the atmosphere was as heavy as water, so oppressive that it felt as if time and space had frozen.

In the center of the chamber sat a massive round table carved from a single piece of "Void God Crystal," and around it sat several figures.

They had not descended in their true forms, but as avatars condensed through supreme divine arts; yet even as avatars, the aura they exuded was enough to make any King-level powerhouse tremble, as if their own Dao would collapse in their presence.

With hair standing on end and an aura like an abyss, resembling a humanoid black hole, was the Heaven-Swallowing King.

The century of blood war had made his aura more refined, but also added a trace of undisguised exhaustion and murderous intent.

Surrounded by the laws of space, with tiny spatial rifts flickering in and out of existence beside him, was the Void-Splitting Emperor, who had just withdrawn from the battlefield.

His avatar's light was dim, clearly having suffered significant injuries in the recent battle.

Beyond these, there stood several other titans of the human race, figures whose names commanded awe and terror across the stars.

They were the true pillars of humanity, the supreme beings who held the heavens and earth in balance.

Yet, in this moment, these giants—who usually kept their emotions veiled behind masks of stone—wore expressions of profound and unshakable gravity.

Within the council chamber, a deathly silence reigned.

Suddenly, a voice, vast, majestic, and devoid of any human warmth, resonated through the void without warning.

It did not travel through the air; rather, it echoed directly within the deepest reaches of each titan’s soul, vibrating against the very origins of their Dao.

"Qin Feng has been pursued by the Blood-Slaughter Marquis and has strayed into the 'Blood-Colored Arena'."

It was the Lord of Extremes!

The owner of this voice was one of the three great pillars of humanity, that mysterious and supreme existence who governed the ultimate martial path of the human race!

A single sentence, yet it struck like a divine hammer forged of absolute power, slamming into the hearts of all present and causing their very foundations of Dao to tremble violently!

"The Blood-Colored Arena?!"

A Sovereign, whose aura was as cold as ten thousand years of glacial ice, gasped in disbelief, his voice thick with incredulity.

The Heaven-Swallowing King’s clenched fists cracked as his knuckles ground together, and the terrifying, black-hole-like aura surrounding him flickered with instability.

The Lord of Extremes ignored their shock, continuing in that same flat, emotionless tone to reveal a truth far more cruel and chilling.

"We have all been deceived."

"The true target of Khorne was never this war, which has engulfed millions of armies and raged for a century. To him, that conflict was perhaps merely an appetizer, a grand sacrifice of flesh and blood."

"His true purpose was to use the endless carnage and slaughter generated by this war—sufficient to shroud the very heavens—as the perfect catalyst and veil to lay this trap."

"A trap designed specifically to lure his most 'admired' warrior—Qin Feng—into his game of slaughter."

Boom!

Every word from the Lord of Extremes was like a bolt of celestial lightning, detonating within their minds!

All previous doubts and confusion were suddenly, blindingly illuminated!

No wonder!

Even though the myriad races had lost the chance to seize the [Cosmic Crystal], they had continued to escalate the war regardless of the cost!

No wonder even those Sovereigns who had lived for countless eons and long viewed life and death with indifference had been driven to such irrational, bloodthirsty madness!

No wonder the will of Khorne had eroded the entire battlefield so easily, as if everything were proceeding according to a natural order!

It turned out that from beginning to end, this was all a trap!

A heaven-shaking death trap set by a Chaos God himself, aimed solely at Qin Feng!

"So that is it..."

The Heaven-Swallowing King’s low voice suppressed a rage like a volcano on the verge of eruption, each word enunciated with agonizing precision. "What a Chaos God! What... what a deep and treacherous scheme!"

Within his eyes, black holes seemed to form and collapse, consuming all light.

Thinking of his most prized disciple trapped in a desperate plight, and realizing that he—and indeed the entire human leadership—had unwittingly acted as "accomplices" in the God’s grand design, a surge of unspeakable fury and self-reproach threatened to incinerate his reason.

"We have all been reduced to his pawns..."

