Godslayer: Reincarnated with SSS Rank Cultivation System

The white rabbit cracked its neck, somehow exuding a human-like presence. A bizarre sight. Anyone watching would find it absurd, and that was exactly what ran through Wu Xiaohui's mind. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry—why was a damn rabbit attacking him? Where had this thing even come from? His confusion quickly turned into burning rage.

"You little… you dare?" He growled, pushing himself up, barely sparing the rabbit a glance. But the moment he looked again—

It was gone.

SLAM!

A powerful paw struck his ribcage. A sickening crack rang out, and Wu Xiaohui spat out a mouthful of blood. Before he could even process the pain, another white leg came crashing into his jaw. The rabbit spun midair, its paws glowing with a brilliant white light. The force of the kick sent him flying, slamming through a nearby wall.

Wu Xiaohui staggered to his feet, his head spinning, bile rising in his throat. His pride—shattered. Beaten to a pulp by a damn rabbit. A humiliation beyond anything he could have imagined.

Meanwhile, Xiao Mo danced around him, a tiny demon in the shape of a rabbit. Her brilliant blue eyes gleamed with fury, her entire being radiating killing intent. The moment she had sensed this human scheming against her master's woman, she lost all restraint. Yes, that was what Fang Jinyao was in Xiao Mo's little mind—her master's mate. And if anyone dared lay a finger on his things, they had to answer to her.

Wu Xiaohui wiped the blood from his mouth, his body flashing with golden light as he steadied himself. His sword was out in an instant. He scoured the rubble, eyes darting around.

Silence.

The damn thing had disappeared.

Little did he know, the rabbit was simply waiting for that moment. Unlike him, she had patience. She watched as he swung his sword aimlessly, slashing at nothing but air.

"Damn rabbit," he hissed, frustration boiling over. "This grandfather will teach you a lesson—you messed with the wrong man! You'll be my dinner tonight, just you wait!"

His voice cracked slightly, making him curse inwardly. First, the hateful rabbit was beating him senseless, and now his own body was betraying him?

In the next instant, a white paw was already inches from his face.

This time, however, he reacted.

For all his arrogance, Wu Xiaohui wasn't weak. He twisted his body just in time, spinning in a half-circle. His sword slashed out in a deadly arc—aiming for the rabbit's throat.

But Xiao Mo was faster.

Her tiny body twisted in midair, narrowly dodging the lethal strike.

The two clashed in a relentless duel—one wielding his sword with practiced grace, the other relying on sheer speed and instinct. Xiao Mo darted through the air, using the environment to her advantage, striking when the perfect opening appeared, while Wu Xiaohui swung wildly, his frustration mounting with every failed attempt to land a hit.

Meanwhile, Wen Ran was nearing the end of his slaughter. The last remaining stragglers were clustered near the middle-aged woman and the Wu Clan forces, desperately seeking an escape. Yet, to their horror, the woman blocked their path, refusing to let them flee. She fought fiercely, unyielding, and her presence alone kept them trapped.

The pressure on her mounted, but just as things seemed to tip against her favor, Wen Ran arrived.

Blood surged through the air like a tidal wave, swirling around him, forming blades as sharp as steel. The moment he struck, the town was filled with the wet sound of severed flesh. Heads rolled. Panic set in.

In the chaos, Wen Ran's gaze flickered to the old man who had sold him pills and elixirs earlier. Strangely, the man was nowhere to be seen. A small relief. That old man… he must be a hidden expert. If he had chosen to interfere, things might have turned against me. But since he's staying out of it, I can continue as planned.

A smug grin curled at Wen Ran's lips. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had envisioned.

A group of twenty cultivators, banding together in one final, desperate stand, charged at him. But when he assessed their strength, his excitement dulled. None of them were even at the fifth circle of Spirit Gathering.

Pathetic.

He scoffed internally, his mind briefly wandering to his past life. Even the lowest clans in that world had Nascent Soul cultivators—true powerhouses, one step away from immortality. They were common, their presence unremarkable. And yet, here, these people barely grasped the lowest realms of cultivation.

Wen Ran sighed. This world is too weak.

His blade flashed.

In mere moments, the group collapsed, lifeless. He didn't even break a sweat.

With that out of the way, he turned toward the middle-aged woman, now locked in combat with the Wu Clan's strongest.

A peak Spirit Flow cultivator...

Wen Ran narrowed his eyes. That one might be troublesome. But he had no intention of wasting his strength. He left the man to the old woman.

"You! Who the hell are you?" The middle-aged man's voice shook as he glared at Wen Ran. His body tensed, his instincts screaming at him to flee. The white-haired figure before him radiated an overwhelming bloodlust, his presence as eerie as a ghost drifting through a battlefield of the damned. The experts of the Wu Clan recoiled, their eyes flickering with fear.

That aura… it's monstrous.

Not to mention the blood that was floating, swirling unnaturally around him, shifting with a will of its own. It sent shivers down the spines of even the hardened cultivators.

"This demonic aura…" He furrowed his brows, "You're a demonic cultivator," the middle-aged man muttered, his face twisting in disgust. "Why has someone so young already fallen onto this forbidden path?" His expression darkened, and his grip on his sword tightened. "It doesn't matter! Today, I will personally rid you from this world in the name of the heavens!"

His roar rang through the battlefield, but before he could act, a blur of steel descended from above.

CLANG!

The force of the strike sent shockwaves through the ground, forcing him to stagger backward. Blood trickled from the corners of his lips as he lifted his gaze, only to see the middle-aged woman grinning wildly.

"Talk big all you want," she sneered, flipping her sword effortlessly in her grip. "But do you have the skill to back it up?" She tilted her head mockingly. "You want the kid? Then you'll have to kill me first."

Without waiting for a response, she launched forward, her sword swinging in an erratic, almost playful manner. The middle-aged man barely had time to raise his weapon before her blade slammed into his defense.

BOOM!

He was sent flying, crashing through the remains of a collapsed city wall. Blood spurted from his mouth, his body trembling from the impact.

Wen Ran, standing at a distance, lowered his sword slightly. His crimson eyes glowed in the dimming flames of the burning city.

The real battle was about to begin.

And he was ready. After all, all of his opponents were now in the early stages of the Spirit Flow. This would be the perfect test to see how his tenth circle of Spirit Gathering measured up.