Pay-to-Win Cultivation: I Get 10,000x Returns

Baoyuan Zhenren tracked the trajectory of the charging “Elder Chen.” She was coming from the exact direction where Song Zhang and Lu Yao’s signals had vanished.

Baoyuan’s heart skipped a beat. A chill shot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

It’s over. Song Zhang and the others are likely dead.

And now, this madwoman was coming for him.

Baoyuan let out a fierce roar. Without hesitation, he summoned his flying sword. Sword light exploded outward, instantly sealing off Elder Chen’s path. His gaze was sharp as a hawk’s, and the crushing Spirit Pressure of a Second Stage Nascent Soul cultivator erupted with a boom.

“Elder Chen! Have you seen the disciples from Jinchan Palace? What have you done to them?!”

His mind raced, calculating rapidly. Elder Chen is also at the Second Stage of Nascent Soul, but she has been eroded by [Hatred]. Her mind is chaotic, her combat instincts surely impaired. I possess the orthodox inheritance of Guizang Palace. As long as I am careful to avoid contamination by the [Hatred], the odds are in my favor.

However, contrary to his expectations, the charging Elder Chen seemed startled by his sudden display of power.

She abruptly slammed to a halt, retreating instantly to create distance. She held her long sword horizontally in a defensive stance, staring at him, yet showed no intention of attacking.

Baoyuan’s eyes narrowed. “Elder Chen, if you still retain even a shred of consciousness, surrender immediately! Return to the Sect with me!”

The puppet stood rigidly, offering no response.

Baoyuan pressed on, his voice booming. “The erosion by [Hatred] is not your fault. The Sect will find a way to purge it. But if you persist in your delusion, do not blame my sword for being merciless!”

Still, the “Elder Chen” opposite him remained silent. She simply stared at him with vacant, wooden eyes. The spiritual light on her blade flickered erratically—as if she were hesitating.

Or perhaps… waiting for something.

Baoyuan Zhenren’s frown deepened, the unease in his gut twisting into a knot. Everything about this situation reeked of strangeness. What exactly was she trying to do?

Meanwhile, deep in the forest.

Song Zhang stared fixedly at the figure hovering in mid-air.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, a peerless beauty by any standard, but Song Zhang had no mind to appreciate her looks. His heart was drowning in a tidal wave of terror and regret.

How could I have been so bewitched? Why did I listen to Lu Yao and leave the main group?

Now they had encountered a threat, but it wasn’t a beast. It was a Nascent Soul cultivator. And looking at her aura, they were all going to die here.

Lu Yao looked up at the newcomer, her face a mask of confusion. This… this was unexpected. It wasn’t Elder Chen. It was a complete stranger—a woman so beautiful she didn’t seem real.

She wore robes as white as driven snow. Her features were exquisite, like a painting come to life, yet her eyes were colder than thousand-year-old ice.

Her jet-black hair was tied loosely with a white silk ribbon, dancing wildly in the fierce gale. At the tips of her hair, tiny, violet arcs of lightning flickered and jumped. Swirling around her body was a terrifying purple-black aura, a twisted fusion of pure thunder and the maddening energy of [Hatred].

“Long Zhi?”

Zi Xiao gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

Zi Xiao hailed from the Southern Region and had been famous for her beauty since childhood. Years ago, she had caught a glimpse of Long Zhi—the erratic genius of the Dragon Clan. It was the first time Zi Xiao had ever felt inferior. That cold, solitary temperament was unforgettable.

Standing in the back, Zhang Xian—wearing the face of the fat disciple Yu Yun—was equally astonished.

Why is she here?

The System had hinted that Long Zhi survived and drifted to the Central Continent, but he never expected to reunite with her here, deep within the Ashen Wild Forest.

What alarmed him more was her state.

The aura radiating from her was chaotic. Within the vast, pure power of her Thunder Qi, there were distinct threads of [Hatred]. Deep within those icy eyes lay a boiling, suppressed killing intent.

Using [Hatred] to temper her Thunder Arts? What audacity.

Zhang Xian understood instantly.

