Volume One, Chapter 49: Husband, I'm Hungry

It wasn’t that he couldn’t stay to help, but rather that there was no point. With over a hundred cultivators at the Profound Realm, they ought to be stronger than the Enforcement Squad leader. The problem was, he hadn’t stayed behind to win—he was simply buying time, giving these people a few extra moments of life.

What’s more, the Slaughter God Sword had become even more terrifying. The spirit within it had awakened and could now kill enemies of its own accord, without the master’s guidance. No other weapon could do this—not even the Sky-Splitting Tiger Roar Three Soul Claw.

As time passed, another half hour slipped by. Blood Dragon, Blackie, Lü Bu, Zhao Yun, Xiang Yu, the Barbarian, Lin Tianxiong, and Yang Jian—on each of their bodies, a faint golden light began to rise once again. Yet, they still did not awaken.

Right at that moment, a ripple of black light surged. The Three Fools immediately fell silent, and Chen Fan turned his head slightly, only to discover that the old Nascent Soul monster Kui Wu was hiding in a crow’s nest on a giant tree not far from him.

Hong Yun’s breathing suddenly quickened—Yun Fei’s words, “Master of the Hong Sect,” struck right at his heart.

Sun Shangwu did not dodge. Chen Fan’s fist landed solidly on his face, knocking both his head and body to one side.

“Aish, Lee Hyori, just you wait!” Yoo Jae-suk clutched his backside, so angry that he burst out in Korean. But with no hope left, he could only talk big.

Could he really go to Lady Qingyang and tell her to go back and inform the Empress, insisting that she must act coquettish, that she must be wanton?

A sound like slicing tofu rang out—Old Turtle was cut into several segments, without even a chance to scream.

Jiang Tian knew all too well that his last sword had not yet severely wounded Wu Chu. He condensed his soul once more into a needle and fired it at Wu Chu.

“Thank you. I know you were framed. When my injuries are better, I’ll lead you all out,” Ouyang Haoyun said in a deep voice.

Li Ang organized the prisoners, staying behind to clean up the site. Several prison guards supervised them, while Hakimi sat slumped on the ground, unable to react, already being dragged away by two other guards.

Lin Fan sighed inwardly. As he suspected, these two monsters weren’t the brightest, but it didn’t matter; when it came to making choices, they were shrewd enough.

Just like today—he knew she was probably scheming, wanting Wen Shaoqing to place complete trust in her. With his own profound cultivation, this didn’t affect him much; saving Wen Shaoqing was far more suitable than saving himself.

In truth, under those circumstances, he had no choice but to act. Having already stabbed Ye Lei, there was no way Ye Lei would simply let him go.

“Demon, Demon King?” Lü Jiu was shocked. She had been a rogue cultivator in the past and had heard many tales about cultivators and demons, especially fox demons.

The bonfire before them was frozen in place, yet still cast its light, though Chen Luo could feel no warmth.

“That’s right. Just like all the others before, these corpses carry a faint stench of decay.”

The path she cultivated was one of supreme strength. Her heart was undistracted—she sought only to be unbreakable, unbeatable.

When he had not yet regained his memory, had not yet adopted Long Dayuan, and planned never to marry, he’d considered handing the Long Mark Gang to his sister. Yet her evident ambition made him uneasy—too much ambition would be the ruin of the gang, and he could not allow that to happen.

Shangguan Zi had only let slip that Wei Churan was injured, without mentioning the reason. He didn’t ask.

Indeed, this had always been Cang Hua’s way—use whomever is useful, even the King of Hell himself.

The armored young man, hearing this, took out a blood-red pendant shaped like a setting sun. Solemnly, he sketched the features of the person from earlier onto it, even capturing his bizarre aura. The white glow of the pendant enveloped the spirit image drawn with spiritual power.

Jiang Aoxue seemed to have worked something out. Some answers, perhaps, could be found in the old homeland of Shu—if her mother truly was a native.

Baili Minghui thought that if he only mentioned himself and Aoxue, the Empress Dowager might not be swayed. Only by elevating the matter to a higher level might there be a slim chance to salvage things.

This left the young people, inexperienced in the ways of the world yet eager to make a fortune, feeling their blood boil.

He made his way to the office with practiced ease, crossing the noisy workshop and climbing the stairs, glancing down at the busy workers below.

To keep everyone from kneeling too long—especially her elderly grandmother and the sister-in-law about to give birth—Jiang Aoxue quickly lifted her skirts and ran to kneel at her mother’s side.

One must know, spirit beasts are ranked in twelve grades. The higher the grade, the stronger the beast. A third-grade spirit beast could rival a Soul Condensation cultivator. With Lin Ji’s strength, he could at most defeat a mid-first-grade spirit beast, while a high first-grade would utterly overwhelm him.

Busquets and Cassel were both stunned. For both Lord Roland and Viscount Carter to fear this Domain-level expert—what manner of powerhouse could he be?

Jiang Feibai had been holding back for some days now. Yang Hao’s sudden challenge set his fighting spirit ablaze, making him forget his original intentions.

The apples hadn’t been picked by Wang Rihua himself—they were gathered by the villagers, who had discussed with Village Chief Yang and Wang Rihua before delivering them together.

His decision to teach at Xavier Academy for a few years was largely because Ye Qianhu wanted to test this hypothesis.

Yet vampires had a particularly intense reaction to blood loss. Kate, left to fall alone into the snow, watched as Ye Qianhu soared back into the air.

At that moment, the True Self manifestation gradually dissipated, and the power to summon wind and rain faded away completely.

The owner of this exquisite body melded perfectly with the night—mysterious, dangerous, and always exuding an irresistible allure.

In the center stood a square-faced, middle-aged man in splendid robes, his aura not weak—a formidable Earth Origin cultivator. At his left was a youth in brocade robes with a refined appearance; on the other side, a gaunt, dark-skinned elder.

A waiter came over to take their order. After a few polite exchanges, everyone let Mr. Yang order the dishes.

This time, Ye Qianhu dared not let Scarlett keep drinking. Heaven only knew what new madness she might unleash. Letting Scarlett cling to her like a koala, Ye Qianhu made her way to a relatively quiet sofa.

“Heh, His Majesty is the Emperor of Great Xia—how could he possibly collude with Mo Kun and Lu Mu? Our Emperor’s heart is with the land and the people. He wishes only to drive the invaders from Great Xia as soon as possible,” Fan Jiachang chimed in, guilty conscience clear in his voice.

During these six months, Yang Tinghe had worked tirelessly to oversee the cadastral survey and census. From the moment he proposed this, opposition had risen from all sides—from the central government to the localities, from the court to the countryside. Even Yang Tinghe’s aged father wrote from home, urging him to give it up.