The Void-Splitting Emperor spoke with bitterness, the space-time laws around him fluctuating violently, betraying his inner turmoil. "We bleed and sacrifice here, fighting the myriad races to the death, only to find... we were merely creating a perfect 'hunting ground' for a dark god?"

This realization brought a sense of unprecedented humiliation to the proud Sovereigns present.

What manner of beings were they?

They were titans standing at the pinnacle of the universe, looking down upon all life, holding the fates of billions in their hands!

Yet now, to be toyed with by a Chaos God—this was harder to accept than total defeat.

"Lord of Extremes,"

A Sovereign, well-versed in ancient secrets and possessing an aura of profound antiquity, asked with a heavy, solemn face. "Ancient texts contain only sparse records of the 'Blood-Colored Arena,' calling it the 'Meat Grinder of Gods and Demons' and the 'Birthplace of Champions.' Might I ask, what kind of place is it truly?"

Every gaze in the chamber turned toward the void, awaiting the answer. A sense of dire foreboding gripped them all.

The Lord of Extremes fell silent for a moment, as if gathering his words, before he spoke slowly:

"You are correct. The Blood-Colored Arena is said to be a sub-dimension created by Khorne at the dawn of time, specifically to select his most powerful champion from the infinite lifeforms of the universe."

"It has no fixed form, nor fixed coordinates. Like a phantom, it appears randomly where the aura of slaughter is thickest and the toll of death is highest. War is its most fertile soil."

"Its rules are cruel to the extreme, yet simple to the point of absurdity. All who are drawn into it, regardless of race, cultivation, or status, have but one mission—to slaughter every living thing they see."

"There, there is no surrender, no escape; there is only battle and death."

"Until... only one remains standing upon that blood-soaked earth."

"Only that sole survivor earns the right to leave."

The explanation from the Lord of Extremes caused the temperature in the chamber to plummet to freezing.

The sole survivor!

This meant that between Qin Feng and the Blood-Slaughter Marquis, one of them was destined to remain there forever!

"That is not the most terrifying part,"

The Sovereign versed in ancient secrets added, his face turning deathly pale as if recalling a nightmare. "Ancient texts once speculated that everything belonging to those who perish in the arena—their flesh, their souls, the laws they mastered, and even the intense resentment and unwillingness they felt at the moment of death—is consumed and absorbed by that strange land, becoming fuel for its growth."

"When an arena, over an incalculable span of time, has devoured enough powerful beings, the internal laws of slaughter derived from Khorne eventually 'satiate' and settle, gradually dissipating."

"And that land, nourished by the blood and souls of countless warriors for eons, eventually detaches from the sub-dimension and falls into the reality of our universe. That is what we have come to know as the 'Blood-Colored Forbidden Zone'."

"The forbidden zone we sent Qin Feng into, hoping to grant him an opportunity, was, in essence, a 'dead' ancient arena where the rules had long since faded!"

These words struck like black lightning, shattering the fog of ignorance!

Everyone understood in an instant.

If the Blood-Colored Forbidden Zone was a "ruin" filled with treasures, then the arena Qin Feng now occupied was a living, breathing "hunting ground" currently in the midst of a feast, teeming with infinite peril!

As the truth was peeled back layer by layer, the atmosphere in the chamber became suffocating.

Every heart sank into the abyss.

Their gazes seemed to pierce through infinite dimensions, converging upon that unknown, mysterious continent shrouded in a barrier of endless crimson.

Worry, like an boundless darkness, enveloped the hearts of every human titan.

"Qin Feng... can he survive?"

After a long silence, the Void-Splitting Emperor spoke first, his voice heavy with deep anxiety.

"The Blood-Slaughter Marquis... I have studied this man."

"He has been steeped in the Marquis-rank for over thirty million years; his foundations are far deeper than any ordinary Marquis. He practices the 'Nine-Slaughter Sutra,' which is said to have reached the perfection of the ninth level. He is a veteran, mid-level Marquis of long-standing fame!"

"And Qin Feng..."

