Godslayer: Reincarnated with SSS Rank Cultivation System

The radiant energy surged uncontrollably through Wen Ran's body, making him feel as if the world was beneath his feet. Though it was far from reality now, who was to say he wouldn't reach that pinnacle in the future?

"I'm growing stronger..." A grin crept across his face as he rose to his feet. He glanced around the room, taking in the complete devastation. The room was now nothing but rubble, and even the corpse of his victim was gone, obliterated into nothingness. Whoever created this heaven-defying technique must have been a genius unmatched by this world. If they're still alive, I'd bow before them. If they're dead, I'd visit their grave to pay my respects. With this power... who knows how far I'll go?

Taking a deep breath, Wen Ran picked up the black sword lying among the debris. It seemed to gleam more brilliantly than before, its aura refined by the wrath of the lightning tribulation. The sword's domineering power resonated deeply with him, as though the weapon was a reflection of his newfound strength.

With a simple push, the heavy door fell outward with a loud thud, revealing a room filled with kneeling guards and servants. Blood dripped from their eyes and noses, their bodies trembling under the overwhelming pressure that still lingered in the air.

"Are they deaf and blind?" Wen Ran muttered, his eyes scanning the group. Their shallow breaths betrayed the fact that they were still alive, but they were little more than lambs waiting for the slaughter. A wicked grin tugged at his lips as his blade moved, elegant yet merciless. One by one, they fell, and with each kill, Wen Ran felt their cultivation bases rush into his body. The crimson brilliance of his technique wrapped around the energy, refining it into his own, solidifying his foundation instead of destabilizing it.

Let me test this new blood control power, he thought, his finger twitching slightly. The blood of his victims floated into the air, suspended in shimmering droplets. It wasn't much—barely enough to fill a few gourds—but it moved at his command.

I can mold it easily—turn it from liquid into sharp, solid blades. This power is perfect for fighting multiple enemies. Even a single drop of blood could become a deadly weapon, slicing a throat before anyone notices. It's the ultimate assassination tool... or a means to create an army of blood-forged weapons. He paused, furrowing his brow. But the drawback… this consumes too much spiritual energy. I can't use it recklessly in prolonged battles.

Despite his musings, Wen Ran didn't forget the real threat. The old monster, Fang Jinyao's grandfather, was still alive. Wen Ran's memory of being choked and humiliated by that man was vivid, and he had no intention of letting it go unpunished. He planned to return that humiliation tenfold.

His sharp gaze swept the surroundings. Barely moments had passed since the lightning struck, yet the palace and the city outside were in utter disarray. Two consecutive disasters had left even the strongest cultivators disoriented, as though the world itself was collapsing.

Suddenly, Wen Ran felt an overwhelming aura rushing toward the hall. Is it that old dog? His sneer deepened. Now that he had reached the mythical tenth circle of Spirit Gathering, he no longer feared those above his level. Even so, he wasn't foolish enough to engage someone so powerful head-on. Striking from the shadows wasn't honorable, but it was smart—and Wen Ran valued results over principles.

Moving swiftly, he pulled several corpses on top of himself, masking his presence. Blood smeared his robes, but he didn't care. His breathing slowed as he waited, his senses sharp and focused.

The aura grew stronger, and soon heavy footsteps echoed in the hall.

"What the hell happened here?" The voice was old but carried a weight of authority and rage. "My clan folk… all dead… Who is responsible for this? Show yourself!" The old man's roar was laced with spiritual energy, shaking the walls and filling the air with oppressive pressure.

For Wen Ran, however, the pressure was now bearable. His newly tempered body and strengthened foundation allowed him to endure it with relative ease. He waited silently, watching the man's every move from his hiding spot.

The old man roared again, his voice trembling with fury and pain. "Show yourself, you bastard, and kneel before me!" His words echoed through the hall, filled with desperation and rage, as if his reasoning had been swallowed by the grief in his heart.

That old dog… he's stronger than I anticipated, Wen Ran thought, his sharp gaze fixed on the approaching figure. He's definitely in the Spirit Refinement stage. I can't tell which circle, but taking him down won't be easy. Two major realms above me... I'll have to rely on an assassination. A direct fight is out of the question.

The old man's movements betrayed his vigilance. He felt the powerful aura from earlier but couldn't sense it anymore. Whoever this is, they've managed to hide their presence completely. That's only possible for someone in my realm or higher. Despite his bravado, a deep fear churned in his gut. He would have fled if not for the spiritual message from his father, ordering him to handle the intruder.

He carefully stepped through the piles of corpses, his eyes scanning every shadow, his mind racing. He couldn't find his son's body. Perhaps he's still alive? Maybe he fled before the carnage... He clung to a sliver of hope as he pressed forward.

But as he moved past a heap of bodies, his instincts screamed. His entire body shivered, and he dodged to the side just in time. A massive crimson blade shot out from beneath the corpses, piercing his chest and narrowly missing his heart. Blood sprayed from the wound as he staggered back, his face twisting in pain and rage.

Well, this isn't ideal… Wen Ran cursed inwardly. His grip on his emotions slipped for just a moment, letting a sliver of killing intent leak out—enough to alert the old man.

Pushing the corpses aside, Wen Ran stood up, his blade gleaming with malevolence. Without wasting a second, he launched another attack, sending a stream of blood toward the old man's throat. But the elder reacted quickly, channeling spiritual energy into his hand to catch the blood midair.

He caught it? Wen Ran smirked. Let's see if he can handle this.

With a flick of his finger, the liquid blood turned solid, morphing into a sharp edge. It slashed at the old man's arm, severing it cleanly at the shoulder.

"AAAARRRGGGHHH!" The old man's agonized scream echoed through the hall as blood gushed from the wound. Rage and desperation filled his eyes as he clutched at the stump of his arm. With a furious roar, he unleashed a massive explosion of spiritual energy, thick and oppressive, forcing Wen Ran to step back. The surge disrupted his control over his own energy momentarily.

Turning to face his attacker fully, the old man froze. Recognition and horror spread across his face as he stammered, "Y-you! How… how is this possible? You—dirty slave!"

Wen Ran's expression remained cold, devoid of emotion. "What, surprised?" His voice dripped with mockery as he stepped closer, the crimson glow of his blade casting eerie shadows across his pale face. "I'm here to claim your life, old dog. Are you ready to die? If so, then get on your knees and let me end you."

The old man's aura flared with a mix of fury and fear, the air around him crackling with oppressive energy. Both men locked eyes, their killing intent palpable, suffocating the space around them. They knew what was coming next: a battle where only one of them would leave standing.