Godslayer: Reincarnated with SSS Rank Cultivation System

Wen Ran moved slowly, his every step measured, yet there was something unsettling about his pace. The air around him pulsed with an eerie crimson glow, the blood of his victims swirling in the streets, coating the stone beneath his feet in a deep, unholy red. The unlucky ones who crossed his path barely had a moment to scream before they were sent to meet their ancestors, their lives snuffed out like candle flames.

At the city gates, another slaughter had begun.

The Wu Clan's small army pushed through with ruthless efficiency, cutting down anyone who dared stand in their way. Those who did not drop to their knees in submission were torn apart like insects beneath their boots. Their advance was as swift as it was brutal, leaving nothing but corpses in their wake.

"Young Master, something feels... off about this place," murmured a man standing beside Wu Xiaohui. His brows furrowed, unease creeping into his expression as he took in the chaos. The thick scent of blood in the air, the lingering trace of something far more sinister—it all felt wrong.

"What nonsense are you blabbering about?" Wu Xiaohui sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. His blade swung effortlessly, cutting down another fleeing cultivator without so much as a second glance. The laughter that followed was unhinged, bordering on madness. His eyes, if one looked closely, had a strange, cloudy quality to them, as if a mist had settled over his vision.

"They run like frightened chickens before my might!" He raised his sword high, the blood still fresh on the blade gleaming under the flickering flames that had begun to spread through the city. "Burn it all! Let them tremble at my name!" His voice carried across the ruins like a curse upon the dying. "The heavens and earth are nothing to me! I, Wu Xiaohui, will be the strongest in the world!"

The sword in Wu Xiaohui's hand trembled, as if responding to his madness. Flames danced higher, swallowing buildings whole. The city was already in ruins, yet the destruction had only begun.

Wen Ran's cold smile deepened. Everything was going exactly as he wanted. Soon, his mission would be complete, and he'd leave nothing but ashes in his wake.

But then—his black blade met something different.

A middle-aged woman stood before him, her presence still and unmoving, as if she had been waiting for him all along. At first glance, she looked like nothing special. Simple robes, no fancy ornaments. To an outsider, she could have easily been mistaken for a beggar.

But Wen Ran wasn't fooled.

Peak of Spirit Flow.

His temples throbbed as her presence crashed over him like a tidal wave. What the hell is someone at this level doing here?

His fingers tightened around his sword. He carefully observed her, his instincts screaming at him that she wasn't just another passerby. She wasn't running like the others. She had no fear in her eyes. If anything… she looked disappointed.

"Junior," her voice was calm, almost emotionless. "Your actions are vile and ruthless. You have fallen too far down the wrong path. But it is not too late. If you agree to join my sect, we can still bring you back."

Wen Ran scoffed. A sect? At a time like this?

He tilted his head, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Senior, I appreciate the offer, but I have no plans of joining any sect." His grip on his sword loosened slightly, but he remained alert. She's too strong. I need to find a way around this.

He glanced at the burning city, then back at her.

"How about this?" His voice was calm, but the threat lingered beneath his words. "You leave, and I won't waste my time on you. I have unfinished business here. Let me deal with these people, and I promise, there will be no need for unnecessary bloodshed."

His crimson eyes locked onto hers, watching for even the slightest reaction. If she refused—if she stood in his way—then Wen Ran knew he would have to kill her. Even if it meant pushing himself beyond his limits.

"What an ungrateful brat you are..." The woman's face twisted in disgust. In all her years, no one had ever dared to refuse her. "Do you even know who you're talking to? Do you understand which sect stands behind me? You're throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to soar to the heavens."

She hated Wen Ran. But even she couldn't deny his potential. A talent like his didn't just fall from the sky. If she could bring him in, she'd be greatly rewarded. To her, Wen Ran wasn't just a person—he was an opportunity, a golden pig waiting to be taken back to the sect.

Wen Ran's eyes flickered toward the group entering the city, and a sharp glint flashed in his gaze. If anyone saw him now, they might have sworn they could see a fox tail wagging behind him. Two birds, one stone.

"Then how about this?" His voice was light, casual even, yet laced with hidden intent. "If senior helps me wipe that group out," He pointed at the Wu Clan, "And ensures this village burns to the ground, I'll gladly follow you back to your sect. You have my word."

He smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile. It wasn't a threatening one, either. It was unreadable, a veil of deception that made it impossible to tell what he was really thinking.

The woman's eyes gleamed. She followed his gaze toward the approaching group. Their strongest member was at the peak of Spirit Flow Stage—a joke in her eyes. She was confident in her own abilities. Perhaps even overconfident.

"Junior brother," she cooed, flashing him a warm smile. "I'm glad you've come to your senses. But don't even think about going back on your word. If you do, this big sister will make sure you suffer a fate worse than death."

Without another word, she shot forward, her figure blurring as she leaped gracefully into the air. A simple-looking sword appeared in her hand, and with a single motion, she crashed down upon the Wu Clan's forces.

Heh... what an idiot. As if I'd ever join your shitty sect. Wen Ran sneered inwardly. Once the chance presents itself, I'll kill you along with the rest of them.

For now, he turned back to his slaughter. The blood around him swirled like an extension of himself, a dance of death that froze hearts in terror.

"Wen Ran, stop!"

A familiar voice cut through the chaos. His blade, inches from claiming the life of the golden-haired girl, froze mid-air.

Fang Jinyao stood before him, her golden locks illuminated by the flames consuming the city. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, fear and determination warring in her gaze. She had been running—running to find him, to confirm the truth, and now, she was standing in front of the very monster she had been searching for.

"Wen Ran…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, shaking with emotion.

He didn't lower his sword.

He didn't speak.

He just stared at her, crimson eyes devoid of warmth.