Godslayer: Reincarnated with SSS Rank Cultivation System

Meanwhile, only two enemies remained standing before Wen Ran. Both of them were panting heavily, their bodies weary from the relentless battle. They exchanged a brief look, then glanced at the elder, their anger rising as they saw Wu Xiaohui flee, abandoning them mid-fight. He had jumped the wall and ran like a coward, his tail between his legs.

They cursed their service to this fool, cursed his family, but most of all—they cursed the demon god standing before them.

With a silent nod, they exchanged a plan, silently agreeing on their final, desperate attack. Using the last of their strength, they combined their powers, launching a devastating blast at Wen Ran—a crimson snake made of flames and a boulder-sized rock rocketed toward him.

Wen Ran, with a calmness that unnerved them, dodged the attacks effortlessly. His eyes never left them as they moved. He saw the two cowards darting through the gate, abandoning their duties.

These kinds of strategies made Wen Ran chuckle.

The sound was cold, like the echo of a predator that had just cornered its prey. It was a laugh of disdain, as if he already knew what would happen next.

The moment they turned their backs, Wen Ran's warning rang true "Never show your back to your enemy."

As they fled in fear, not expecting Wen Ran to chase after them, two blood streaks shot through the air with terrifying speed. They were faster than anything they could dodge—the attacks didn't just fly toward them; they seemed to track their every movement.

Before either man could react, the blood arrows shot through their skulls, their bodies jerking violently before collapsing to the ground, dead before they even hit the earth.

Their lives were over, sacrificed to Wen Ran's power—and added to the growing tally of lives taken, all for his own dark purpose. He didn't even spare them a second thought, his eyes already shifting back to his next goal.

Wen Ran could feel his dantian nearing the limit of the Spirit Gathering Stage, the energy he had accumulated growing more stable and powerful with every passing moment. He could sense how sturdy his foundation would be when he finally broke into the Spirit Flow Stage. The thought of the newfound power was enough to make him feel almost euphoric—this technique was turning out to be incredibly useful, and he was beginning to appreciate it far more than he had ever thought possible. He had completely forgotten the malice he once felt toward the system.

He glanced around, noticing the battle between the two middle-aged cultivators was nearing its end. The woman appeared exhausted, despite her earlier bravado. The Wu Clan expert she had been fighting turned out to be too difficult to finish off. No matter how many times she struck, he always found a way to escape death at the last moment, cursing his luck.

Both combatants were oblivious to the looming disaster. Wen Ran crept closer, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He didn't dare to miss a single detail. Every movement, every breath, every shift in power between the two—he studied it all, trying to assess how much energy they had left.

Meanwhile, his fingers were in constant motion. Two blood arrows began to form from the bodies of the fallen nearby. He gathered as much blood as possible, channeling it into his cultivation base, condensing it into sharp arrows. He masked his killing intent by employing a secret technique from his past clan—a technique based on the control of breathing patterns. The more controlled his breathing, the more he could relax his heart, masking any emotions. No aura of killing intent radiated from him.

Just as the woman knocked the Wu Clan expert's sword out of his hands, she went in for the final strike to kill him. But in the same moment, her heart was pierced by something sharp. The heart of the Wu Clan expert also burst into a brilliant cascade of blood.

Both of them looked at each other, confused, then at Wen Ran, who casually waved them goodbye.

The woman cursed him internally as she collapsed, her body falling onto the Wu Clan expert. Within moments, both of them were dead on the spot.

The powerful energy slammed into his dantian, making Wen Ran sweat. He could barely hold on without breaking through to the next stage.

If a powerful expert had witnessed Wen Ran's actions at that moment, they would have seen him as a walking disaster. A talent so terrifying, it would either bring about chaos across the world or unite it under his rule. Either way, someone with that kind of power was a threat that could shatter the balance of the world. Wen Ran was an unstoppable force.

Deep within the heart of the Fang Palace, an old man sat cross-legged, his eyes shut in deep meditation. The chamber around him was designed to isolate him from all external disturbances, ensuring absolute focus. Yet, just as he reached the critical juncture of his cultivation, an aura—so potent it sent a shiver down even his spine—erupted through the void, shattering his concentration.

His eyes snapped open. A frail figure, skin shriveled like withered parchment, a long beard and hair of ashen gray—he looked like a corpse long past its time. And yet, in that instant, blood spurted from his lips, his qi violently thrown into disarray. His spiritual energy churned in disorder, on the verge of a breakthrough, yet now teetering at the brink of collapse.

That aura… Fang Jinyao!

A deep fear gripped his bones. That sacred, divine presence—one he had nurtured with everything at his disposal—had flared so chaotically that even he trembled. He had placed her above all, not as family, but as the future of their lineage, showering her with endless resources, molding her into the pillar of their clan. And yet, her spiritual energy now surged with wild turbulence, as if disturbed by something… no, someone.

Then, another presence emerged—one so vile, so drenched in malice, it was the complete opposite of Jinyao's.

A demonic cultivator? Here? In my city?