How much more so for a powerhouse like the Blood Rain Demon Venerable?
Under everyone's horrified gazes, Fang Yang's figure flickered again and again as his Dharma Body struck repeatedly.
Whatever their cultivation realm, the Demon Cult disciples were no more than ants before him, crushed to death with ease!
Blood rained from the sky, dripping onto the ground. Accompanied by wave after wave of screams, it formed a scene of gruesome beauty.
He swept through them like a storm through rotten wood, striking with the crushing might of thunder.
Before long, Fang Yang had slaughtered every Demon Cult disciple who had stepped forward.
Broken corpses lay everywhere, and blood flowed outside the Demon Venerable Pavilion.
It trickled down from the great hall through the gaps between the bricks.
The sight inevitably brought a certain saying to mind.
The Demon Venerable Pavilion was built upon torrents of blood and heaps of white bones. The Demon Venerable's throne meant slaughter!
A moment later, Fang Yang stood atop the Bell of All Life again, his face still pale and blood still staining his lips.
But now, not a single person dared question his authority.
Instead, they trembled with fear, as though treading on thin ice.
They obediently lowered their heads, not even daring to meet the Demon Venerable's eyes.
Even Zhang Sheng no longer cared about all those people calling him an ugly thing earlier. His face was deathly pale.
With a thud, he dropped to his knees before Fang Yang.
He would have gladly licked Fang Yang's shoes.
He slapped his own face over and over.
"Demon Venerable, I was wrong! A moment's folly led me to commit this terrible mistake. Please spare my life!"
"I swear I'll never dare do it again..."
He pleaded desperately, forcing down the anger and hatred in his eyes, while his heart turned ice-cold.
Then...
Whoosh!
An afterimage flashed.
In the blink of an eye, a figure appeared before him, looking at him with a smile.
"You've lost your nerve already? How boring!"
"By rights, you've rendered countless services to the Demon Cult, so I really should spare you. But do you remember what I taught you before?"
"When cutting weeds, you must pull out the roots!"
Fang Yang murmured the words one by one, gripping Zhang Sheng by the neck and lifting him into the air.
Zhang Sheng struggled desperately. The black longsword behind him, which had already developed a little spiritual awareness, tried to resist.
Fang Yang glanced at it, and it shattered on the spot.
Its fragments fell to the ground.
Immediately afterward, Fang Yang pointed a finger. A black thread flew from his fingertip and shot into Zhang Sheng's forehead.
The instant the thread entered him, it took root and sprouted like a seed, spreading without end.
Soon, it grew into a towering tree, tearing madly through Zhang Sheng's flesh and meridians. His skin cracked almost inch by inch, blood pouring out.
"Aaaah!!!"
Zhang Sheng let out an utterly harrowing scream.
His face turned deathly pale, while Fang Yang spoke coldly.
"This is called Demon Thread, a little trick of mine. It comes alive upon contact with blood, then grows wildly. That growth tends to cause tremendous pain."
"I couldn't be bothered to use this move, but of all the things you could have done, you had to set your sights on the Princess Consort. Worse still, you bribed subordinates with a basic Demon Cult cultivation manual to test me. That was the greatest insult you could have offered me!"
"So be a good boy and go to your death!"
Rrrip! Rrrip!
The Demon Thread grew wildly, leaving Zhang Sheng in such agony that he wished he were dead.
His face contorted hideously.
He felt as though a great tree were growing inside his body, feeding on his flesh and blood.
And so, amid that unbearable agony, his consciousness gradually blurred, until only one thought remained in his mind.
When did I ever bribe subordinates with a basic Demon Cult cultivation manual?
Why do I feel like this part of the story isn't flowing well? Those of you who've read this far, tell me how you feel. This is really upsetting.
Chapter 29: Please show me tenderness, Demon Venerable
The wind blew gently.
Below the Demon Venerable Pavilion, corpses lay everywhere.
Blood covered the bluestone paving slabs, and its stench permeated the air.
Silence. Deathly stillness.
Everything seemed frozen in place.
The Demon Cult disciples stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at the figure hovering in the air, his black hair whipping wildly.
They remembered the terror of being ruled by the Demon Venerable, and fell silent as cicadas in the cold.
As for the three remaining guardians...
They, too, trembled with fear.
Cunning. Far too cunning!
Sure enough, that fiend was sinister and deceitful to the extreme.
His supposed weakness had all been a lie!
This had merely been a test of theirs-or perhaps a game-for the fiend.
He had simply sat high upon his throne, watching coldly as they capered about like clowns on a stage.
Once he had enjoyed the show enough, or grown bored, he casually killed them.
Fortunately, they had restrained themselves earlier. Otherwise, they would have been among those lying on the ground now.
The White Bone Elder's expression darkened, and he drew a deep breath.
He tucked the white bead in his hand into his sleeve.
The middle-aged man's eyes were grave as well. He felt that this fiend was becoming more terrifying by the day.
He spoke through voice transmission.
"That fiend is far too cunning. To think he devised such a vicious scheme! After this battle, I fear his shadow will sink deep into everyone's hearts."
"Yes, deep inside..."
Huang Fuling murmured, her voice trembling slightly.
The middle-aged man found his wife's voice a little strange, but thought little of it and continued.
"As long as the green hills remain, we needn't fear running out of firewood. We can keep lying low. Aren't you skilled with poisons? Once we find an opportunity, we can use Heartbreak Powder to subdue this fiend."
"Yes, use Pleasure Powder to conquer this fiend..."
Another murmured reply.
At last, the middle-aged man noticed something was wrong.
He assumed his wife had been frightened senseless and confused the poisons' names.
But when he turned to look, he found his wife gazing raptly at the figure hovering overhead.
Her eyes brimmed with desire, and a blush stained her fair cheeks.
She seemed utterly intoxicated.
"???"
The middle-aged man's face darkened at once.
He spoke through voice transmission.
"What's going on? Don't forget, our mission is to kill this fiend..."
"Is it? Then why do I remember our mission being to uncover this fiend's secrets and take over the Blood Rain Cult if necessary?"
The woman came back to her senses and spoke softly.
"Yes, we are here to investigate! But don't forget, you're my wife now. Are you really going to put a cuckold's green hat on my head?"
The middle-aged man was visibly agitated.
Huang Fuling smiled and said,
"Then don't you forget either: we're only pretending to be husband and wife while undercover in the Demon Cult. Have you really started thinking you can tell me what to do?"
"You!"
The middle-aged man trembled with anger. He stared at Huang Fuling for a long while before finally saying helplessly,
"Fuling, we've been undercover here for six years. Three years, then another three. You must know how I feel about you. Just what does this fiend have that I don't? Why do you like him but not me?"
"You're ugly."
Huang Fuling uttered only those two words.
Yuan Heng froze on the spot, his expression shifting uncertainly. He wanted to argue, but had no idea what to say.
In the end, he could only clench his fists and glare at the figure in the sky, his eyes filled with hatred, wishing he could devour him alive and strip off his skin.
Finally, he drew a deep breath and said coldly.
Before you continue