Chapter 62: Match after Match (Part 1)

As the days turned into weeks and the matches piled up, life in the Hell Slaughter Arena became a relentless grind. It was a constant test of survival, and each night was a battle against unseen foes. The weight of it all pressed down on me, but I couldn't afford to falter.

My first few matches were relatively straightforward. The thrill of battle, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the raw killing intent I'd honed in the forest as a child all worked in my favor. Using my first martial soul, the Poison Devouring Spider Emperor, I overwhelmed most of my opponents with sheer ferocity and precision. Without the abilities of my soul rings, I was forced to rely on pure instinct and skill, which only sharpened my abilities further.

But it wasn't long before the battles started to grow more challenging. By the 20th match, the arena's veterans began to take notice of me. They recognized my growing reputation and adapted their strategies accordingly. No longer was I facing a disorganized mob of desperate killers. These were seasoned warriors, each with their own unique styles and lethal techniques.

I had to adapt quickly. The Eight Spider Lances became an invaluable asset. At first, I hesitated to reveal them, but as the matches grew fiercer, holding back was no longer an option. The moment I unleashed the Eight Spider Lances, the tide of battle shifted. Their toxic and corrosive poison turned even the smallest scratch into a death sentence for my enemies. And their ability to absorb spirit power? That was a game-changer. Every opponent I killed made me stronger, their spirit power flowing into me like a river and making me less exhausted after every match.

One particular match still stands out in my memory. It was my 40th fight, and I was up against a group of killers who had clearly decided to team up against me. When the battle started they all turned their weapons toward me. A broad-shouldered man with a war hammer charged first, followed by a lithe woman wielding twin daggers and a wiry youth with a chain whip.

I activated my martial soul transformation, my armor gleaming under the blood-red lights of the arena. The Eight Spider Lances unfurled from my back with a metallic hiss, their jagged tips dripping with venom. The crowd roared as the appendages moved with a life of their own, intercepting the whip's strikes and parrying the daggers with inhuman precision.

The hammer-wielding brute tried to use his raw strength to overpower me, but the Spider Lances were faster. One lance pierced his shoulder, the poison working almost instantly. His movements slowed, his swings growing sluggish as the venom took hold. I didn't give him a chance to recover. With a flick of my wrist, one of the lances plunged into his chest, ending his life.

The woman with the daggers was smarter. She tried to use her agility to get behind me, but the Spider Lances' independent movement made that impossible. As she lunged for my exposed back, one of the lances whipped around and struck her mid-air, sending her crashing to the ground. Before she could rise, another lance pierced her leg, and then her heart.

The youth with the whip was the last to fall. He managed to keep his distance longer than the others, his weapon striking at me from all angles. But he underestimated my patience. I let him wear himself out, dodging and parrying until his movements grew desperate. Then, with a burst of speed, I closed the distance, and my arm blade cut through his throat before he could react. When I looked at the rest of the participants I found out that they had already killed each other. Less work for me, I guess. 

By the time I walked out of the arena that night, the name "Asura" was beginning to circulate among the crowd. They whispered it with a mix of awe and fear, a testament to the carnage I left in my wake.

The nights, however, were an entirely different battle. Assassination attempts became a regular occurrence. More than once, I woke to the sound of a blade slicing through the air or the sight of a shadowy figure standing over me. When I was alert enough, I handled the intruders myself, my arm blades making quick work of them. But there were nights when exhaustion got the better of me, and it was the Dragon Slaying Saber that protected me. It acted on its own. I'd often wake to find corpses scattered around my room and the saber resting beside me like a loyal guardian.

By my 60th match, the difficulty had ramped up to a level that forced me to use almost every tool at my disposal. The Eight Spider Lances alone were no longer enough. I had to tap into the power of my skull bone. The mental attacks it provided proved invaluable against opponents who relied on cunning rather than brute force. Against weaker opponents, I could seize control of their minds, turning them against their allies. Against stronger ones, the skull bone's mental attacks were a devastating weapon, leaving them disoriented and vulnerable.

One such battle pitted me against a swordsman whose speed and precision were unmatched. He moved like a shadow, his blade striking with surgical accuracy. My Spider Lances struggled to keep up, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly challenged. But then I activated the skull bone's mental attack, a surge of psychic energy crashing into his mind. He stumbled, his movements faltering as he clutched his head in agony. That moment of weakness was all I needed. My blade found its objective, and the match was over.

By the time I reached my 70th battle, the cost of the arena was evident. My body ached with exhaustion, my mind weary from the constant strain. But the crowd's reaction made it clear that I was no longer just another participant. Some of them chanted my name, "Asura Emperor," their voices echoing through the blood-soaked arena. It was a title I neither sought nor cared for, but it was a testament to the fear and respect I'd earned. Besides I was a little proud of the fact the it was "Emperor" and not "King" like Tang San. Everybody knows an emperor is better than a king.

As I sat in my room that night, the Dragon Slaying Saber resting at my side, I couldn't help but reflect on how far I'd come. My spirit power had grown, I was already at rank 70. It had been a long, brutal year, but every drop of blood spilled and every life taken had been worth it.