Chapter 6: The Black Iron Chapter (Beginning) Trapped in Hell

At the time of noticing, everything has been taken away.

Joy, pain, sorrow, fear, home, friends, loved ones - everything is lost.

The only thing left was full of anger. The urge to spoil everything.

Nothing matters anymore, living is just living.

Desperately, every day to live in order to die.

That's, how unbearable?

In the midst of his nightmare, the great god Kama (Seat of Destiny) appeared before the eyes of young Arthur.

God does not move, God is speechless.

God has eight billion arms, each of which holds an incomparably sharp blade that can instantly cut human flesh into powder, and the flames on each blade carry a hundred million degrees of heat, which can instantly burn a human soul into ashes.

God looks down on all beings, and God is cold and arrogant.

God is hundreds of feet tall, and He can grow infinitely taller and bigger. One finger is enough to shatter a person a thousand times, and one breath is enough to blow a person thousands of miles away.

Standing before God, Arthur was as weak as an ant.

God swung his arm, and a sword fell, and Arthur rolled and dodged. He was blown dozens of yards away by the storm of photons raised by the giant blade.

The god swung his other arm, and swept across with a sword. Arthur leaped into the air, the blade swept under his feet, the heat of the flames nearly scorching him.

The god waved eight billion arms at the same time, and the blade of the sword rained down, and the fire on the blade was even more overwhelming.

The boy rolls, dodges, and runs frantically, surviving in the cracks of the rain of swords. His speed is as fast as lightning, and his body is as agile as a butterfly. Dancing between the rain of swords, moving down the storm of death, as if he had fought like this billions of times.

The heat of the flames could not scorch him, nor could the razor-sharp blade scare him, and the only thing he could do at the moment was the fortitude that came from the depths of his soul.

However, people are people after all.

No matter how strong we become, humanity will always be weak. No matter how strong they become, human beings are no match for God.

Not to mention that without the means of confrontation, it is impossible to even continuously dodge the attacks of the gods.

His battle lasted only a few tens of seconds, but it was as long as a century. After dodging tens of thousands of attacks, a small mistake by the teenager made the challenge come to naught.

The blade smashed his arm and broke his leg, and he lost his mobility, eventually smashing his body.

So, once again, God swung his great blade and put an end to it.

After the flames have passed, there is not a single ember left. Even the boy's soul was burned to the point of disappearing.

His challenge failed again. His [Spirit] is reincarnated again in the universe - until he comes to God again.

How many times are you going to challenge, stupid human?

It's good that you, a small, weak, ignorant, and ignorant person, have been struggling at the bottom of Shijie!

Don't you understand that it's all in vain?

When he woke up in the morning, Arthur found himself on board. His body was still aching from yesterday's battle, and the rocking of the ship made him feel the urge to vomit.

"Huh?" he felt his hands tied behind his back, and he felt that something was wrong.

"Oh, wake up?" said the masked man rowing a boat nearby, "Do you know what situation you're in right now?" Young Arthur asked feebly, squirming and sitting up against the hull of the boat, trying to see his surroundings clearly.

The fog is thick, and small wooden boats sail on the surface of the sea (lake?). The water was as calm as a mirror, except for the faint waves raised by the boats. Arthur felt only the cold around him, but not the dampness of the fog. He had a sense of detachment from reality, [distortion].

The masked man was covered in a black robe and a black cloth bag, and his tall figure looked like an executioner, and a bit like a human trafficker.

While Arthur was observing the masked man, the other party was also observing the young man's face. He looked at it for a while before he said slowly, "Hmph, the kid is quite calm." Don't you know that you have been sold by your master?" "It's really Richard's style, and what you can't get is ruined. Arthur feigned indifference, but he couldn't hide the anger in his heart. The knight bought back the boy who had been a slave, and now he had to sell the boy somewhere else.

Arthur's life was destined to be ill-fated, and after one disaster was over, he would be involved in another disaster in an instant.

What a [wonderful] life.

"Even if you are a slave redeemed by the Knights' welfare system, it does not mean that you can disobey your master casually. The masked man smiled siniestly, "It is better to persuade you to be one of your master's dogs next time." But I'm afraid you won't have this [next time]. "You don't mean to kill me, do you? Even if you kill a small character like me, it doesn't make any sense at all. Arthur asked tentatively.

He tried to break free from the rope that bound him, but in vain. The rope was tied very professionally, and there was not even a little room for the hands to move.

A hideous laugh came from under the masked man's mask. He had seen through Arthur's little tricks of distraction, and now he only mocked the boy with the victor's sinister smile: "Kill you? no—but you won't live long." Those who can come out of the arena alive can be counted on ten fingers. "The arena?" "Ah, it's here. The masked man spoke, and the fog around him slowly dissipated, and the secret realm came into the eyes of the young man.

Ominous islands of craggy rocks rise above the sea, like claws stretching out into the sky.

A huge building towers over an isolated island. It was dilapidated and lifeless, and the walls were filled with an eerie green atmosphere. The solemn scene seems to hide the gloom of death.

There is no reason why such an island, such a huge building, has been hidden in the world for no reason. Arthur instantly understood that the smoke was a work of magic, and that only when the ship got close enough would the smoke clear and the building appear in front of visitors.

"Is it necessary to go to such great lengths to conceal a building?" Arthur asked.

"Huh, the kid knows quite a bit. But you probably don't know this, do you? The magic of stealth here is natural, and has been around since eons ago. This is the viewing platform of the gods, a place where they watch humans fight each other for fun. This is the arena of death [Langridoa], the bloody hell of gladiators. "So that's no wonder it smells of blood. Arthur muttered softly.

The masked man had already covered Arthur's face with a handkerchief with Ecstasy, and the boy did not struggle, nor could he struggle. Gradually, he lost consciousness.

In a state of confusion, Arthur vaguely understands the fate he is about to face.