Chapter 168: The War Hall’s Edge (Part 1)
The rogue cultivator watched his companion disintegrate into mist and blood. Terror, cold and absolute, seized his heart.
He’s Early Foundation Establishment. I’m Early Foundation Establishment. How is the gap this big?
“Run!”
He spun around, activating his movement technique. But before he could take a step, a shadow blocked his path.
Another Qingyun Sect disciple stood there, his face impassive.
“Leaving so soon?”
The disciple raised his hand. A golden flying sword erupted with blinding light.
Whoosh!
The rogue cultivator felt a crushing pressure—not just spiritual, but physical. It was as if the air itself had turned to iron. His defensive shield shattered like glass, and then, darkness took him.
Above, Zhang Yuan descended slowly. He hovered over the two Mid-Foundation Establishment cultivators who lay broken on the ground. A single sword strike had crippled them both.
They looked up at him, their eyes filled with despair and regret.
“Fellow Daoist! Mercy!” one wheezed, blood bubbling from his lips. “We were blind! Spare us!”
“Please!” the other begged. “We will give you everything! Just let us go!”
They couldn’t understand it. An Early Foundation Establishment cultivator crushing two Mid-stage experts? It defied common sense.
Zhang Yuan looked down at them, his expression cold.
“Those who kill to seize treasures deserve to die.”
He pointed a finger. Two beams of sword light plunged down, pinning them to the earth.
Thud. Thud.
Silence returned to the valley.
“Clean up,” Zhang Yuan ordered, wiping his blade. “We have quotas to meet.”
His subordinates looked at him with awe. Zhang Yuan was a cultivation maniac, famous in the War Hall for his intensity. Now, after breaking through to Foundation Establishment, his overall strength had undergone a dramatic transformation.
The three Qi Refining disciples accompanying the team exchanged glances. They weren’t War Hall members, but seeing this display of power lit a fire in their hearts.
I have to pass the Heart Questioning Array next year, one thought fiercely. I have to join the War Hall.
Across the Chaos Demon Commandery, the War Hall squads swept through the wilderness like a scythe. They were disciplined, equipped with advanced detection arrays, and fueled by techniques far superior to the local standard.
Whenever they clashed with other factions over resources, the result was always the same: domination.
Over a small mortal city.
Zhao Lun led a squad of four Qingyun Sect disciples, racing toward a distress signal on his Spirit Plate.
Below them, the city was burning.
Dozens of demon beasts rampaged through the streets, tearing down houses and hunting civilians.
“Help! Save us!”
“Mommy! Wake up!”
The screams of the dying rose like smoke.
Zhao Lun’s eyes narrowed. “Exterminate them.”
“Yes!”
The squad dove. Sword lights rained down, striking the beasts with surgical precision.
In a ruined alley, a young girl lay trapped under debris. Her leg was broken, and she could only watch in horror as a fiery-red wolf, its fur wreathed in flames, stalked toward her.
“No… please…” she sobbed, closing her eyes as the beast lunged.
SHING!
A golden light flashed.
The girl flinched, but the pain never came. She opened her eyes to see the wolf collapse, a clean hole punched through its skull.
A figure in blue robes descended—Zhao Lun. He slapped a Sealing Soul Talisman onto the beast, extracting its soul in a fluid motion.
“Im… Immortal…” the girl whispered.
Zhao Lun glanced at her leg. He produced a gourd and flicked a droplet of Spirit Water into her mouth.
“Drink. It will heal you.”
Before she could thank him, he stored the wolf corpse and launched himself back into the sky to find the next target.
“Thank you, Immortal! Thank you!” The girl kowtowed to his retreating figure as her bones knit back together.
Within minutes, the beast tide was broken. The Qingyun Sect disciples moved efficiently, harvesting souls and corpses.
The city was saved, but the damage was severe. Bodies littered the streets. Smoke billowed from ruined homes.
Zhao Lun surveyed the carnage, his heart heavy. If we had been a minute later…
“Bastards!”
A roar of rage thundered from the horizon.
Ten streaks of light shot toward the city, stopping directly above Zhao Lun’s team.
The leader was a Late Foundation Establishment cultivator, flanked by two Mid-stage and two Early-stage subordinates. Behind them were five Qi Refining disciples. They wore matching uniforms emblazoned with the crest of the Zhou Family.
The leader pointed a trembling finger at the dead wolf corpses.
“You filth! Who gave you the courage to slaughter my Zhou Family’s spirit beasts?!”
Zhao Lun froze. He looked at the carnage in the city—the dead mortals, the weeping children. Then he looked up at the arrogant cultivator.
“Spirit beasts?” Zhao Lun asked, his voice dangerously quiet. “You released these monsters into a mortal city on purpose?”
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