The Void-Splitting Emperor paused, his tone growing heavier still. "Though he is a peerless genius, one in an eternity, having forged his own divine path and possessing the world-shaking power to step into the 'Divine Forbidden' realm..."

"He is, after all, still only a Domain Lord—and one who has broken through for less than thirty thousand years at that!"

"Moreover, this is no friendly sparring match. This is a battle of life and death, a struggle where only one can remain!"

The words of the Void-Splitting Emperor voiced the deepest fear held by everyone present.

The Heaven-Swallowing King gripped his fists so tightly that his knuckles cracked with a sharp, rhythmic sound.

He sat in silence, offering not a single word.

He possessed a near-blind, absolute faith in his disciple.

Since Qin Feng first stepped onto the path, he had wrought miracle after miracle, shattering countless established truths.

Yet, in this moment, even he dared not make a rash assertion.

For he knew better than anyone that raw talent is not synonymous with absolute combat power.

Especially in a death match where only one can survive, the nuances of experience, the mastery of secret arts, the depth of one’s hidden cards, and—most crucially—the fortitude of one’s spirit, could determine the final outcome.

And his opponent, the Blood-Butcher Marquis, was a terrifying entity who had grown through endless slaughter, possessing no discernable weaknesses.

Seeing the King’s rare silence, the atmosphere in the council hall grew even more suffocating. Just then, another silent Sovereign spoke, his voice dry and rasping as he posed a question far more lethal and despairing.

"Even if... let us assume... Qin Feng creates yet another unprecedented miracle, and as a mere Domain Lord, he defies the heavens to slay the Blood-Butcher Marquis..."

"Then, can he... withstand the seduction of the Blood God?"

As the question fell, the entire hall plunged into a silence so profound one could hear a pin drop.

A deep, unconcealable terror flickered across the faces of every titan present.

"Indeed..."

The Sovereign, a master of ancient lore, nodded slowly, his voice as low as the pronouncement of an immutable fate. "The final trial of the Blood-Stained Arena has never been about defeating your opponent."

"It is about defeating yourself."

"When the sole victor, having endured the ultimate slaughter and bathed in the blood of his foe, finds his will, his battle-intent, and his killing desire pushed to an unprecedented peak... the will of Khorne descends in person."

"It is not a simple temptation; it is the direct whisper of a Chaos God, an ancient deity who holds the primordial essence of 'Slaughter' and 'War'."

"That seduction strikes directly at the soul's origin and the core of the Great Dao."

"He will grant you greater power, promise you eternal war, and elevate you to be his proxy in the material universe—his Champion!"

"According to the fragmented records of history, no being who has ever walked out of the Blood-Stained Arena has been able to refuse this 'gift'."

The words fell like a basin of freezing, abyssal water, chilling everyone to the bone.

The desperate conclusion was laid bare before them.

It meant that Qin Feng was trapped in an inescapable dead end.

If he loses, he dies, and all hope vanishes.

If he wins, there is a near-certainty he will fall as a servant of the Chaos God, becoming a Champion of Khorne.

For history shows that no one has ever rejected the seduction of Khorne after the Arena.

...

A Champion of Khorne with the potential for the "Path of God"!

The thought sent a shiver of dread through every human titan present.

Such an existence, to the human race, might be a greater threat than even an alien Lord of the Universe.

He would become the greatest internal scourge of humanity's future.

"He is a hero of our people, the hope of our future..."

The Heaven-Swallowing King finally spoke, his voice murmuring with an unprecedented sense of exhaustion and helplessness.

Once, he had believed that by becoming a Sovereign, he had reached the pinnacle of the universe, enough to shield his disciple.

Yet reality told him again and again that in this vast and cruel cosmos, he remained insignificant.

Before the machinations of a Chaos God, even a Sovereign was powerless.

Even the Lords of the Universe were powerless.

These supreme beings, who stood at the summit of existence and could shake the stars with a word, were reduced to mere mortals, sitting here as helpless spectators.

