“Another top-grade talisman… Just how many of these damned things do you have?”

The Blood Blade Sect cultivator stared in disbelief, his chest heaving with exertion. The might of his last slash had been enough to cleave the heavens and the earth, a strike poured with every ounce of his cultivation.

He had seen the result with his own eyes—the golden light shield protecting his opponent had clearly shattered, dissolving into fragments of fading spiritual light.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, a new barrier had hummed into existence, pristine and impenetrable.

The attacker was a cultivator at the peak of late-stage Foundation Establishment. To him, a standard First-Grade Golden Light Body Protection Talisman was hardly a rarity; he could shatter one with a casual flick of his wrist. But to withstand a full-powered strike from his blade without faltering? Only a top-grade talisman possessed such terrifying resilience.

Li Meng stood amidst the driving rain, untouched. His white hair cascaded over broad, youthful shoulders, and his unlined face held a serene, sage-like smile. He flicked his wide sleeve with an effortless grace.

Whoosh.

Dozens of golden talismans streamed out from his cuff, circling around him like obedient satellites.

Each strip of yellow paper glowed with a faint, rhythmic luminescence, emitting the profound aura of the natural world. The collective radiance bathed Li Meng in a sacred halo, making him look less like a cultivator and more like an enlightened monk descending from the heavens to purge the world of filth.

“Fellow Daoist,” Li Meng said, his voice warm and steady, “please, continue.”

A vein throbbed violently at the Blood Blade cultivator’s temple.

Is this guy a Talisman Master?

He looked at the Dao Rhyme emanating from the swirling defenses. Every single sheet was a top-grade talisman. Even for a Grandmaster of the craft, this level of waste was absurd. It was obscene.

Realizing that a battle of attrition against such bottomless wealth was a fool’s errand, the Blood Blade cultivator gritted his teeth and looked down toward the West City District.

“Rat Supreme! What are you waiting for? Get up here and finish him off!” his roar thundered through the rainy night.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! What are you howling about?”

A raspy, grating voice echoed from the darkness below.

A figure clad in black shot into the sky like a fired arrow, breaking through the curtain of rain. He hovered in the air, riding the wind, his oversized robes flapping wildly around a gaunt frame.

It was a Rat Demon—a grotesque parody of a cultivator.

He wore a dirty gray Daoist robe and carried an enormous gourd on his back that seemed almost as large as he was. His appearance was undeniably comical: a shriveled figure with a narrow face and two massive buck teeth protruding sharply from his upper lip.

Rat Supreme swept his beady eyes over Li Meng, then let out a sinister, cackling laugh. “Jie jie jie! Truly useless. You can’t even handle a mere early-stage Foundation Establishment junior? You actually need this venerable one to take action?”

The Blood Blade cultivator’s face turned the color of liver. He gripped his blade tight, suppressing the urge to strike his ally. “Cut the crap. This person is dripping with treasures. Kill him, and we split the loot evenly.”

“Split evenly?” Rat Supreme looked at the human with unmasked mockery. “Do you take Rat Supreme for a fool? Seventy-thirty. I take seven, you take three.”

A flash of killing intent flickered in the swordsman’s eyes, but he swallowed his pride. “Fine. Deal!”

He couldn’t afford to haggle. The priority was killing this anomaly. Once the “Youthful Sage” was dead, all the spoils would belong to the Blood Blade Sect anyway. As for the Rat Demon… hmph. Just a foul-smelling beast. He would round up these vermin and slaughter them all in a few days.

Rat Supreme grinned, his whiskers twitching. “Jie jie! Watch closely. Let me show you the methods of a true master!”

The demon reached back and slapped the bottom of the massive gourd.

Boom.

A torrent of noxious green mist erupted from the gourd’s mouth. It surged forward like a tidal wave, blotting out the sky and rolling toward Li Meng with suffocating pressure.

A poison cultivator?

Li Meng frowned slightly, the smooth skin of his forehead creasing.

With a dismissive flick of his sleeve, the defensive talismans rustled and flew back into his robes. He didn’t need passive defense for this.

“A mere rat dares to call itself ‘Supreme’ before me?” Li Meng’s voice boomed, shedding its warmth for cold judgment. “Vile creature, submit to your fate!”

He brought his hands together, fingers weaving through complex seals in a blur of motion.

“Golden Light Mantra Talisman, rise!”

Li Meng gave a soft shout.

In the next instant, a blinding eruption of golden light exploded from his body. It was as if a golden sun had suddenly dawned over Lijiang City, piercing the gloom of the rainy night. Bathed in this brilliance, Li Meng’s youthful, robust form radiated the terrifying majesty of the heavens.

He thrust his palm forward.

Spiritual energy condensed rapidly, forming a colossal golden handprint out of thin air. It was vast, heavy, and radiated a pure, searing heat.

The handprint flew forward, meeting the oncoming wave of poison.

The green mist didn’t even have a chance to touch the construct. The moment the corruption came within range of the holy light, it sizzled and vanished, purified into nothingness.

“What… what kind of divine power is this?!”

Rat Supreme let out a strangled squeak of terror.

Without a second thought, he turned and fled, his silhouette blurring as he tried to escape into the distance.

But no matter how fast he flew, he could not outrun the judgment of the light. The golden handprint loomed larger and larger, closing the gap in a heartbeat.

Panic seized the demon. Rat Supreme unslung the massive gourd from his back and hurled it backward at the pursuing palm.

Bang!

The gourd detonated the moment it made contact. A thick, concentrated cloud of poisonous gas billowed out, trying to corrupt the attack.

It was futile. The golden light burned through the poison instantly, purifying the air without slowing down. The massive palm descended, pressing down on the fleeing demon like the hand of a god swatting a fly.

“Great Immortal, spare my life—!”

Rat Supreme’s face twisted in absolute horror. He raised both skinny arms, screaming for mercy.

The moment his words fell, the handprint closed.

There was no blood, no gore. The Rat Demon’s body simply disintegrated, turning to ash instantly under the overwhelming purification of the Golden Light Mantra.

As the demon vanished, the giant golden handprint slowly dissolved into motes of light, fading into the rain.