Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 484: The Slums

Chapter 484: The Slums

A thousand feet high. An almost endless fall. Dasha killed and killed with his gauntlets crackling black. Although missing Ruh al-Qital and the Seven-league Boots, his firepower was insane.

A massive centipede loomed ahead, plated in an exoskeleton that gleamed like iron. Its legs moved in a blur, closing the gap in seconds—its mandibles snapped forward, aiming to swallow him whole.

Dasha met it head-on.

"Eyða."

The Thunder Clap technique that he forged in that blood lake.

His palm exploded when it made contact. A black shockwave ripped through the centipede’s body, splintering its shell, shattering its insides. The monster convulsed, twisting and screaming, but Dasha was already inside its falling carcass, tearing through flesh with Blazing Fury Combo—a flurry of Qi-empowered strikes that ignited his fists like fire.

Bam, bam, bam, bam!

By the fourteenth strike, the centipede’s body was nothing but ruin, its limbs falling away as a burning corpse. Dasha burst out and landed on another centipedes back, using it as a platform before Electro-Stepping forward, his speed continuing to rise from the momentum.

"Black Cards."

A dozen creatures swarmed, recognizing him as a predator among them. Some spat acid, others extended tendril-like arms, weaving a net meant to kill him midair. Who killed him did not matter now: this human had to die.

Dasha uttered the incarnation in advance. All he had to do was flick his wrist and from his fingers twenty Black Cards shot forth. All head shots. All aimed at their brains. The creatures didn’t even realize they were dead.

"Black Cards."

Diving feet-first, he rinsed and repeated.

One moment, monsters attacked—the next, they were struck at the most vital point. Skulls and brains and hearts, each card slicing through tendon and bone. They dropped like stones, some still writhing, unaware that their bodies had already been severed.

Dasha moved faster.

More monsters.

More corpses.

His breath was controlled, his Qi flowing like a river, refining itself with every step, every strike, every kill.

Falling, falling, falling.

That was when it happened. A dark bubble exploded from the Great Wall itself. Dasha knew instantly what it was. A nasty, slithery hazy smoke that chased after him. With Electro-step, Dasha managed to blast himself down to avoid it.

’Anti-magic. Chasing after me, the intruder.’

Meaning, the time for battle up. His focus should be on making his way down to the Slums. Black electricity crackled and the air narrowed around his form. Arms and limps together, he became aerodynamic.

He did not stop.

The black smoke chased after him. Chased and hurled itself faster.

BOOM.

He crashed into a building. He was in the Slums. He was safe.

Dasha’s descent ripped through stone and wood, the building caving in like wet paper beneath him. Walls exploded outward, the floors above shuddering before gravity claimed them. A deafening crack echoed through the Slums as the foundation gave way, sending debris and bodies tumbling into the dark.

Screams.

The sound of splintering beams, the crunch of bodies crushed beneath rubble. Dust surged into the air, thick and choking, turning the scene into a fog of death. People ran, but many had nowhere to go. Some stood frozen in horror, watching their ceiling collapse.

A child’s cry was cut short as a heavy wooden beam snapped and fell.

Silence returned.

The dust settled and from the wreckage—Dasha Pang emerged.

The martial artist climbed out with some injury. His leg broken and his shoulder socket popped. With some forceful cracks and Internal Healing, he brushed off debris as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience. His expression remained impassive, unbothered by the ruin and death beneath him. A body twitched near his feet, a man barely clinging to life, his eyes searching for help—

Dasha stepped over him without a second glance.

Xavier was already here too.

He stood untouched and immaculate—not a single scratch on him. He had landed without a single misstep, as expected.

"The people will come like rats," Xavier said. "Let us go."

The Slums was thick with filth, both seen and unseen. Smoke and rot. Sewage and sweat. The streets were narrow, carved through a maze of ramshackle homes, stacked atop one another like forgotten relics. What little light made it down here was dim and yellow, filtered through the layers of grime on oil lamps and flickering torches.

The people here were hollow-eyed, their faces carved from hunger and despair. Some whispered among themselves, fearful glances thrown in their direction. They had heard the crash. Some had seen the destruction. But no one dared confront them.

Here, in the Slums, there was no principle of survival of the fittest. No, this was just about survival. The weak, the strong, it did not matter.

"This air..." Dasha actually had to put a hand to his mouth. There was so little impure Qi here. Tu Na Breathing was struggling once more.

"Toxic as the last time you arrived?" Xavier said. "Only the locals or the exceptional few can stay here for more than two days without collapsing."

As a Cultivator that had freshly learned Tu Na Breathing, Dasha was now one of them. He could stay here for more than two days.

"This will be perfect then."

Xavier glanced at him. "For what?"

"Training."

With so little impure Natural Qi, his body and Tu Na Breathing was going to learn to push itself. This couldn’t have gone better.

"I do wish to ask: how did the cult member you followed climb the gates?"

"The Great Wall has no opening, or so it seems. Briareus, the Sea Goat, seems to have a special connection with the Great Wall and if you manage to live long enough and answer a riddle, he may let you through."

May, not always.

"So the cult member was confident in getting a riddle when facing Briareus?"

"So it seems. I do not wish to be hasty but I believe they cast a hypnosis spell over him. Farfetched as it sounds given giants are naturally resistant to attacks to the mind, it is the only theory I can come up with. How they do so, I was not able to glean."

"Hm."

Dasha followed Xavier through a series of twisting alleys. They were no markets here. They were drugs addicts and death accompanied with spoiled fruit, rusted tools, and rocks.

At last, they reached their destination. A hideout of sorts, an abandoned structure with its walls covered in mold and faded graffiti. The door barely held together, hanging from a single hinge, and the floor was stained dark with something best left unexamined.

A few makeshift cots were scattered inside, along with barrels filled with rainwater and what little supplies they had gathered. A small lantern flickered weakly, casting jagged shadows against the walls.

It was not luxury.

But it would serve.

Xavier turned to him, hat tipped and wearing something close to a smile. "Welcome. This is my little hideout out in the Slums. Do be kind."