# Chapter 142: Frenzied Rage
The slave brand on this martial artist's face crisscrossed in every direction, disfiguring him beyond recognition.
Combined with his disheveled, unkempt hair and the shackles on his body, the slave martial artist exuded a savage aura, appearing exceptionally ferocious.
However, his pitch-black eyes were incredibly sharp, and just his gaze alone made people's hearts tremble.
"So cold!"
The crowd felt a chill in their hearts when they saw those eyes. The slave martial artists in the prison arena were all desperate criminals who honed their skills on the edge of life and death every day. They were extremely formidable. If one could be made to serve oneself, it would be quite beneficial. Therefore, whenever slave martial artists from the prison arena appeared at auction, they would inevitably trigger a bidding war.
Lin Feng frowned slightly. Such cruel methods—he wondered where these slaves came from. They even had to brand slave marks on their faces, completely disfiguring them. Even if they escaped, they could never live openly as proper people again, only in the shadows.
"This slave is at the third layer of the Spirit Martial Realm, with sixteen wins. If a prison fighter of the same realm defeats him, the reward is twenty mid-grade origin stones. For prison fighters below the third layer of the Spirit Martial Realm, victory rewards one hundred mid-grade origin stones."
The old man leading the slave martial artist into the prison arena spoke, causing the crowd's eyes to narrow. A slave with sixteen wins—twelve fewer than Scorpion Tiger—but the reward for victory was the same. This showed that the prison arena personnel had more confidence in this slave than in Scorpion Tiger.
"White Ze, third layer of the Spirit Martial Realm, same as you."
At this moment, the yellow-clothed youth not far behind Lin Feng said to White Ze, making White Ze's gaze sharpen. After a moment of deliberation, he nodded. "I'll go."
"Good." A hint of a smile appeared on the yellow-clothed youth's face. White Ze stood up, walked to the steps, crossed over in a few strides, arrived outside the cage, and nodded slightly at the old man.
The old man frowned when he saw White Ze and said, "This slave martial artist is very powerful. Are you sure you want to fight him?"
"Yes." White Ze nodded affirmatively. Only then did the old man allow White Ze to step into the prison arena.
"Hmph."
On the viewing platform, Wen Aoxue snorted coldly, seemingly displeased.
Lin Feng was also somewhat puzzled. The old man had actually warned White Ze. When he had entered the cage to fight Scorpion Tiger, no one had warned him that Scorpion Tiger was formidable.
"Lin Feng, that slave martial artist is about to be unlucky," Wen Aoxue said, making Lin Feng look at him strangely.
"How can you tell? I've seen his strength, and there's nothing particularly special about it. I don't think he's necessarily a match for this slave," Lin Feng said.
"White Ze has almost no chance of winning. But do you know who's in charge of this prison arena?" Wen Aoxue said again, making Lin Feng's gaze sharpen as he looked at Wen Aoxue in surprise.
"The prison arena is currently managed by the White family—White Ze's own family," Wen Aoxue said indifferently, making Lin Feng's heart tremble. No wonder the old man had warned White Ze. So that was it—this place was run by White Ze's family.
"With so many eyes watching the prison arena, if White Ze's strength is insufficient, can they really pull any tricks?"
"Heh, you underestimate these nobles. They only care about results, not the process." Wen Aoxue smiled faintly, looking as if he understood everything.
At this moment, in the prison arena, the slave martial artist saw White Ze enter and immediately released a surge of savage aura, extremely cold and fierce.
His eyes, partially obscured by his disheveled hair, were icy and piercing, making White Ze's heart tremble slightly.
"Die!"
A cold word escaped the slave martial artist's lips, and his body lunged directly at White Ze. Anyone who entered the prison arena came to take his life—either White Ze died, or he died.
The iron chains binding him suddenly danced through the air, like venomous snake spears, whistling as they stabbed toward White Ze.
"So fast."
Seeing the iron chain thrusting at him instantly, White Ze dodged, and at the same time, a gust of wind rose. White Ze became incredibly light and agile, moving with the wind.
