It was unlikely that anyone would demand justice for the deaths of these mortals. The orthodox factions, who might have cared enough to intervene, were too fearful to send powerful cultivators, given the looming threat of war. The bloody old man, Li Fan, understood this well. No Heavenly Eye cultivator would come to stop him; the weaker ones who had tried had already been consumed, adding to his cultivation instead.
In the grand scheme of things, mortals were little more than tools to be used and discarded at will. Would a farmer risk his life to save a single hoe among hundreds? It was simply nonsensical. With this mindset, Li Fan was content to continue his gruesome work, slowly absorbing the life essence of the people he slaughtered. Even if it took years, he was confident that he would reach the Dao Lord realm quickly, becoming the fifth Dao Lord in the competition. The thought of victory made him salivate with anticipation.
“Li Fan, you fiend, they’ll come for you,” a weak voice interrupted his thoughts. It was the woman chained to the wall, her body battered and bruised, yet her spirit unbroken.
Li Fan turned to her, his face twisted with mockery. “Have you forgotten, you pitiful excuse for a sect leader? I’ve reduced your disciples and allies to dust.”
He approached her with a lustful expression, his bloodstained face and balding head making him appear even more grotesque. “Do you remember how they screamed? ‘Save me, Sect Leader! Sect Leader, run while I hold back the demon! Sect Leader, why is this happening to us?’” he taunted, relishing her suffering. “The only reason you’re still alive is to satisfy my needs.”
As he reached out to touch her, she spit on him, her defiance shining through despite her weakened state. “It’s not about sect members or orthodox or unorthodox. They will come for you.”
Li Fan’s expression darkened with rage. He kicked her savagely, but she refused to cry out, denying him the satisfaction of seeing her break. “WHO ARE THEY? HAVE YOU GONE INSANE?!”
She coughed up blood, leaning back against the wall as she struggled to speak. “I sent everything I had of value to the Guild of Elysium a long time ago.”
Li Fan’s eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He knew of the Guild of Elysium, an organization that accepted tasks in exchange for rewards. They posted requests, and members of the guild completed them. He grabbed her by the head, his grip tight as he looked her dead in the eye, madness gleaming in his gaze. “I was planning to leave, but now… Now I’ll stay here and make you watch as the fools you summoned die. I’ll kill them and skin them alive just to show you that you caused their deaths.”
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He threw her against the wall with a sneer, but she smirked in return, knowing what was about to happen. As if on cue, the door to the courtyard swung open with a deafening screech.
Skreee…
The sound of metal scraping against the ground echoed through the thick fog, an ominous noise that sent chills down Li Fan’s spine. He immediately adopted a defensive stance, his senses heightened. Whoever had opened the door was fast—faster than he could detect with his Divine Sense, which he had spread over a thousand meters around the courtyard. This meant the intruder had covered that distance in an instant.
Behind him, the woman began to laugh, a sound filled with vindication. “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of your death approaching.”
In the Wildlands, there was only one individual known for such a sound. From the depths of the fog, a figure began to emerge, accompanied by heavy, deliberate footsteps.
THUNK
THUNK
The figure finally stepped into view, revealing a man clad in armor made of a crystal-like material that glowed with a distinct yellow hue. His helmet bore three slashes down the middle, as if some creature had clawed at it, giving him a fearsome appearance.
“Who are you? Reveal yourself!” Li Fan demanded, his voice laced with anger as tendrils of blood began to emerge from his back.
“Others call me Ellia,” came the reply, the voice metallic and devoid of emotion. The figure, now fully visible, was unlike anything Li Fan had ever seen.
The woman chained to the wall began to celebrate, her voice filled with triumph. “You’re dead! They’ve sent the Heavenfallen Knight!”
Ellia’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “You will know me as your executioner.” With that, he effortlessly lifted the massive great-sword he had been dragging, the blade moving with a speed that belied its weight.
Li Fan felt a sudden surge of rage. A mere swordsman was daring to speak down to him, the blood demon? “Don’t bluff. You may wield a large sword, but I can see from your stance that you lack any semblance of technique. I know you’re just a junior in the Quasi Spiritual Awakening realm. Run along before I absorb your blood essence.”
Ellia began to walk towards him, each step deliberate and unhurried. “Come, face your death at the hands of a ‘fake’ swordsman,” he declared, his voice carrying a chilling certainty, as if he were stating an inevitable fact.
Li Fan knew he couldn’t allow Ellia to get close. Swordsmen typically needed proximity to strike effectively. “DIE!” he roared, sending the blood tendrils shooting towards Ellia, intending to pierce him through.
Snap
Crack
The tendrils, however, proved too weak. They merely shattered upon impact with Ellia’s armor, like brittle twigs against the hide of a beast. Ellia continued his advance, unimpeded, closing the distance between Li Fan and the death that awaited him.