Rebirth as a Demonic Cultivator: Starting with a Zombie Planet

Chapter 27: You Seem to Have Some Strength. Which Piece of Trash from the Wuji Sect Are You?

The young cultivator carried twin swords on his back and a perpetual, serene smile on his face.

Among the Qi Condensation disciples of the Shenggang Sect, only one man carried himself with such distinct, hypocritical arrogance. The fourth-ranked inner sect disciple: Ouyang Hao.

In the five years since joining the Sect, his cultivation had skyrocketed, breaking through to the eighth layer of Qi Condensation. But his most defining trait was his absolute, merciless brutality toward Demonic Cultivators. He killed them on sight, without a shred of hesitation.

Since the five great righteous sects had purged the demonic factions, three of the Wuji Sect’s top ten inner disciples had died by Ouyang Hao’s hand. As a result, the surviving Wuji Sect disciples shared a grim consensus: they would rather face a Foundation Establishment expert than cross paths with Ouyang Hao.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator of the righteous path might leave them a sliver of hope for survival. Ouyang Hao, however, always went for the kill.

The Grand Elder of the Shenggang Sect praised him endlessly, publicly declaring that the moment Ouyang Hao reached Foundation Establishment, he would take him as a personal disciple. He was the Shenggang Sect’s rising star. Even the three Qi Condensation disciples ranked above him couldn’t confidently claim they could beat him in a deathmatch.

And now, this rising star had personally arrived at Taiping Market.

He clearly wasn’t here to shop.

Sitting quietly in a nearby teahouse, Chu Xuan wasn’t intimidated. With his current strength, slaughtering Ouyang Hao wouldn’t take much effort. His only concern was whether the smiling swordsman had brought backup. If a Foundation Establishment Elder from the Shenggang Sect was lurking in the shadows, things would get messy.

Weighing the risks, Chu Xuan decided to stay put and watch the play unfold.

Tap. Tap.

Ouyang Hao walked with absolute purpose, heading straight for the teahouse. A Rogue Cultivator happened to step out the door, freezing as he recognized the newcomer. “Ouyang Hao?!”

Ouyang Hao raised a brow, his serene smile never wavering. “Did you know you just ruined a very important surprise?”

The Rogue Cultivator blinked, confused.

Before he could even open his mouth, Ouyang Hao drew his sword. A blinding arc of cold steel flashed. The man’s legs were severed cleanly at the knees.

“I don’t know if you’re colluding with Demonic Cultivators,” Ouyang Hao said mildly, stepping over the screaming man. “So I’ll spare your life for now. We can handle the interrogation later.”

He ignored the wailing cultivator, quickening his pace as he entered the teahouse.

Upstairs, Chen Ge and Wei Hua had been waiting on edge for Zhang Cheng’s arrival. The commotion at the entrance drifted up to them.

“Ouyang Hao!”

The two exchanged a terrified glance. Without a second thought, they vaulted out the nearest window.

Chu Xuan remained in his seat, motionless, taking a slow sip of his tea.

Within breaths, Ouyang Hao strolled onto the second floor. His smiling gaze swept over the remaining patrons like a hawk appraising field mice.

“What are you looking at?” one irritable cultivator snapped, annoyed by the scrutiny.

Ouyang Hao didn’t say a word. His sword simply flashed again.

The cultivator’s right arm detached at the shoulder, hitting the floor with a wet thud. Over the man’s disbelieving shrieks, Ouyang Hao spoke with deadpan politeness. “Shenggang Sect, Ouyang Hao. I am hunting remnants of the Wuji Sect.”

He casually pointed his blood-dripping blade at the screaming man’s remaining shoulder. “Did anyone leave just now?”

The implication was clear: Answer, or lose the other one.

The unlucky cultivator shrieked in terror, “Yes! Yes! Two men jumped out the window! They fled south!”

Ouyang Hao frowned, striding to the window. Sure enough, two figures were already shrinking in the distance, fleeing on flying Magical Artifacts. He tossed a flying sword into the air, stepped onto it, and shot after them.

The teahouse erupted into a panicked buzz. Who was this lunatic to act so brazenly? But as whispers of Ouyang Hao’s identity spread, the room fell into a stunned, breathless silence.

