Chapter Seventy-six: The Reason for Murder

If he really let Luo Tian unleash a relentless assault, he would at the very least be gravely wounded, unable to recover his combat strength for some time! Wei Zhongyuan glanced at his four junior brothers, whose bodies shimmered with faint black light, and realized these useless fools were no match for Luo Tian, who was at the eighth rotation of the Qi Condensation Realm. Even four against one, they would be easily dealt with by this bastard.

Hold him off!

As long as he could stall for a bit longer, the five of them striking together—did they really need to fear Luo Tian?

Wei Zhongyuan told himself that although he had just fallen behind, he hadn't truly tried to kill Luo Tian. If he surrendered, even if it didn't immediately resolve the situation, it might at least make Luo Tian hold back a little.

If he could achieve that, it would be enough!

But Luo Tian, upon hearing Wei Zhongyuan's surrender, became even more resolute in his intention to kill him. So, just because he thought himself powerful, he wanted to eliminate Luo Tian, but now that he saw himself outmatched, he expected to surrender and walk away? Daydreaming! He wasn't buying it. Even if Wei Zhongyuan sincerely repented, today he had to die here!

Did he think he could play games with him?

During the previous battle, Wei Zhongyuan had shown no mercy. Some actions, once taken, must be paid for!

Luo Tian was not bloodthirsty, but he knew who deserved to die.

Without the slightest hesitation, Luo Tian clenched both fists and brought them crashing down on Wei Zhongyuan's head.

"Stop!"

"Do you really want to die?"

Several disciples of the Grand Origin Sect were hurrying over, but even a short distance required time to cross. Besides, not wanting to interrupt Senior Brother Wei's moment of glory, they had deliberately hung back a few steps, afraid to interfere with his performance.

Luo Tian ignored their shouts, exhaling a mighty roar, wholly intent on killing Wei Zhongyuan first.

At the sound of Luo Tian's roar, Wei Zhongyuan felt his mind seize up for a brief instant—a fleeting moment, but in battle, that was enough to be fatal!

Tiger-type demonic beasts naturally possess an aura of dominance, kings among beasts. Even a roar is enough to cow the masses, let alone in combat.

Although Luo Tian had not unleashed any kingly aura, the psychological pressure of his overwhelming strength produced a similar effect.

In this critical moment, Wei Zhongyuan could only twist his head aside and lean back, trying desperately to evade the blow. He knew it would do little, but he had to try.

Perhaps he might survive after all?

Luo Tian's fists hammered down on Wei Zhongyuan's shoulders.

"Argh!"

Wei Zhongyuan screamed in pain, but even so, the crisp sound of bones breaking was unmistakable.

Bones shattered?

The approaching disciples of the Grand Origin Sect froze in their tracks.

"Senior Brother Wei still has strength left! Let's rush up and kill that worthless Shen Yang Sect dog!"

One disciple, swallowing nervously, wanted to retreat, but after considering life in the secret realm without Wei Zhongyuan would be even harder, he decided to press on and urged his wavering companions forward as well.

Luo Tian heard their movements but paid them no heed. His fists pounded Wei Zhongyuan's body again and again, each blow landing with a sickening thud that seemed to echo through the quiet forest, enough to make anyone's skin crawl.

The so-called secret realm power, the force capable of healing wounds found in demonic beasts, Luo Tian had studied it and found that it was not conjured from nothing; it consumed the vital energy within a cultivator.

Thus, with Wei Zhongyuan almost depleted of strength, Luo Tian had to finish him off in one go.

Otherwise, if this man recovered, Luo Tian would face much trouble.

The Grand Origin Sect disciples' moment of hesitation had bought Luo Tian a bit more time. Facing Wei Zhongyuan, who had almost no strength left to resist, Luo Tian attacked freely, not bothering to hold back or leave room to adapt.

The power gap between cultivators with true intent and those without was truly immense.

Wei Zhongyuan felt a burning wave rampaging within him, threatening to ignite his very flesh.

"No..."

