The old Taoist Xuanzhi’s pupils shrank as he desperately summoned a tortoise-shell-shaped defensive treasure, its runes glowing with a heavy protective aura.
“Pfft…”
Yet, under Chen Ping’s sword, the supposedly invincible tortoise shell tore like paper, the Dragon-Slaying Sword cleaving through unabated, severing Xuanzhi’s head.
In the distance, the battered Savage King of Cracked Mountain, seeing Xuanzhi’s head fall, paled, struggling to rise and flee.
But after a few steps, a sword light flashed towards him.
“Pfft…”
The Savage King’s massive head was sliced clean off, tumbling to the ground.
Lady Meixin, spitting blood, trembled in terror at the demonic Chen Ping.
“Please, spare me, I’ll follow you forever, serve you.”
“Our Blood Shadow Palace is full of female cultivators, yours to toy with as you please, as many as you want.”
“Spare me, and I’ll serve you too, my body’s still untouched!”
Her eyes brimmed with seductive charm, gazing at Chen Ping.
She hoped this would secure her survival.
She didn’t want to die, not after years of cultivation, on the verge of breaking through to Loose Immortal, ascending from the Third Heaven to the Fourth, becoming a true immortal.
“Hmph, you think I’m like this foolish kid, swayed by women?”
Chen Ping sneered, his voice that of the Crimson Cloud Demon Lord.
Possessed by the Demon Lord, such seduction was useless.
“Pfft…”
A flash of sword light, and Lady Meixin’s head fell.
In mere moments, three ninth-grade Loose Immortal powerhouses were obliterated by the possessed Chen Ping.
The world fell silent, everyone staring in stunned disbelief, minds blank.
A fourth-grade Loose Immortal slaying three ninth-grade Loose Immortals!
Was this… even human?
Mo Qingyun gazed at the figure in the void, wreathed in black flames like a demon god, tears streaming down her face.
She didn’t know what price Chen Ping had paid, but she knew he’d unleashed this terrifying power to protect her once again.
“Chen Ping…”
She whispered, her voice thick with worry and pain.
Chen Ping slowly turned, looking at Mo Qingyun, the red glow in his eyes fading, the black patterns on his face vanishing, his body reverting to normal, though his face was deathly pale.
“I’m fine…”
He forced a smile, recalling the two battered warriors, then approached the three corpses, sword in hand.
After looting their resources, he collected their heads.
“Tianyanzong, Barbaric Ancient Clan, Blood Shadow Palace, when I reach the Third Heaven, you’ll be the first I destroy!”
His eyes burned with murderous intent.
The distant onlookers froze in fear, none daring to approach or covet the ancient ruins’ treasures.
Catching Chen Ping’s gaze, they turned to flee.
“Stop…” Chen Ping’s icy voice rang out.
Those two words halted the dozen cultivators, none daring to move, knowing Chen Ping could end them with a flick of his finger.
“Leave your resources, then get lost…”
Chen Ping commanded.
The cultivators, without hesitation, tossed their storage bags at his feet and fled.
Chen Ping gathered the bags, then spat a mouthful of blood.
“Chen Ping…” Mo Qingyun rushed to support him.
“To the Eight Halls…”
Chen Ping’s voice was faint.
This battle had left him gravely wounded, the Demon Lord’s possession ravaging his body, he needed a safe place to recover slowly.
