Chapter 36 The Hurricane Shows No Mercy

• "Senior Chushi, that man has left the city." In the shadowy depths of a dense forest three *li* (a Chinese unit of distance, approx. 0.5 km) outside Giant Horn City, over a dozen cultivators stood, their eyes glinting with ravenous greed, their killing intent as tangible as mist. One of them bowed to a hook-nosed middle-aged man, his voice low with urgency. Chushi’s gaze sliced through the group like cold steel, sending shivers down their spines. "Listen well—strike the moment he steps into our trap. Hold nothing back. No mistakes. Understood?" "Yes!" they snapped in unison, shrinking under his icy stare. "Hmph, he sold over a thousand beast corpses at Exquisite Pavilion—easily netting over a hundred thousand gold coins. And he met their manager! That woman doesn’t deign to see just anyone. He must’ve traded for something *far* more valuable," Chushi’s voice dripped with temptation. "Take him down, and we won’t lack for cultivation resources for a century." "Kill him!" "Kill him!" "Kill him!" The crowd erupted, their eyes blazing like wolves. Most were rootless drifters, forever scraping for scraps while sects hoarded treasures—desperation made them bold enough to risk everything. Chushi nodded, satisfied. Greed fuels madness; such stakes would make them fight like cornered beasts. "Tan Xuan, you’re surrounded. Fifteen men—one at True Spirit Ninth Layer, the rest below Seventh. Selling all those beasts at Exquisite Pavilion painted a target on your back," Feng Lingzi’s voice echoed in Tan Xuan’s mind. "They’re asking for death," Tan Xuan’s eyes turned frigid. "You handle the Divine Repository Realm one. I’ll clean up the rest." He surged forward without pause. "Attack!" Chushi’s lips curled as Tan Xuan entered the snare. With a thunderous roar, he transformed into a thirty-*zhang* (a Chinese unit of length, approx. 3.3 m) black crow, its feathers oozing putrid death qi, skulls bobbing in the miasma like macabre lanterns. It looked a reaper incarnate, enough to make souls quail. "Screech!" The giant crow let loose a piercing shriek, its wings slamming forward. The death qi corroded even light, staining the surrounding *kilometer* a ghastly green, reeking of rot. "Kill!" "Kill!" "Kill!" The others unleashed their full power, their combined True Spirit auras roaring like a tempest, shattering stone and splitting the air. Hills trembled, and the ground cracked beneath the onslaught. "Begone!" As the crow loomed, a voice thundered—imbued with the weight of gods. A force like the wrath of heaven descended, manifesting as an invisible spear that skewered the crow’s heart. "Screech!" The beast let out a bloodcurdling cry, hurtling backward faster than it came, crashing into a cliff that spiderwebbed with cracks. Chushi reverted to human form mid-fall—a mangled corpse sliding down the rock, trailing a thick red smear that glistened in the dim light. "Dead!" "Senior Chushi is dead!" "How?!" Stunned silence shattered into panic. They’d stumbled into a slaughter. Though they couldn’t fathom how a True Spirit cultivator had instantly killed a Divine Repository expert in a breath, terror propelled them to flee, aborting their attacks mid-cast. "Running so soon?" Tan Xuan’s laugh was cold as he slipped into the "Fallen Leaf Sandstorm State." A howling gale erupted—*a hurricane kilometers tall*, swirling with leaves and sand, a colossal brown pillar that seemed to pierce the clouds. "Boom!" The hurricane lurched forward, devouring trees and boulders in its path, racing after the fugitives with terrifying speed. "Ahh!" In less than a breath, one cultivator was torn to crimson mist, blood raining down like gruesome petals. The storm pressed on, and more screams cut off as bodies were shredded. "Why? How is he this fast?!" The survivors paled, despair etching their faces. Some knelt mid-air, begging for mercy. But the hurricane knew no mercy. It swept through them, painting the sky with blood as their cries choked off. "Fight back!" The True Spirit Ninth Layer cultivator, seeing escape and mercy alike were futile, roared. He poured every drop of mana into his spear, merging with the weapon in a blaze of light that seemed to split the heavens. "Crash!" Spear met hurricane with a thunderclap, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Tan Xuan’s True Spirit Seventh Layer mana faltered—*the storm stalled*. "It stopped! The hurricane stopped!" The man ecstasy, as if clutching a lifeline in darkness. "Don’t fear! He’s weakening!" he shouted, rallying the others. "It *did* stop!" "We’re saved!" "He tricked us with a one-use artifact to kill Chushi!" Greed replaced terror. They wheeled around, hungry to finish him off. "Hmph." From within the storm, Tan Xuan’s voice held icy amusement. He lifted a hand, and a vast black river materialized, crashing down on the Ninth Layer cultivator. The hurricane, meanwhile, swerved to hunt the others. "Kill!" Emboldened, some charged the storm. Reality was brutal. "Why? I refuse to die!" A swordsman watched his blade shatter, then his arm, then his body, as the hurricane swallowed him whole. "He tricked us! He *let* it stall!" The survivors fled again, but the storm was faster—*a hawk chasing rabbits in an open field*. In the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, only the Ninth Layer cultivator remained. The earth below was spattered with fragments of flesh. "You’re… ruthless," he panted, trembling. Tan Xuan’s gaze never wavered. "Feng Lingzi." A dull *splat*—and the last man dissolved into a mist of blood.