Dual Cultivation God Returns-Chapter 973: Death Arena

The underground Death Arena of the Crow King’s Nest was massive, but quite simple in structure since all it required to build was hollowing out a vast and tall chamber for the fighting pit - allowing the fight to progress both on the ground and relatively high in the air - and reinforcing it both with physical shielding in form of giant metal plates and beams, and with Formations of varied types including but not limited to barrier-type formations.

Cut straight into the walls were tiers upon tiers of cave-terraces for the audience, along with, of course, the more privileged private booths, a few expensive in-arena restaurants and wine houses featuring seats with excellent view of the fighting pit, and the obligatory administrative floor where fighters signed up along with perhaps the more important area where bookmakers took bets on the fights, always full of degenerate gamblers, casual guests who bet for fun from time to time, and dreamers wishing to test their luck, or as the gamblers called it, "discerning eye to pick a winner".

Changsun Yong looked around nervously, involuntarily shuddering from the deafening roars of the rabidly excited crowds cheering or booing their chosen fighter.

He has been in arenas before, but none were like this.

It was a very different experience to the usual city arenas where cultivators fought for honor, or sport, or to resolve an argument, perhaps competition, or exchanging pointers, and where every death was a rare and unfortunate accident.

This place, however, reeked of death. Death was the entire purpose, the center of gravity, and every single one was cheered on with savage and vulgar glee. The very air was heavier, as if it absorbed the stench of spilled blood and death, the bloodlust, greed, and depravity of the tens of thousands of people cheering on the gruesome fights and deaths, day after day, for years.

He wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable, since the Disciples of the Lament Scripture Sect, and, to a lesser extent, even their Elder, were disoriented by the dark and brutal atmosphere of this place.

They were all waiting for the Feather Warrior and Dead Fish to arrange for the fight to take place after the current one or the next one ended, standing in two groups on the upper tier terrace which wasn’t as crowded.

Since they temporarily reached an agreement, Changsun Yong was allowed to join Wu Long’s group under the guarantee from the Crow King’s Nest that they would stop him should he try to escape.

There were also many spectators who saw their conflict outside, and followed them into the Death Arena to join the audience, curious to see the conclusion of the dispute.

The only one conspicuously absent here was Zhao Biren who went away on an errand from Wu Long.

"A-are you sure you want to do this?", Changsun Yong asked, no longer sure if he made the right choice, not only because he put his fate in the hands of this complete stranger, but also feeling responsible for dragging him into this mess - now this stranger who turned out to be in the same major cultivation realm as him, was going to risk, or rather almost certainly lose, his life against a Sect Elder in Essence Gathering Realm, "It’s not too late to call it off. I am very grateful to you, for everything. If anything, it is me who should fight, at least like that I-..."

For some reason, his concerned questioning prompted an amused giggle from the silver-masked beauty who never left the masked man’s side, and an odd look from the other beauty with white hair.

The masked man’s reaction, however, was the most surprising for the young man, as he spoke in an extremely good mood, "This actually worked out great"

And then, as he turned to Changsun Yong, seeing his puzzled gaze explained what he meant a bit more, "Currently, I am not allowed into the Inner Palace of the Crow King’s Nest - that big palace at the end of the marketplace that cuts into the mountainside - and the reason is that having money isn’t enough to be allowed inside, you’ve got to have enough reputation in the Crow King’s Nest or other black markets recognized by them. It’s quite common across black markets, but annoyingly enough I don’t have any black market tokens at the moment, so I can’t get in. Now then, there are several ways to earn reputation, but the quickest and most straightforward of them is this Death Arena"

Changsun Yong inwardly repeated Wu Long’s answer to himself several times, trying to make sure he heard him correctly, and then looked at him with wide open, bewildered eyes, "You’re going to fight to death with an Elder of a Sect... not a Disciple, an Elder!!!"

"I think you misunderstood", Hong Yue interjected, "What he said is that he doesn’t plan to only fight that Elder, he needs to rack up some more wins in this arena to get inside the Inner Palace, so he’ll likely fight a few people after as well"

This rather pedantic correction that focused on details rather than the premise didn’t address Changsun Yong’s concerns at all, rather, it made him question if there was some kind of breakdown in communication in between them.

"Hehe, after a couple fights, I doubt there’s going to be many who would want to challenge you Darling", Meanwhile Hong Ye was seemingly worried that he wouldn’t have enough opponents to gain enough reputation he needed.

"Hmm, it should be fine... most people should assume I exhausted a lot of Spiritual Qi from previous fights, no?", Wu Long touched his chin, currently mostly hidden by the mask, rubbing it in thought as he considered her concern.

Changsun Yong looked at the three of them with eyes that grew more and more bewildered, finally questioning if these people were actually sane.

It was at this point that Zhao Biren approached them. Behind him walked a rather thin man with shifty eyes, surrounded by four bodyguards, who, upon seeing Wu Long, asked "Is this the guy?"

Seeing Zhao Biren nod, the man produced a chest from his Spatial Ring, "Here you go, it’s about the best you can get in this place for the price you offered"

Wu Long crouched down, opening the chest lid to reveal three fist-sized spherical-shaped metallic artifacts with complex mechanical structures and patterns carved into them that reflected with cold metallic light in the eyes of the still completely disoriented Changsun Yong.

"Hearts of Iron?", the young man muttered questioning his own sanity now, "But you’re in the Mortal Transcendence Realm..."

Meanwhile, Wu Long put a hand on one of the Spiritual Treasures, and after confirming something, nodded with satisfaction, "Not bad"

He then looked at Zhao Biren with questioning gaze, and the latter showed him three fingers, to which Wu Long took out one of the many low-quality Spatial Rings he kept in his sleeve and put it against his own, transferring the required sum and tossing the spare to the black market merchant.

The latter confirmed, and mumbled something like "a pleasure doing business" along with some incoherent pleasantries that did not feel even remotely sincere as he was already busy suspiciously looking around and getting away from here as soon as possible.

Wu Long, on the other hand, collected the three artifacts that Changsun Yong called the Hearts of Iron, and stood up.

Not long after, Feather Warrior and Dead Fish showed up as well, announcing that their fight would be right after the current one was over. And as if it was deliberately scheduled, almost right after they spoke, the crowd roared in excitement so loud and chaotic that it was not possible to tell cheers and curses apart.

Then a voice amplified by Spiritual Qi that was commenting on the fight chimed in on the excitement, "What a spectacular fight, my Fellow Daoists, what a rollercoaster of emotions! While at multiple times it looked like the swordsman’s crafty and calculated precise attacks and mind games were going to win the fight, the victorious Ogre Blade Vagrant’s, relentless tenacity, overwhelming power and intense momentum managed to power through and win out even while sustaining injuries!

Wu Long, meanwhile was busy watching the corpse of the fallen cultivator on the ground of the fighting pit, an interested look flashing in his eyes along with complicated patterns.