Chapter 483: The Fourth Sub-Arena of the Evil God’s Arena

“Traveler of the River of Time, knower of all mysteries, master of the extraordinary rites, Lord of the Court of Fate! Have you heard my voice?”

“I wish to know how to labyrinthify the City of Desolation.”

Perhaps it was due to the countless prayers he had offered, but Charlot Mecklenburg suddenly felt as though the back of his head had been lashed by a silver serpent’s tail. The strike was neither too heavy nor too light—just enough to sting without knocking him unconscious.

Charlot Mecklenburg had received a Strike of Fate!

While it wasn’t clear whether the Serpent of Fate was angry, it was certainly displeased.

After receiving the lash, Charlot dared not continue his prayers. However, his mind suddenly raced, and he speculated: “Could the Serpent of Fate think I’m being foolish and is trying to tell me this is easily solved?”

After pondering for a moment, he clapped his thigh and exclaimed, “Let’s just dismantle this city first.”

Charlot mobilized a group of robust labyrinth guards, equipped himself with the Blood Rhinoceros, and unleashed the flaming lance in its awakened state. With his weapon and body transformed into a fiery whirlwind, he demolished eight walls in a single charge. The ruined city, already riddled with damage, couldn’t withstand such a brutal demolition. Within half a day, not a single wall remained standing.

Just as Charlot was wiping the sweat off his brow, a subordinate reported, “We discovered an underground entrance, but no one can enter—not even Mr. Viggo.”

Charlot thought, “So that’s it. This must be the Serpent of Fate’s hint.”

He strode toward the subterranean entrance, and sure enough, his diary conveyed a message: Charlot Mecklenburg was about to challenge the fourth labyrinth—the City of Desolation. The city above ground was merely a ruin; the true City of Desolation lay underground. He was instructed to find the entrance, enter alone, and cleanse the dungeon of its wandering monsters.

Ah, it also served as the fourth sub-arena of the Evil God’s Arena!

If he encountered candidates vying to become evil gods, he was to ensure his survival. After all, he wasn’t in the same race as them.

It dawned on Charlot why he hadn’t been able to labyrinthify the City of Desolation. The true city was underground, and he hadn’t even stepped into it. Naturally, he couldn’t transform it.

However, the dungeon’s requirement for solo entry unsettled Charlot. He summoned two of his saint-rank subordinates, who confirmed they couldn’t enter the dungeon or destroy the entrance. When Juno Arthur arrived to inspect, the strongest vampire chuckled and said, “This space was crafted by over ten evil gods working together. Don’t even think about destroying it—it’s designed to admit only one person.”

Charlot hesitated for a long while. If he didn’t enter and complete the labyrinth challenge, he’d be sent to the Evil God’s Arena...

Well, entering seemed the better option.

He prepared combat supplies, ample food and water, and even a dozen sets of clothes and shoes before leaping into the dungeon.

...

Upon entering the dungeon, Charlot felt as though the world had flattened into two dimensions. His vision became a kaleidoscope of colors, but there was nothing tangible. His own body seemed to dissolve into another dimension, where matter and even time blurred. The sensation was utterly bizarre.

Unable to measure time directly, Charlot calculated based on the speed of his thoughts. It seemed months had passed, as he had mentally recited over twenty web novels. Yet, he also felt it hadn’t been so long. Human thought, after all, was constrained by the physical body, with nerve transmission limited to just over a hundred meters per second.

For ordinary humans, that is. Transcendents like Charlot had nerve speeds far exceeding normal humans—low-tier transcendents could even dodge bullets.

...

Finally, he felt a solid surface beneath his feet. Charlot knew he was standing on firm ground again.

After a moment, his senses fully returned, and to his astonishment, he realized he looked like a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy. His worn hunting gear was crudely stitched together from various scraps of hide, offering no advantages beyond basic coverage.

He found himself in a hall with thirty to forty people divided into four or five small teams. Charlot was in one of these teams, consisting of five members—three boys and two girls, all about his age.

Testing his abilities, Charlot confirmed that his Blood Glory still functioned normally, and he retained his rank as an eighteenth-tier transcendent. His various extraordinary abilities were intact, but none of the weapons he had prepared were usable. Only mundane weapons and materials could be retrieved from his Infinite Mirror World, which was now restricted to a tiny fragment.

Charlot had long been expanding his mirror world, claiming the majority of Queen Bee’s portholes and his fleet. It had grown vast, yet now it was reduced to this sliver. Worse still, his Infinite Mirror World offered no escape from the Evil God’s Arena.

Neither did his labyrinth abilities.

Charlot stabilized his emotions. Even without extraordinary weapons, he remained an eighteenth-tier transcendent. However, his frequently relied-on Swiftstep Technique had been reduced from ×12 to ×5, leaving him a bit unaccustomed.

Preoccupied with assessing his condition, Charlot only responded when his companions called his name repeatedly.

A young girl whispered, “We have to work together. This is a team battle, and only the winning team will get a fragment of divinity. The losers get nothing.”

Charlot glanced at his four teammates and said nothing. He wasn’t here for the same purpose as them.

He was here to challenge the fourth labyrinth. They were participants in the Evil God’s Arena.

The fourth sub-arena.

Though Charlot didn’t know what a fragment of divinity was, with only one available per team, it was clear he wouldn’t get it.

Unless, of course, he killed all his teammates.

Not that it would be easy.

The two boys flattered the girl, saying, “Youna! We’ll follow your lead. You were the best at the academy—you’ll definitely lead us to victory.”

Youna glanced at Charlot and asked, “I know almost everyone in the academy, but I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”

Shrugging, Charlot replied, “I’m probably too unremarkable to notice. My name’s Kainan, and I’ll cooperate with everyone.”

Youna remained suspicious and asked, “Only transcendents can enter the Evil God’s Arena. What tier are you?”

Scratching his head, Charlot hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to answer. He only knew that claiming to be “eighteenth-tier” wasn’t the right move. He doubted these young companions had reached mid-tier transcendent levels.

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