My mom is waiting for treatment, and you're summoning me to be a hero?

Lin Mo punched Woking in the face again and again.

The dull thud of fists striking cheekbones echoed through the arena. Each punch was precisely controlled to deliver just enough force for the audience to hear the cracking of bones, yet not enough to kill instantly.

Vol'jin's golden skin was already stained dark red with blood, and he was uttering incoherent whimpers. The chain gauntlets had long since slipped from his exhausted fingers.

With each punch, the audience in the stands erupted in waves of cheers, each one louder than the last.

Lin Mo silently estimated the extent to which his internal strength had recovered.

He felt his muscle fibers tighten slightly with each cheer.

I can feel the power that was drained away by the rules of pleasure and desire being slowly poured back through some unseen valve.

Almost there.

He grabbed Woking by the collar and lifted him off the sand.

His right fist hovered in mid-air, then he turned his head to look at the stands.

The audience held their breath, wondering what Lin Mo would do next.

Lin Mo cleared his throat.

"Family! If you raise the bet, I'll chop off his head!"

The stands were silent for half a second, then erupted.

"Holy crap! That's exciting!"

"Place your bets now! Place your bets now!"

"Did you hear that?! He's telling us, family members! Sisters, hurry up and place your bets!"

……

A wave of people formed in the stands, crowding towards the direction of the bets.

Some people even took out their money bags from their pockets and threw them directly at Lin Mo's feet.

Cheers, screams, and hysterical shouts created a boiling cacophony of noise, causing the entire arena's dome to tremble slightly.

Feeling the power gradually returning to his body, Lin Mo moved his wrist and threw the dying Vol'jin to the ground.

"That's about it."

Then he drew his black sword.

The metallic scraping sound of the black sword being drawn echoed clearly in the arena, and all the spectators in the stands stood up at the same time.

They had waited too long.

When the newcomer in black robes finally drew his weapon, it meant that the massacre was about to reach its most exciting climax.

Everyone wore the same fervent anticipation.

"Finally, the sword is drawn! Hurry up and strike!"

A heavily made-up female audience member was so excited that she crushed her wine glass.

"Is it over already? I haven't had enough! Let's play a little longer! I still have half a bag of gold coins to bet!"

The dwarfs in the back row pounded the railing with their thick fists, creating a synchronized booming sound.

"Cut off his head! Cut off his head! Cut off his head!"

Everyone was shouting like madmen.

Some people jumped onto the back of chairs, some tore up gambling tickets and scattered them around the arena, and some pulled at their hair and shouted orders at Lin Mo.

Cut off his head, smash his skull, and hang his body on the stone tablet in the very center of the arena.

They were used to it, used to standing in the stands and remotely controlling the fate of the gladiators, used to buying life and death with money, used to deciding who lived and who died with bets.

They assumed that today's duel would be the same.

This black-robed human will obediently follow orders and will cut down the black sword for a higher stake.

Like all gladiators, they will become the snacks for their revelry tonight.

Lin Mo scanned the entire audience.

The undisguised disgust in their eyes was like a cold blade slicing across every fanatical face.

"A bunch of idiots."

As soon as he finished speaking, a ring of dark blue soul ripples suddenly exploded from the black sword.

Countless souls surged forth from the sword.

The souls of nine demigod dragons spread their wings, blotting out the sky, above the arena.

The tentacles of the Thousand-Eyed Sea Demon emerged from the void, each of its grayish-white eyes opening simultaneously.

More than two thousand ghost scouts scattered like a torrential rain.

They weren't preparing for battle, nor were they setting up formations; instead, they completely sealed off the entire arena.

Then, the azure soul energy began to condense directly above the arena.

That is the Soul Corrosion Realm.

A massive, eerie green meteorite slowly coalesced above the arena.

The surface of the meteorite is covered with countless faces of tormented and devout souls.

Upon seeing the meteorite, the fervor in the audience not only did not subside, but burned even brighter.

"What kind of skill is that! It's so powerful! Meteor! It's a meteor!"

"Does he possess the inheritance of the Meteorite Law?! That one move would reduce those three orcs to dust!"

"Yes! That's it! Smash them to death! Smash them to pieces!"

The cheers, whistles, and the rustling sound of torn gambling tickets being scattered into the air continued.

As the meteorite began to fall, its speed increasing, the eerie green light illuminated the entire arena's dome, making it resemble the wreckage of a shipwreck deep in the ocean.

Finally, someone in the front row realized something was wrong.

The smile on the face of a fat man in a striped silk robe froze inch by inch, and the wine glass slipped from his loose fingers and shattered at his feet.

"Wait... this angle... this size... something's not right."

He suddenly grabbed his companion's arm, his voice changing from trembling to a sharp scream.

"This meteorite seems to be heading straight for us!"

The Soul Corrosion Realm descended.

There was no explosion, no roar, only an extremely faint, sigh-like hum.

Before the meteorite even hit the ground, the walls of the arena began to crumble and turn to dust.

Stone arched beams, jewel-encrusted chandeliers, casino GG signs, and human figures still cheering in the stands.

All matter touched by the eerie green light instantly decomposed into the finest dust particles, which were then swallowed up.

The corruption of souls spread rapidly in all directions from the point of impact of the meteorite. Eerie green flames burned silently on the ruins, corroding the stone slabs, sand, iron railings, and fragments of gambling tickets into a grayish-green pus.

More than 50,000 spectators didn't even have time to let out a final scream before they were swallowed up in the green light of the corrupted land and turned to ashes.

This is not finished.

The corrupted lands continued to spread outwards from the edge of the arena, engulfing more than a dozen blocks outside the arena.

Casinos, taverns, opera houses, flowerbeds...

Everything was decomposed, corroded, and collapsed in the eerie green light.

In less than half an incense stick's time, a small portion of the island was reduced to a desolate, decaying ruin.

Zhanxin stood on the edge of the sand.

He witnessed firsthand how the black-robed human brutally murdered the three orc brothers, punch by punch.

Then, they detonated a soul meteorite in the audience, annihilating 50,000 spectators.

Then they saw the green, corrupt land spreading outwards from the arena and engulfing a small part of the island.

Then he recalled the things he had said to Lin Mo in the cage.

"You're very brave."

"Just watch my performance then."

"I might not be able to take care of you this time."

……

He still remembered saying in the cage that he was a sword god, had killed two thousand people, and had a two-hundred-year winning streak.

These glories he had taken for granted now seemed like a joke.