A Pseudo-Benevolent Old Dog Hid a Poisonous Heart, His Ferocity Shattered the Trapping Kill Array

Bloodrock Market.

A dilapidated long street stretched all the way into the deepest reaches of Miasma Forest.

On both sides of the street stood crude shops built from enormous demon beast ribs and tattered cloth.

The ground was caked with blackened, stinking mud. In the puddles, one could even see the entrails of unknown wild beasts.

Independent cultivators in all manner of worn-out Daoist robes weaved back and forth through the mud pits.

On the left, a scar-faced man missing an arm had a low-level cultivator by the throat, screaming curses over half a low-grade spirit stone.

On the right, several black-clad bandit cultivators were forcibly stuffing bloodstained magical artifacts they had just seized through murder and robbery into a pawnshop keeper's storage pouch.

The air reeked of the scorched bitterness of low-quality pills, along with the blood stench that never faded.

There was none of the sanctimonious decorum of immortal sects here.

There was only the most primitive, savage law of the jungle. Whoever had the bigger fist was the boss.

Lu Chen carried that enormous black lump on his back, his sturdy upper body bare as he strode down the middle of the main street.

The thirty-thousand-jin City-Guarding Stele weighed upon his broad back.

The century-old Black-Iron Chain wrapped around his body scraped with a teeth-grinding sound as he walked.

With every step he took, his black-iron-like feet crushed a vast web of cracks into the bluestone slabs.

The dull thuds of his footsteps sounded like an ancient colossal beast beating a war drum.

The earth trembled in rhythm beneath them.

The independent cultivators around him, who had been fighting over territory and living by the blade, felt that overbearing, unreasonable aura of pure physical might and had their scalps go numb.

The crowd scattered with a rustle,