After a long silence.
As the dust settled, Wang Yu tapped the shattered remains of the Earth Element Cauldron. It crumbled into fragments. He sighed.
He had barely used the cauldron since refining it. This battle was its first true deployment—and its last.
The battlefield—
Within a hundred-meter radius centered on Bai Zhuzhu, everything had been reduced to void. Buildings looked as if some monstrous beast had taken a clean bite out of them, leaving behind a perfectly circular crater. Not even splinters remained.
The ground had been gouged into a pit three zhang deep—nearly ten meters. The power of the Guiyuan Dissolution Secret Art was terrifying.
From Bai Zhuzhu, there would be no spoils. When Wang Yu turned to check on the barely surviving Second Elder—
Well.
The shockwave had finished him off.
Corpse collection, pouch retrieval—it all happened like clockwork.
The courtyard was littered with Bai Clan corpses. Many had been vaporized in the explosion. Only a few remained intact.
Wang Yu opened his mouth and inhaled.
"Soul Devour."
The lingering souls hadn't been affected. The weakened spirits bound to the Black Fiend Armor stirred and revived, strengthening the armor once again.
After swallowing a healing pill and a spirit recovery pill, Wang Yu made no move against the Bai Clan's Grand Elder.
Why?
Simple. He couldn't win.
He also noticed something odd: the Bai estate was missing many people. The death-trap he'd prepared for the Bai Patriarch hadn't been triggered. And when he first cast Heart-Control Demon Melody, he'd sensed only about six hundred Bai cultivators.
After the mutual cannibalism and Bai Zhuzhu's self-detonation, barely half remained.
This didn't match the intelligence reports, which claimed nearly a thousand Bai cultivators. Clearly, a portion had left early—likely with the Bai Patriarch.
As for why?
Too many possibilities. Surely it wasn't fear of Wang Yu's strength. That would be unrealistic.
Tonight's lesson had been brutal—perhaps even irreversible. The missing Bai members had likely fled Spiritridge. For now, they were out of reach.
As for the Grand Elder—Wang Yu didn't want to let him go.
But he had no choice. This was the power of absolute cultivation.
After a moment—
Wang Yu returned to the front courtyard and dispelled the Bloodmist Concealment Array. The Grand Elder was just beginning to awaken from the Moonlit Illusion Realm.
In truth, he'd only been trapped for half a stick of incense. Yet in that time, the Bai Clan had been annihilated.
Without interference, his escape speed wasn't slow.
Wang Yu paused, then recited the Demonic Embryo Primordial Curse.
A thread of demonic intent emerged from his body and burrowed into the Grand Elder's soul. When he awoke in despair, the seed would mature instantly—twisting his mind.
It would also serve as a tracking beacon. If the Grand Elder came within a hundred kilometers, Wang Yu would sense him immediately.
A ninth-layer Foundation Establishment cultivator with years of life left—he had a real chance at Core Formation. Once the demonic seed awakened, it would devour his soul's fire.
Wang Yu planted his second demonic seed.
As expected, the Grand Elder had dual spiritual roots—fire and metal. Perfect for boosting Wang Yu's own weak metal root.
As for when to finish him off—
Best case: he awakens, loses control, and attacks the City Lord's Manor. Wang Yu could use the formation to crush him instantly.
If he fled instead, Wang Yu could track him later—and perhaps learn the location of the surviving Bai members.
Either outcome was acceptable. It was just a matter of timing.
No rush.
Wang Yu activated Invisibility and Silent Step Incantation, rising into the air. He had already looted the battlefield. The Bai Clan's treasure vault and scripture hall could wait.
For now—
He hovered at the highest point of the Bai estate, watching the Grand Elder and the crowd outside.
Soon—
"—No!!!"
The scream chilled every spine.
The Grand Elder, eyes bloodshot and panting like a beast, staggered to the estate's gate. He stood frozen, haunted by visions of his clan's slaughter.
It was like reliving the nightmare of the Moonlit Illusion Realm—but this time, it was real.
He felt himself unraveling. He wanted to kill the version of himself who had once proudly declared, "I have a plan."
Now he understood the Bai Patriarch's fury.
This was what it meant to lose everything.
No wonder the patriarch had forbidden gambling. Winning might bring a small gain—but losing meant eternal damnation.
The Bai Clan had been one of Spiritridge's three great clans. Why take such a risk?
Fortunately, the Grand Elder had forcibly relocated the patriarch and the third branch to the ancestral estate. That was the only reason he hadn't gone mad.
But as a sinner—
Did he even deserve to return?
The desire to die swelled within him. Wang Yu alone could see the demonic seed erupting—thousands of threads of madness blooming from the Grand Elder's soul.
The seed had matured.
From above, Wang Yu made his judgment and prepared to return to the City Lord's Manor. But the Bai Clan's formation was still active—he couldn't leave yet.
Would the Grand Elder realize this?
"Probably not. The demonic seed has clouded his mind."
Just as Wang Yu mocked him silently—
The Grand Elder howled at the sky.
"Wang Yu! I will kill you!"
