Zhang Yuan casually refined Miao Jin's three hun and seven po, his brows drawing together slightly.
Miao Jin was a classic wastrel scion, but his grandfather was, after all, a seventh-realm Blood Furnace Lantern-Lighting Path Cultivator in the Spirit Withering Realm, so he did have some cultivation.
He was at early Soul Tempering, roughly equivalent to early Outer Dao Golden Core.
Although this cultivation was hardly high, it was still cultivation, and his soul should have been stronger and more resilient than an ordinary mortal's. Yet when Zhang Yuan refined Miao Jin's soul, calling it a guttering candle in the wind would have been entirely fair. His entire soul was riddled with holes.
It was clearly the soul of a cultivator comparable to the Outer Dao Golden Core realm, yet the magical power it ultimately yielded was less than he would have gained from refining a lone wandering ghost. Something was obviously wrong.
Was Miao Jin alone like this because his cultivation was inadequate, or were all Blood Furnace Lantern-Lighting Path Cultivators like this?
"This..."
"Y-you-you!"
"You actually killed Young Master Miao!"
Zhang Yuan was not a Blood Furnace Lantern-Lighting Path Cultivator, so there was little point in digging deeper. Hearing the voices beside him, he glanced at the inmates who had been boasting and shooting the breeze with Miao Jin, then gave a surprised murmur.
He had not noticed earlier. Weren't these inmates Imperial City Guards under Miao Jin?
"Indeed, this king killed him. Now, why don't you guess who this king will kill next?" Zhang Yuan nodded slightly and posed the question.
His voice was calm, but to their ears, it was no different from the voices of the demons and ghost deities of the Six Heavens Demon King Palace.
"Mer-"
Bang, bang, bang.
Three explosive reports echoed