A hoarse voice escaped him, filled with regret. Luo Tian was a powerful elite from the Shen Yang Sect's Four Great Clans—someone who needed no teammates to survive. How laughable that he had thought Luo Tian was easy prey.

If he had another chance, he would be more discerning—and only target the truly weak.

Luo Tian spun and delivered a fierce kick, shattering Wei Zhongyuan's head. Red and white, thick and thin—the contents of his skull burst forth in a grisly display.

No matter how a cultivator in the Qi Condensation Realm trained, their physical defense remained fragile. Without the support and protection of vital energy, they were only somewhat stronger than ordinary people. With nearly ten thousand pounds of force, Luo Tian could easily smash stones or punch through tree trunks—how much more so a defenseless head like Wei Zhongyuan's? He was no different from a target dummy.

A golden light flashed in Luo Tian's eyes as he watched a strange energy enter his body—a pure, concentrated power that made him feel utterly refreshed, to the point where he almost wanted to moan.

It was a strange sensation, hard to describe, as though his entire body was brimming with vitality.

"You—"

The remaining four Grand Origin Sect disciples, weapons drawn, had just prepared to attack when they saw Luo Tian dispatch Senior Brother Wei as easily as kicking an apple.

Wei Zhongyuan's dying screams still echoed.

Luo Tian's cold gaze swept over the four of them.

"Senior Brother Luo..." one disciple stammered, his lips trembling, terror written all over his face.

Even in the recent days of hunting Shen Yang Sect disciples, they had never seen such bloodshed!

Looking at Wei Zhongyuan's blood-soaked corpse, unmoving on the ground, with his head in pieces, how could these disciples not be afraid?

"Cowards—do you think he'll spare you?"

One disciple gritted his teeth, raised his machete, and charged straight at Luo Tian.

In a flash, Luo Tian drew his azure blade from his storage pouch and sliced the disciple's throat in one clean motion—no hesitation, no wasted movement, a single killing blow.

"No one moves. Whoever acts first dies first," Luo Tian said calmly, sweeping his gaze over the remaining disciples.

At his words, any remaining thoughts of resistance vanished, and the disciples stood frozen, not daring to move.

"How many Shen Yang Sect disciples have you killed?"

Luo Tian asked. He had no particular affection for them, but they were, after all, from the same sect—whether descendants of the Four Great Clans or from ordinary families, all lived under the shadow of the sect's higher-ups. Even the clan scions who looked down on others had no reason to seek their own deaths.

"Well..."

"Senior Brother Luo, not that many, actually..."

The azure blade flashed again, and another disciple's throat was cut.

Luo Tian had never intended to spare these men—not since he heard them plotting to let Wei Zhongyuan kill him so they could seize the secret realm power for themselves.

"Ten! Ten!" one disciple screamed in panic, answering Luo Tian's question without hesitation.

Another glared at his companion in frustration. You killed ten of their own, and still expect mercy? You'll just die more slowly!

"All this, just for the so-called secret realm power, to boost your body's recovery?"

After taking three lives in a few moments, Luo Tian's expression didn't change. He looked as though he'd merely crushed three ants.

"Senior Brother Luo, please, listen!"

One disciple, sensing Luo Tian was less intent on killing, spilled everything—how their team had discovered the power's effects, how they had tested it on Shen Yang Sect disciples, and how they wiped out two groups entirely. He left nothing out.

As Luo Tian listened, he suddenly turned and stabbed the quietest disciple through the heart, catching him completely off guard.

The disciple's face contorted with anger, unwillingness, and confusion as he collapsed.

"I told you everything—why did you still kill me?" the last surviving disciple of the Grand Origin Sect realized his fate and protested bitterly. "Besides Senior Brother Wei, the four of us didn't even attack! How can you be so ruthless?"

Feeling the secret realm power surging within, Luo Tian gazed quietly at the disciple, who was on the verge of madness, and said softly, "You killed others—what reason did you have?"

"We... we..."