Then, under countless eyes, he smashed through the Mountain Marsh Tortoise Shell Array and flew toward the City Lord's Manor.
The crowd erupted.
What had happened tonight? They were desperate to know.
Wang Yu frowned and sighed. He flew after the Grand Elder, hoping no one would sneak into the manor and steal his belongings.
But fate had other plans.
He had barely taken three steps when—
The Grand Elder's figure was suddenly engulfed in a yellow mist, chilling and dense.
"Nether Spring Ghost Fog! A high-grade second-tier escape and concealment technique—core inheritance of Nether Spring Temple. Rumor has it they even have a Core Formation version: Nether Spring Escape Art."
Wang Yu had studied Nether Spring Temple's lore before arriving in Spiritridge. He knew they were a force to reckon with.
Moments later, the ghost fog vanished—and so did the Grand Elder.
Wang Yu clenched his fists.
The duck had flown away.
He would remember this grudge.
"Hmph—"
…
As dawn broke, the Bai Clan's formation collapsed from lack of spirit stones. The greedy crowd surged in.
But they were stunned.
No corpses. Only bloodstains. Signs of battle were everywhere.
They searched high and low—not a single spirit stone remained.
Even the furniture was gone. The Mountain Marsh Tortoise Shell Array was still intact, but it was a fixed-location formation—not portable.
The Bai Clan's disappearance was a mystery.
But based on the Grand Elder's final scream, it was clearly the work of their beloved City Lord.
The crowd was shocked—and deeply afraid.
The Bai Clan, once the strongest of Spiritridge's three great clans, had fallen.
Last time, Wang Yu had relied on the manor's formation. People dismissed it.
This time was different.
He had stormed the Bai estate and committed a massacre.
It proved his strength had reached late-stage Foundation Establishment—untouchable by anyone short of Core Formation.
And so—
Wang Yu's name spread like wildfire across Cloudridge Province.
He became infamous.
Spiritridge's cultivators grew obedient. Especially in the wake of the Bai Clan's destruction, no one dared stir trouble.
At dawn—
A weary Wang Yu returned to the City Lord's Manor. The Three-Tailed Snow Fox, Xueyu, rushed over with the City Lord Token in its mouth, ready to activate the formation as an escape route.
No need now.
Wang Yu carefully stored the token, smiling as he stroked Xueyu's fur. His gentle demeanor betrayed no hint of the bloodshed he had just wrought.
Then—
Xiangxiang appeared from the covered bridge, eyes bright. "City Lord, you're back safely!"
Wang Yu nodded casually. "You didn't leave last night?"
"No. The seedlings you accepted just woke up. They're cultivating in the plaza. I helped guide them."
"Thank you."
With that, Xiangxiang took her leave. Dreamcloud Pavilion had already gained control of the northern district. No need for further thanks.
A formal appointment from the City Lord's Manor would be more valuable than any gift.
As for the new recruits—
A month ago, the Guan and Jiang Clans had completed spiritual root testing. Spiritridge, a populous city with many Birth Palaces, had a high infant survival rate.
It could supply ten times more cultivators than Stone Lake City.
Just the four- and five-root cultivators numbered five thousand—destined to become spirit farmers for the manor.
There were also 800 three-root cultivators and one dual-root talent.
These would be trained as city guards and patrol officers. The numbers were still low, but Wang Yu planned to recruit rogue cultivators as well.
Whether spies infiltrated or not didn't matter.
Until they revealed themselves, they were useful.
Over the past month, Wang Yu had regularly taught these youths, guiding them through the foundational stages of cultivation. To truly begin their path, they had to pass through three gates:
The Three Gates of Dao Entry.
Tranquil Mind: The ability to quiet one's thoughts and suppress distractions during meditation.
Spiritual Perception: Using one's spiritual roots to sense the flow of ambient spiritual energy.
Essence Absorption: Drawing in spiritual energy and attempting to refine it into nascent spiritual power.
The higher one's comprehension, the faster one passed through these gates. Most required at least a month. Those with weaker aptitude might need three.
Wang Yu himself had bypassed the normal sequence by using the Storage Panel Effect, first generating spiritual power within his body and then retroactively entering the Dao. That's why he had achieved breakthrough in a single day.
Of course, there was another method.
Using the Life-Burning Demon Art, one could forcibly accelerate Dao entry. Its principle was similar to the Storage Panel—generate spiritual power first, then stabilize the foundation. The catch: one had to understand the technique.
Wang Yu had studied it thoroughly.
Now, as he watched the plaza where hundreds of youths sat cross-legged in meditation, he felt a rare sense of calm.
These were the seeds of his future.
Some would become spirit farmers. Others, guards and patrol cultivators. A few might rise to become trusted aides. And among them… perhaps one or two would become true disciples.
He had no illusions. Not all would survive the path. But those who did—would carry his mark.
He turned and walked toward the inner hall.
The sun had risen. The bloodshed of last night was already fading into rumor. But the name Wang Yu, City Lord of Spiritridge, had already become legend.
Feared. Respected. Whispered in awe.
And somewhere, in the shadows of Cloudridge Province, those who had fled—were watching.
(End of Chapter)