Sign-In System: Starting With Invincible Physique

Chapter 284: Chapter 284: The Portal to Hell

Chapter 284: The Portal to Hell

"Husband, you are leaving again?"

Seris’s sweet voice carried a distinct trace of reluctance.

She walked up to him, her pale purple eyes looking up at his handsome face with deep concern.

Liana stood a few paces behind her, her emerald eyes reflecting the same worry.

"I have something important to do outside," Rhain spoke softly, raising his hand to gently stroke Seris’s magnificent silver-blue hair. "It is a matter that concerns our future safety. I cannot delay it."

He didn’t mention the Crucible Arena.

If Seris knew he was willingly walking into a lawless, blood-soaked underground death trap where even Domain Masters perished daily, she would likely summon her icy sword and press it to her neck again to stop him.

With a flick of his wrist, Rhain retrieved several exquisite jade bottles from his spatial ring and placed them gently onto the stone table.

"These are Epic-Grade and Mystic-Grade pills I refined over the past week," Rhain instructed, his tone turning serious. "Stay within the courtyard and cultivate diligently while I am gone. Do not leave the Academy grounds for any reason. I will return soon."

Seris bit her pink lip, clearly unwilling to part with him so soon after his near-death encounter, but she understood that her husband was alone carrying the burden of their survival on his shoulders.

"I understand," Seris murmured, leaning forward to gently rest her head against his chest for a brief moment. "Please, be careful, husband. Come back to me safely."

Liana offered a firm nod. "Don’t worry about us, Rhain. We won’t take a single step outside."

"Good."

Rhain gave them a reassuring smile.

-----------------------

Under the cover of the dark night, Rhain quietly slipped away from the guest sector.

He made his way toward the designated meeting point at the outer edge of the Valdris Royal Academy.

Dean Qaylus had been extremely efficient.

Standing in the shadows of a towering tree was a man wrapped in a heavy cloak.

As Rhain approached, the man stepped into the moonlight.

He was a heavily scarred, one-eyed man with a thick black eyepatch covered his left eye.

The aura rolling off his body was at the peak of the Spirit Manifestation Realm, yet it felt strangely unstable, as if his foundation had been irreparably damaged long ago.

This was Caskell—the trusted contact Dean Qaylus had arranged for him.

"You must be Rhain," Caskell spoke, his voice gruff and rasp.

Rhain’s dark grey eyes swept over the veteran.

"And You must be Caskell," Rhain stated calmly.

The scarred man flinched.

A visible shudder ran through his body.

The mere thought of where they were heading seemed to draw the warmth right out of his blood.

Caskell swallowed hard, wiping a bead of cold sweat from his forehead. "If you are ready, we must leave immediately. The entrance to that place shifts constantly. We will only have a narrow window tonight."

Rhain gave a brief nod. "Lead the way."

Caskell didn’t waste any words. He turned on his heel and darted into the night.

They traveled in complete silence for dozens of miles, crossing a dense forest.

The further they went, the more desolate and oppressive the environment became.

Finally, Caskell descended toward a completely unremarkable, hidden valley deep within a treacherous mountain range.

RUMBLE—!!!

The deafening roar of crashing water echoed through the valley.

Caskell stopped at the edge of a massive, thundering waterfall that plummeted hundreds of feet into a misty basin below.

He stood before the roaring water, his hands moving rapidly to form a series of complex, highly irregular hand seals.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

He sent a unique, synchronized sequence of essence pulses directly into the center of the cascading waterfall.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the space trembled.

WHOOSH—!!!

The massive curtain of thundering water parted down the middle, splitting like a pair of grand curtains being drawn back by an invisible giant.

Hidden directly behind the waterfall was a shimmering spatial portal.

But it was not an ordinary portal.

The vortex swirling within the spatial rift was entirely blood-red.

Just standing near it made one feel as if they were looking directly into the hell.

Rhain looked at the blood-red portal, his dark grey eyes narrowing slightly.

But he didn’t hesitate. He took a step forward.

"This is as far as I go," Caskell blurted out, frantically taking three steps back as his gaze landed on the portal.

Rhain paused, glancing back at the trembling man.

"I barely escaped that place with my life ten years ago," Caskell said, his single eye wide with deeply ingrained trauma. He pointed a shaking finger at the blood-red rift. "I would rather face the devil himself than step foot in that slaughterhouse again."

Rhain’s expression remained perfectly placid.

He didn’t mock the man’s fear; the sheer oppressive density of the portal’s aura justified it.

"Before you go in, boy, listen to me," Caskell urged, his raspy voice turning incredibly solemn. "Dean Qaylus asked me to guide you, so I will give you the rules that might keep you breathing past your first night."

Rhain turned fully toward the veteran. "Speak."

Caskell held up a shaking finger.

"First. Trust no one. There are no friends in the Crucible Arena. The man who smiles and drinks with you today will cheerfully slit your throat in your sleep tomorrow for a single Blood-Iron Token."

He raised a second finger.

"Second. Never, under any circumstances, reveal your real name. Pick an alias and stick to it. If anyone discovers your true identity, they will use it to blackmail you, or worse, sell that information to your enemies outside."

"Third," Caskell continued, " never display more wealth or power than necessary—greed is the law of that world. If you show them you are rich, you will be targeted by entire packs of rogue cultivators until you die or surrender your wealth."

Rhain listened silently, absorbing every word.

Caskell pointed toward the portal again.

"The moment you arrive, you must find the Registration Hall immediately. Declare your cultivation and obtain your fighter’s token. Without that token, you are considered stray meat, and anyone can kill you without consequence."

Rhain gave a slow nod. "I understand. Is there anything else?"

Caskell took a deep breath, his lone eye locking onto Rhain with utmost severity.

"There is a last one... the most unbreakable rule of the Crucible Arena."

Rhain listened attentively.

"Everyone in that arena wears a simple mask to hide their face and identity. But the true taboo, the one law you must never, ever break is using your Spiritual Sense to pry into someone’s mask."

Rhain wasn’t surprised with this rule.

Crucible Arena was a haven for the damned.

It harbors wanted criminals, disgraced nobles, exiled Domain Masters, and even members of the Imperial Families hiding under false identities to sate their bloodlust.

Anonymity is sacred.

It is the single thread that keeps the fragile peace between thousands of bloodthirsty killers."

Caskell’s voice turned chilling cold in the darkeness of the night as he finished his last warning.

"Remember, if you even try to use your Spiritual Sense to pierce someone’s mask and uncover their identity, you will be executed on the spot. It is a thousand-year-old law, enforced ruthlessly by the arena’s hidden masters. No one, not even the nine seats can go against it and live."

Rhain processed the grim warnings, his mind rapidly cataloging the rules of this underground hell.

Finally, he spoke.

"I understand," Rhain replied simply. "Thank you for the guidance."

With a flick of his wrist, a flash of spatial light illuminated the dark valley.

Rhain reached into his spatial ring and pulled out an item he had acquired weeks ago through his daily Sign-In rewards, but had never found a reason to use.

An Epic-Grade demonic mask.

It was forged from a pitch-black, unknown metal, carved with the visage of a wrathful Asura.

Two jagged, crimson horns swept back from the crown, and the eye slits glowed with a bloodthirsty luminescence.

The artifact inherently suppressed the wearer’s exact spiritual signature, masking it behind an aura of ominousness.

Rhain lifted the demonic mask and secured it over his face.

Without casting a single backward glance at the trembling man, Rhain turned and strode directly into the thundering waterfall.

He stepped through the blood-red portal alone.

The space rippled around him, and the oppressive, blood-soaked aura of the Crucible Arena swallowed him whole.

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