The disciple's face was ashen, his teeth chattering. He dared neither run nor fight, only desperately searching for an excuse. In the end, he replied in frustration, "Because they were the easiest to kill! They lacked strength but had valuable secret realm power. If we didn't kill them, who would we kill?"

Luo Tian nodded slightly. "That's a reasonable answer—but it can't save you."

"You..."

"When I fought Wei Zhongyuan, you didn't act, but that wasn't because you didn't want to. You simply thought it unnecessary. Since you were already discussing how to split the spoils after my death, why complain now that I'm killing you?"

Luo Tian raised his head a fraction. "If you carried rare treasures, I wouldn't covet them. If you passively benefited from my death without wishing for it, I might let you go."

The disciple trembled all over, a look of despair in his eyes.

"But you wanted me dead, and you possess something I need. I simply can't find a reason not to kill you!"

With that, Luo Tian struck again, erasing the entire Grand Origin Sect team.

Though they had not committed evil themselves, they hoped to profit from others’ misdeeds—how was that any different from being evil?

Only after Luo Tian had carefully wiped his azure sword clean and stored it away did he feel his inner oppression slightly ease.

Why did Grand Origin Sect disciples look at Shen Yang Sect with not only arrogance born of superior strength but also with undisguised disdain and contempt?

At last, Luo Tian understood.

Whether it was the Four Great Clans blocking the ascent of disciples from ordinary families, or the hardworking, hopeful disciples from humble backgrounds who were kept in the dark, both were seen by Grand Origin Sect in the same way.

Luo Tian never considered himself great or noble, but as a man in this world, he felt obliged to do something.

He gathered all the valuables from the ten storage pouches and placed them in his own, keeping a couple empty ones for future use.

After absorbing the secret realm power from the five Grand Origin Sect disciples, Luo Tian felt physically marvelous, but he also noticed something strange.

For some reason, from deep within the forest came a mysterious pull, an urge that compelled him to draw closer.

It felt like an instinctive impulse, a physical craving.

What was happening?

Luo Tian clenched his fists and tried to retreat, but found his desires almost beyond his conscious control, still pushing him toward that place.

In that case, so be it!

Moving forward was the only way. Luo Tian wasn't afraid—the secret realm power was already a great gain. Who knew what greater fortune lay ahead?

At worst, it would be a mixed bag.

Having made up his mind, Luo Tian strode boldly in the direction of the pull.

"Brother Liu, that's the sixth Grand Origin Sect disciple, isn't it?"

"That's right. Those useless fools—how dare they look down on me? The Liu family is the first of the Four Great Clans in Shen Yang Sect. I, Liu Longfei, may not be the very elite, but I'm close. How could those weaklings ever deal with me?"

Liu Longfei smiled arrogantly, the wound on his face healing rapidly, new flesh pink and smooth, blending seamlessly with his skin.

This Shen Yang Sect team was down to three—Liu Longfei and two other Liu clan members; the rest had fallen.

At that moment, Liu Longfei's expression suddenly changed.

"What's wrong, Longfei?"

He didn't answer, but a thoughtful look crossed his face. Then he ordered, "I'm going to explore alone for a while. You two act on your own."

Ignoring their worried and reluctant pleas, he resolutely followed his instincts deeper into the forest.

The two Liu clan disciples dared not protest and quickly picked another direction.

Effortlessly slitting the throats of three Shen Yang Sect disciples, Jiang Tianhong watched the spraying blood and their unwilling faces with disdain. "So weak! Treasures belong to the worthy—how could Shen Yang Sect disciples deserve secret realm power? Of course it all belongs to us!"

Feeling three surges of energy flow into him, Jiang Tianhong licked his pale lips with satisfaction.

Suddenly, a strange unease arose within him, as if a magnetic force from some distant place was pulling him forward.

Opportunity? Treasure? Danger?

Jiang Tianhong's eyes flashed; he was unafraid. Without hesitation, he strode quickly in that direction.

Three thousand plus four thousand—well, that makes up for a missed chapter earlier.