"Gale Martial Soul."
Lin Feng saw a gale phantom appear behind White Ze and murmured. Last time, White Ze had been arrogant, boasting about how talented he was, but in the end, he couldn't even withstand one of Lin Feng's fingers. He hadn't even had time to release his martial soul, and that slap had been loud and clear.
However, at less than eighteen years old, White Ze could be considered a genius in many other places, even in the Cloud Sea Sect. But here, in the Imperial City, where geniuses gathered, there were many more outstanding than White Ze. So geniuses were no longer called geniuses.
The slave martial artist didn't even glance at White Ze. His eyes remained deep and cold. The chains in his hand trembled slightly, then swept out horizontally, the air whistling.
"So domineering."
White Ze's gaze trembled. He didn't dare to meet it head-on and retreated again. But then, a slightly illusory vine appeared silently, instantly wrapping around White Ze's body. The chains once again transformed into a spear, stabbing directly at White Ze's heart.
Not a single unnecessary movement—every move aimed to kill White Ze.
White Ze's pupils contracted. He struggled, his palms trembling violently as a murderous gale swept toward the chains, raising dust everywhere.
But at that moment, White Ze suddenly felt an immense force coming from the vines, pulling his body forward. The slave martial artist, using White Ze's body, traced a perfect arc and appeared directly at White Ze's side. The chain spear struck.
"So strong."
Exclamations came from the viewing platform. This slave martial artist's control was too powerful. Every movement seemed calculated—swift, efficient, lethal.
As for Lin Feng, his brows were tightly furrowed. That was a Vine Martial Soul. He had seen this kind of martial soul before. Han Man's friend, Po Jun, possessed this same martial soul.
"Po Jun... Jun... slave!"
Lin Feng's gaze flickered uncertainly as he stared fixedly at the slave martial artist. Could it be a coincidence? That he just happened to have the same martial soul and the character "Jun" in his name?
"Pfft!"
In the prison arena, White Ze hastily defended but couldn't block the impact of the chain spear. His chest took a heavy blow, and his body flew backward.
The slave martial artist's body trembled as he lunged at White Ze with the chain spear. Only by killing the opponent would the prison fight end, and only then could he survive.
"Stop!"
At that moment, a sharp shout rang out, making the slave martial artist's body stiffen. He stopped, his sharp gaze fixed on the approaching old man.
"This fight ends here," the old man said indifferently, causing the crowd's eyes to narrow.
Ends here?
Once in the prison arena, only the death of one side ended the fight—that was the rule of the prison arena. How could it end here?
"It seems this prison fighter has a close relationship with the old man," the crowd thought, recalling how the old man had warned White Ze earlier. That was the only possibility.
"The fight isn't over. How can it end here?" A hoarse voice came from the slave martial artist's mouth as he stared at the old man.
The old man raised an eyebrow, then a sinister look appeared in his eyes. A slave dared to talk back to him?
"Since you want to fight, I'll grant your wish." The old man smiled sinisterly and shouted, "Release the Savage Beast in."
As the old man's words fell, at another entrance to the cage, a middle-aged man slowly appeared in the crowd's view.
What made the crowd freeze was that this middle-aged man was riding on someone's back. The figure beneath him had hands and feet—it was actually a human. But he was crawling out on all fours, and his limbs and throat were tightly bound with iron chains, the other ends held in the middle-aged man's palm.
"Jun, among all the slaves, besides the Savage Beast, you're the hardest to tame. And now you see what's become of Savage—he's been tamed into a beast. Today, I want you to fight Savage. The victor lives, the loser dies!" the old man said sinisterly.
Jun's gaze was now icy cold as he stared at the old man, as if he wanted to swallow him whole. They wanted him to fight Savage? These beasts!
When the figure crawling on the ground heard this, he raised his head, his beast-like gaze fixed on the old man with venomous hatred.
Seeing this raised head of the Savage Beast, at Lin Feng's position on the viewing platform, an incomparably icy aura frantically spread outward!