They could only watch as the young man they had exhausted the entire race’s strength to protect—the vessel of humanity’s boundless future—was locked inside a blood-stained cage forged by a god, a cage named "Destiny."

Whether he lives or dies, whether he stands firm or falls.

Everything now rests solely upon Qin Feng.

His future was completely shrouded in a thick, impenetrable, blood-red mist called "Khorne."

The human masters present hoped more than anyone that Qin Feng would survive.

Yet they feared more than anyone that he would.

For to survive meant that Qin Feng had become a Champion of Khorne.

This contradictory and agonizing emotion tortured every titan in the room.

The council hall sank once more into a deathly, suffocating silence.

...

Above the blood-stained continent, silence was the only melody.

There were no suns, moons, or stars, no vital energy of heaven and earth—only the eternal, dark-red light curtain above, resembling congealed blood, and the air thick with the stench of rust and madness.

There was no probing, no wasted words.

The moment the gazes of Qin Feng and the Blood-Butcher Marquis collided, the death match, destined to leave only one survivor, erupted!

"Little beast, pay for the life of the Medicine Elder!"

The Blood-Butcher Marquis let out a roar that sounded less than human, a venomous hatred and killing intent, pent up for thousands of years, erupting like a volcano.

His withered body shuddered, and the void behind him was instantly stained with blood, transforming into a terrifying vision of a mountain of corpses and a sea of gore!

The remains of billions of beings floated in that sea, their endless wails and curses crossing the barriers of space and time, turning into a malicious psychic assault meant to tear Qin Feng’s soul to shreds!

BOOM!!!

The Blood-Butcher Marquis moved, his form merging with the sea of blood, transforming into a blood-red Asura crawling from the depths of hell, charging straight at Qin Feng with overwhelming malice!

The blood-stained blade in his hand seemed to come alive, strange crimson patterns glowing upon it, emitting a hungry hum as if to devour the spirits of all living things!

Facing a scene that would shatter the mind of an ordinary Marquis-level expert, Qin Feng’s eyes remained as calm as an ancient well.

Deep within his pure black pupils, there was no fear or hesitation, only absolute coldness and reason, as if this peerless demon were no different from a pebble on the roadside.

Qin Feng did not dodge, nor did he retreat!

"Fight!"

A low shout escaped his lips, a single word that seemed to contain the supreme power of creation, instantly shattering the billions of demonic echoes from the sea of blood!

In an instant, a terrifying aura, indescribable in words, erupted from within Qin Feng!

HUM—!

A ring of brilliant, white-gold light, like the first ray of divine radiance at the dawn of the universe, swept outward from him in all directions!

Wherever the light passed, the vision of the corpse-mountain and blood-sea hissed, as if snow meeting a scorching sun, rapidly being purified and dissolved!

[Ultimate Form]!

At this moment, Qin Feng drove his Dao, his Law, and his very essence to the absolute limit!

Like an ancient God-King awakened from a slumber, he strode across the shattering void and, facing the blood-red stream of light, struck out with his fist!

Simple, yet brutal!

There was no profound law, no exquisite technique, no intricate trajectory in this punch; there was only power—power refined to its ultimate, absolute state! It was the force capable of collapsing stars, rending the firmament, and suppressing all Daos!

This was his path—the Path of the Ultimate!

BOOM!!!!!!

Fist and blade, platinum and crimson, God-King and Asura collided in the most primitive and savage fashion upon this desolate, blood-stained continent!

A visible ring of destruction erupted from the point of impact, expanding wildly in all directions!

The ground beneath them, harder than divine iron, proved as fragile as paper before this force; it was instantly upheaved, torn asunder, and pulverized into a sky full of dust!

The terrifying shockwave, mingled with shards of shattered space, surged toward the heavens and slammed into the blood-colored canopy, causing the entire [Blood Arena] to tremble violently!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Under the horrific recoil, the Blood-Butcher Marquis was forced back a hundred paces, each step leaving a bottomless crater in the earth.

