Silence filled everything, then that voice exploded inside Ashen's mind. It was the voice of the Heavenly Dao itself. It didn't come from anywhere, yet it surrounded all existence.
"You who sold your soul to regret and torment, you who chose the path of ruin and blood."
"The final trial is on the horizon. Either you survive to fight and devour, or you vanish into the endless river of blood."
"Prepare yourself, the one erased from Heaven's records. Is it your ability, or your destiny?"
"The first stage — to prove you are worthy of controlling the beast within — ten years of hell."
The space was silent, but the silence was heavier than any scream. There was no sky, no ground — only an endless abyss twisting in shades of blood, as if the entire world had spilled from its last vein. The terrain under his feet kept changing — one moment it was solid like petrified bones, the next it turned into a red lake boiling like the heart of this place.
In the torn horizon, a blood-red hourglass floated in the air, trembling slowly. Each grain of its red sand fell with a sound like the cry of dying souls. Every single grain marked the death of a being inside this arena.
Ashen stood in the middle of this madness. His body was covered in scars from battles he hadn't fought yet, and his eyes focused on something invisible — something only his blood could understand.
"Is this… my place?" His inner voice sounded like it came from a thousand throats, all his own.
Then a strange roar shook the world, belonging to no creature known to man. The ground began to tremble, and the blood covering it thickened, forming creatures with no fixed shape. Their bodies were made of a dark red aura pulsing with killing intent. They weren't made of flesh or bone, but of pure will to slaughter.
Eyes without pupils stared at Ashen, and the air tore apart with each of their steps.
He looked up at the hourglass above him — its red grains were falling faster now.
"So it begins," he said coldly, as the blood around him gathered into a swirling storm.
The aura around his body exploded — it was the first savage intent he had absorbed unconsciously. His soul trembled as if burning, but instead of pain, he felt a strange power rushing through his veins, ready to destroy anything before him.
Blood Frenzy — Five Stars!
His body erupted in a dense, crimson aura that covered the whole space. The air around him turned into rippling waves of red energy. His veins bulged, his eyes glowed dark crimson, and every strand of his hair became like a blade.
"I can feel it… the blood itself is smiling at me."
He moved.
His first step was like thunder — he wasn't moving through space, he was tearing it apart.
Three chains of blood burst from his body like serpents, coiling around the nearest beast and piercing its heart. The creature's scream shattered the silence of the void before its body melted into red mist and was absorbed into Ashen.
Every drop of blood he absorbed became new fuel, every heartbeat turned wilder.
But the monsters didn't stop. From the mist came hundreds, then thousands. This place seemed to copy hatred itself into endless forms.
When the hordes attacked from every direction, Ashen carved through the air with his hands. The Blood Bear's Fist ignited. Two massive arms of energy formed above his own, covered in dark red fur that pulsed with life. He struck the ground with a single punch — the surface exploded, sending dozens of monsters flying apart like fragile meat dolls.
But he didn't stop. In the heart of chaos, he ran, struck, tore, and roared — the ground beneath him breathing with him. Each step left behind a trail of boiling blood, and every heartbeat blasted a wave of destruction around him.
"This isn't a battle… it's a test of madness itself."
"How long has it been? A day? A month? Or just a moment?"
Time didn't exist here. The hourglass controlled everything, and it knew no mercy. But he felt it — each falling grain of red sand wasn't just a symbol; it was a pulse from his own blood.
With every monster he killed, his soul grew heavier. The savage intent seeped into him, whispering in a strange voice:
"Kill more… blood is the only truth."
His body trembled for a moment. Inside him, two sides clashed — his mind that fought, and his instinct that enjoyed the slaughter.
He raised his hand and activated the Sky Panther Rune — his legs turned into streaks of red light, and the blood beneath his feet burst into a vortex of speed. He moved among the monsters like lightning, his body shifting between solid and liquid, turning into flowing blood that slipped through claws before reforming into flesh covered in steel.
The Primitive Iron Skin ignited, covering his body in a dark metallic glow. Attacks that could tear mountains now left only sparks on his surface.
He breathed blood. Drank rage. And spoke in a language that only existed in hell's arenas.
After weeks of nonstop battle, Ashen began to understand something unexpected — savage intent wasn't his enemy. It was part of this world, of blood itself, of him. If he wanted to survive ten years here, he couldn't only fight it — he had to embrace it.
Realizing this, he sat down for a moment amid the piles of torn corpses, opened his palm, and let the savage intent flow into him willingly. The red energy seeped from the air, entered through his skin, and penetrated his bones and soul.
At first, it burned. Then it turned into a sweet flame. His wounds healed rapidly, and his strength returned in violent waves. But then he heard voices — thousands of them screaming inside him, the voices of the blood he had devoured.
"We are part of you now… no escape, blood drinker."
His consciousness shook. For a moment, he felt like he was about to explode, but then he remembered his father's distant words — "Blood isn't a curse, Ashen… it's will. Control it, don't let it control you."
He lifted his head, his eyes glowing with a clear red light, and said calmly, with a touch of madness:
"If I must fight for ten years, then I'll make every second an eternal war."
At that moment, the ground under him trembled again, the sky blazed, and the beasts rose from their ashes — no end, no rest.
Ashen fought day and night. He could no longer tell his blood from theirs. The blood chains coiled like serpents around him, devouring and feeding him in a cycle. The Bear's Fist tore apart everything it hit, the Crocodile Rune defended, and the Sky Panther dashed through waves of enemies like an untouchable crimson flash.
The first year passed like an entire lifetime. The hourglass above him began to slow… and the last grain of sand fell like a tear from the heavens.
Ashen finally knelt in a sea of scorched corpses. Blood covered the ground up to his ankles, and even the air had turned thick with iron and madness.
He looked up and saw his reflection on the surface of the hourglass — but it wasn't him. It was a creature with bloodshot eyes, a face half human, half beast, and an aura that breathed slaughter.
He smiled.
"Ten years? … In this place that devours time?"
"So be it."
The hourglass echoed again, and the ground erupted as if the world itself applauded the coming madness.
The beginning of hell… was only the beginning.