A genius Qi Condensation disciple of the Shenggang Sect. The future personal disciple of the Grand Elder. With that kind of backing, who would dare seek justice? The one-armed cultivator could only grit his teeth, desperately sealing his own acupoints to stop the bleeding, forced to swallow his grievance along with his blood.

Chu Xuan sat quietly. He waited. No second figure leaped out to follow the swordsman.

He rubbed his chin, a cold, calculating gleam in his eyes.

Looks like Ouyang Hao came alone.

What a prime, fattened sheep…

Without another moment of hesitation, Chu Xuan summoned his flying sword and trailed after them, keeping low to the ground.

***

High above, three streaks of light tore through the sky.

Chen Ge and Wei Hua were riding Middle Grade flying Magical Artifacts. Ouyang Hao, however, was a genius backed by a Grand Elder; his gear was naturally top-tier. He rode a High Grade flying Magical Artifact.

The difference in speed was absolute. It didn’t take long for Ouyang Hao to close the distance.

“Wuji Sect trash, time to die!” Ouyang Hao called out. His face still held that gentle smile, but his voice dripped with venom.

He brought two fingers together and thrust them forward in rapid succession.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Several streaks of spiritual energy shot forth, shaped like miniature swords. This was the Shenggang Sect’s signature Middle Grade spell: the Spirit Sword Finger. It cost little spiritual energy, boasted a long range, and struck with blinding speed. Its only flaw was its average destructive power, but for running down fleeing prey, it was flawless.

The barrage of Spirit Sword Fingers rained down like a torrential downpour.

Chen Ge and Wei Hua’s pupils shrank. They dodged frantically, but the sheer volume of the attack boxed them in. With their evasive space shrinking to nothing, they had no choice but to channel their gloomy Yin energy, conjuring a dark, spectral barrier behind them.

The Profound Nether Shield—a mandatory defensive spell for Wuji Sect Qi Condensation disciples.

But they were only at the fourth layer of Qi Condensation. Against an eighth-layer expert, their resistance was laughable.

The shield shattered after taking just two hits. The remaining Spirit Sword Fingers slammed mercilessly into their backs, blasting them off their Magical Artifacts. Coughing up mouthfuls of blood, the two plummeted toward the forest below, their flying artifacts snapping in half.

Ouyang Hao dove after them.

Moments later, in a quiet forest clearing.

Ouyang Hao looked down at the pale, gasping forms of Chen Ge and Wei Hua. His smile widened. He casually tossed a blood-soaked bundle at their feet.

It rolled open, revealing a severed head. Zhang Cheng’s dead eyes stared blankly at the sky.

“I ran into this kid while out on a mission,” Ouyang Hao said mildly. “He was incredibly stubborn. Refused to talk. So, I chopped off his limbs and tossed him into an anthill. It took ten thousand ants biting into his raw flesh before he finally opened his mouth.”

Chen Ge and Wei Hua stared at their friend’s gruesome remains, a suffocating despair crushing their chests.

“You two are pathetic,” Ouyang Hao sighed, shaking his head. “You couldn’t even handle a single volley of my Spirit Sword Fingers. Dragging you back to the Sect wouldn’t even earn me decent contribution points. I might as well just butcher you here.”

Still smiling, he slowly drew the twin swords from his back.

Suddenly, a sharp gale ripped through the clearing.

Ouyang Hao’s expression shifted. He whirled around, slashing his sword in a blinding arc.

Clang!

A stone shattered against his blade, the kinetic force sending a tremor up his arm.

Walking toward him was a cultivator with skin as smooth as pale jade. Yet, there was nothing soft about his features; his eyes were cold, radiating a razor-sharp, predatory aura.

Chen Ge and Wei Hua stared in shock. Someone was actually stepping in to save them?

Ouyang Hao narrowed his eyes, sizing up Chu Xuan. He could feel a faint, prickling sense of danger radiating from this pale newcomer. That meant this man was no ordinary rogue.

“You seem to have some strength,” Ouyang Hao asked, his smile returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Which piece of trash from the Wuji Sect are you?”