His right arm, which gripped the blade, went numb; his internal energy churned violently, his organs felt displaced, and a sweetness rose in his throat as a trickle of blood spilled from his lips.

His eyes were filled with incredulous horror!

"How is this possible?! A mere Domain Lord... possessing such bestial strength?!"

He could not comprehend it!

He was a middle-tier Marquis who had made his name over tens of millions of years, a member of the demon race with an innately formidable physique; in terms of raw power, he dared to challenge even high-tier Marquises!

Yet, this brat, who had ascended to Domain Lord only a few tens of thousands of years ago, could stand toe-to-toe with him without losing ground?!

Was a being who walked the Path of the Gods truly such a monster?!

However, Qin Feng gave him no respite.

After the first strike, he moved like lightning, closing the distance to deliver another blow!

It remained just as unadorned, just as overwhelmingly tyrannical!

"Hmph! Little beast, do not be arrogant!"

The Blood-Butcher Marquis was a veteran of countless battles; after the initial shock, he immediately regained his composure.

He sneered, a glint of cruelty flashing in his eyes.

"What of a strong physique? Today, I shall show you the true majesty of a Marquis!"

"The Nine-Kill Sutra, First Layer!"

"Double the amplification!"

With a roar, the spiritual energy within the Blood-Butcher Marquis began to circulate in a strange and arcane manner, and his aura surged violently in an instant!

Hum!

The blood-red blade in his hand emitted a shrill, piercing whine; a crimson light flared, and a ten-thousand-foot-long blade of energy, carrying the terrifying momentum to cleave the heavens, tore through the void and descended upon Qin Feng!

This strike was on a completely different level of power and murderous intent than the last!

Facing this surging onslaught, a hint of gravity finally flickered in Qin Feng’s pure black eyes.

He could clearly feel that this strike posed a genuine threat to his indestructible [Ultimate Form].

But he did not retreat.

The Path of the Ultimate knows only advancement, never retreat!

The [Primordial Furnace Array] within him spun frantically, pumping the massive reserves of spiritual energy into every fiber of his being, making the platinum halo of his [Ultimate Form] shine as brilliantly as a burning star!

"Open!"

Qin Feng crossed his arms like an immortal shield, forcibly bracing against the crimson blade!

CLANG!!!!!!

The sound of metal clashing rang out, deafening and echoing to the heavens!

Qin Feng’s figure was hammered deep into the earth by the immense force, leaving behind a bottomless, human-shaped pit!

"Hahaha! Little beast, come again!"

Having landed a hit, the Blood-Butcher Marquis went mad with fervor, his blade transforming into streaks of crimson lightning as he rained down a relentless barrage of strikes upon Qin Feng!

"Second Kill!"

"Third Kill!"

His aura climbed steadily, each strike more violent and lethal than the last!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

For a time, the entire blood-red continent was filled with nothing but the flash of blades.

The land was cleaved, torn, and pulverized again and again under the Blood-Butcher Marquis’s tempestuous assault.

Yet, Qin Feng, at the center of the storm, was like a small boat in a gale—seemingly on the verge of capsizing, but never sinking.

Relying on the monstrous defensive and regenerative capabilities of his [Ultimate Form], combined with the near-infinite spiritual energy provided by his [Primordial Furnace Array], he endured wave after wave of the Marquis’s onslaught.

Every time the blade struck, a deep wound was carved into his [Ultimate Form], where platinum divine radiance and crimson killing intent clashed and annihilated one another.

But within seconds of being wounded, the flesh would heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.

This style of combat was stifling to the extreme!

Though Qin Feng’s attacks were powerful, they posed no lethal threat to the Blood-Butcher Marquis once the [Nine-Kill Sutra] was active.

Any attempt to strike back only invited more violent counter-attacks due to the momentary openings it created.

However, beneath this seemingly desperate and passive defense, deep within the calm, black depths of Qin Feng’s soul, a vast and secret project of "stealing the Dao" was quietly underway.

Within his sea of consciousness, the ten thousand "intelligent souls" created by the [Intelligent Devouring Secret Technique] were operating at an unprecedented speed.

