The crowd's murmurs swelled again, a mix of pity and morbid curiosity.
The legendary, hilarious chef of Class 9 was about to step into the ring with the most brutal, terrifying rogue cultivator in the tournament.
Ji'an took a deep breath as her boot touched the first black stone step.
'Time to see if the customer service voice works in a death match,' she thought, marching up into the arena to face the Demon Lord.
The black spirit-stone steps leading up to Ring One felt heavier than they looked.
Lin Ji'an ascended slowly, her Black Iron Spatula gripped loosely in her right hand. The deafening roar of the spectator stands had faded into a low, buzzing hum in her ears, completely drowned out by the frantic, hammering rhythm of her own heart.
Across the elevated arena, Yan Lie was waiting.
The Blood Sovereign did not look like a disciple participating in a friendly sect tournament. He looked like an apex predator lounging in a cage he could break out of at any moment.
