Mountain-Viewing Realm!

Ten miles of open wilderness lay north of Jingyang.

A violent blast of air erupted in ripples, shaking the standing water into a sky full of white mist.

An old man in a black cloak stood in midair, a four-sided Patterned-Iron Mace in his hand.

The mace was dark and heavy, with neither blade nor edge.

Yet it carried a weight beyond words.

A hundred yards away, facing him,

a middle-aged scholar in Confucian robes stood suspended in the air.

But his robes were already in tatters, exposing a body thick with black hair.

His once-refined face hung like melted wax, with one hideous goat's eye bulging through it.

The scholar still held half an uneaten human heart. It was faintly beating.

He stuffed it into his mouth and chewed, juices spraying everywhere, his face showing he wanted more.

"We've had no quarrel in the past and no grudge of late."

"I was merely passing through. I got hungry, so I helped myself to a few two-legged sheep for a snack."

"It was only a few hundred people, and none of them were imperial kin. Is that worth hounding me like this?"

The old man's face remained blank. He merely raised the Patterned-Iron Mace in his hand.

"Since you ate them, leave your life behind as payment."

The Ghost Gold Demon King laughed.

"I admit it. Thirty years ago, if I'd seen you, I'd have bowed my head and fled as far as I could."

"But now... how much of your Mountain-Viewing Realm strength do you have left?"

The old man did not grow angry. The iron mace hummed in his hand.

"To kill you?"

"Enough."

His words fell.

The black cloak billowed, and he vanished in an instant.

When he appeared again, he was three feet above the Ghost