Like ten thousand precision analytical instruments, they processed everything through Qin Feng’s five senses, his soul perception, and the minute feedback generated when his [Ultimate Form] collided with the enemy’s energy.

Every frequency of spiritual fluctuation, every trajectory of energy circulation, every structural pattern of the law runes, and even the unique rhythm of the soul resonating with the flesh—all of it was being recorded, dismantled, and analyzed as massive data!

This blood-red arena isolated all outside help and all variables.

For Qin Feng, this was no dead end!

He was using his one-of-a-kind [Ultimate Form] as bait and a laboratory, providing these "intelligent souls" with the most primitive, authentic, and precious experimental data!

His goal was not merely to defeat the Blood-Butcher Marquis.

He intended to steal his secret technique!

...

Time lost all meaning on this blood-red continent of slaughter.

One year, ten years, a hundred years...

In the blink of an eye, a millennium had passed.

Across a span of time long enough for a mortal dynasty to rise and fall a dozen times over, the battle between Qin Feng and the Blood-Butcher Marquis had never once ceased.

The rhythm of the struggle remained virtually unchanged.

It was still the Marquis who pressed the assault, while Qin Feng held the line.

The Marquis’s blade grew swifter and more vicious, pushing the power of the Nine-Kill Sutra to its absolute zenith, unleashing a relentless torrent of his most lethal, hidden techniques.

Blade-light surged like an ocean, blood-shadows eclipsed the heavens; he seemed to have become the very font of slaughter, intent on burying this world beneath his wrath.

Yet Qin Feng remained like a reef, ancient and unyielding, weathering the storm with an unshakable stillness.

A thousand years of blood-soaked combat had granted him a masterful command over his Ultimate Body.

His defense was no longer a mere brute resistance; in every parry, he wove the subtle arts of force-deflection, energy-redirection, and resonant counter-shock.

His body had transformed into the most perfect of weapons, every muscle and bone vibrating with the profound rhythm of the Dao.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

The Marquis’s heart was choked with an endless, frantic fury.

A full thousand years!

He could not bring down a mere Domain Lord!

His opponent was like an immortal monster; no matter how savagely he attacked, no matter how many hideous wounds he carved into that flesh, the man would rise again, vibrant and whole, staring back with eyes so calm they drove him to the brink of madness.

That gaze did not look upon a mortal enemy; it looked upon a jester performing a desperate act.

The sensation made the Blood-Butcher Marquis want to scream.

Little beast, let us see how much longer you can endure!

The Marquis roared, pushing the Nine-Kill Sutra to its ultimate threshold.

Nine times the strength, amplified!

A single strike cleaved the air, the blade-glow manifesting as a crimson river spanning the heavens, roaring and surging as if to drown Qin Feng in blood.

Qin Feng maintained his unchanging posture, meeting the blow head-on with both fists.

Yet, this time, in the deepest recesses of his eyes, a flicker of light—unnoticed by any—flashed and vanished.

First phase of data collection complete.

Preliminary model of the first three layers of the Nine-Kill Sutra successfully constructed.

Commencing second phase... extreme pressure and data completion.

Within his sea of consciousness, ten thousand intelligent souls issued the same cold, emotionless command in unison.

The battle raged on.

And in this game of hunter and prey, the true predator had already quietly changed.

Once Qin Feng had stolen the secrets of the Nine-Kill Sutra, the Blood-Butcher Marquis would surely perish.

...

Another three thousand years drifted by.

Adding the previous millennium, four thousand years of time had slipped away in silence upon this blood-stained continent.

If a third party were to witness this place now, they would never recognize the original landscape.

The once vast, crimson expanse had been shattered into ruin.

Countless massive tectonic plates drifted like asteroid fields in the void, suspended in a sea of blood, separated by bottomless rifts filled with violent, roiling spiritual energy.

The entire Blood-Arena seemed to groan in agony under the weight of these two gods of slaughter and their ten-thousand-year war.