She was truly a Peerless Genius with 93 Destiny Points. She was using the natural thunder and heavenly fire of the Jinye Forest, combined with her own Thunder Spirit Root, to forcefully absorb and refine the violent resentment of [Hatred]. She was trying to turn a curse into a weapon.

It was dancing on the edge of a blade.

And clearly, she had overplayed her hand. The corrosive power of [Hatred] far exceeded her calculations. Even with her Thunder Arts to suppress it, she had lost control.

The current Long Zhi was walking the fine line between genius and monster.

Song Zhang looked at this beautiful, lethal woman, and felt his courage shatter. He suppressed his trembling and roared hoarsely, “Everyone, listen to me! The moment she attacks, scatter and flee! If even one survives, it’s a victory! GO!”

He had only one thought: Run! This woman is a monster!

However, the moment his words fell, Long Zhi moved.

She raised a pale, jade-like hand.

Crackle!

Instantly, massive nets of violet lightning materialized from thin air. The thunder nets expanded, covering a radius of several hundred zhang, sealing off all escape routes in a cage of crackling death.

Song Zhang’s face turned as pale as paper. Cornered, his last shred of bloodlust ignited.

“AAARGH!”

With a mad roar, he burned his blood essence, unleashing every ounce of spiritual power he possessed. He summoned his life-bound flying sword, the blade glowing with desperate brilliance as he charged at the lightning cage.

“Fall.”

Long Zhi’s red lips parted slightly. A single, cold word.

BOOM!

A bolt of lightning, thick as a water bucket, crashed down from the heavens with pinpoint accuracy.

“Gah—!”

Song Zhang didn’t even have time to scream. The lightning struck him dead center. His hair stood on end, his body convulsed violently, and he collapsed with a heavy thud, smoke rising from his blackened form.

Instant defeat.

The strongest member of the team, a Peak Golden Core cultivator, had been swatted like a fly.

Lu Yao, Zi Xiao, and the three other disciples froze. They stared at the charred twitching body of Song Zhang, then up at the emotionless goddess of thunder. The sheer terror made them forget how to breathe.

Lu Yao was completely bewildered.

This… this isn’t in the plan! Who is this woman? She wasn’t in the Senior’s script!

She instinctively looked at “Yu Yun.” The little fatty looked scared out of his mind. Lu Yao felt panic rising in her throat. She couldn’t tell if the Senior was acting or if they were actually screwed.

Zi Xiao’s expression was grim. She saw the lack of humanity in Long Zhi’s eyes.

Quietly, her hand crept to her waist. There, she kept a [Realm-Crossing Shuttle] given to her by Yang Poxiao. It could tear through space and transport her to safety instantly. The cost of using it was enormous, but she had no choice.

I’m sorry, Sister Lu, Zi Xiao thought, her fingers tightening around the jade shuttle.

She prepared to crush it.

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

Several incredibly faint sounds cut through the air.

Before Zi Xiao could exert force, her vision went black. She went limp and collapsed to the ground. Beside her, Lu Yao and the other disciples also slumped over, instantly unconscious.

Zhang Xian lowered his hand. He had flicked invisible bursts of Qi to knock them all out precisely.

In an instant, the only person left standing in the clearing was the fat disciple, Yu Yun.

Long Zhi’s icy gaze drifted down to him. Her brow furrowed slightly, seemingly puzzled by why this weak ant was still standing.

Zhang Xian sighed. He slowly raised a hand to his face.

Under Long Zhi’s cold, murderous stare, he wiped his hand across his features. The illusion dissolved like smoke. The chubby cheeks and dull eyes vanished, replaced by a handsome, calm, and steady face.

He looked up at the woman wrapped in violet lightning and hatred, and gave a small, sad wave.

“It has been a long time, Fellow Daoist Long.”

But there was no flicker of recognition in her eyes.

Long Zhi didn’t speak. She simply raised her sword—the very same Middle Grade Spirit Sword Zhang Xian had upgraded for her years ago.

Thunder Qi gathered frantically around the blade, crackling with the promise of annihilation.

Zhang Xian watched her prepare to strike, and his heart sank.

It seems my old friend’s condition is far worse than I thought.