novelzi Chapter 35 Assassination
Chapter 35 Assassination
The white shadow darted through the city streets, moving with precision and speed. No one dared to cross his path. It was the perfect opportunity for Wen Ran to execute his plan and claim the weapon that called out to him. He could feel its power beckoning, a resonance that promised unmatched strength.
The moment that old dog comes back, I'll be waiting for him in his room. And then... I'll make sure he dies a painful death for the humiliation he caused me. His mind seethed with hatred for Fang Jinyao's father. Wen Ran's pride, unyielding even after reincarnation, burned fiercely. In his past life, someone like that would have been nothing but an insect to crush. Now, having started anew, the indignity of being beneath such a man gnawed at him.
He moved swiftly, faster than his current cultivation stage should allow. Each step demonstrated the raw potential that set him apart from his peers. It was only later that Wen Ran would come to realize just how far behind this world was, where even this display of strength would be considered heaven-defying.
Like a shadow, he slipped into the palace undetected. Navigating through its halls with the ease of a seasoned thief, Wen Ran reached Fang Jinyao's room. His eyes locked onto his prize: the black sword. Its presence dominated the space, exuding an aura so powerful it felt alive. He could feel it resonating with his own energy, stronger now than before.
Stepping forward slowly, he reached for the weapon, savoring the moment.
Everything is going according to plan. Good... Let's end this quest early, shall we? His voice carried a sinister edge.
As his hand wrapped around the sword, an electric jolt coursed through his body. The blade greedily absorbed his spiritual energy, almost as if testing him. In return, Wen Ran swung it experimentally. The motion was subtle, but its power was devastating. The bed nearby bore the brunt of the strike, the blade slicing cleanly through the fabric and wood as if they were paper. While it didn't cut through completely, the sharpness was undeniable.
"Hahaha!" His laughter filled the room, maniacal and full of satisfaction. "Good. I love this. How I missed having power in my hands. These past few days were pure torture..."
With the sword in hand, he made his way to Fang Jinyao's father's room. Pushing the door open carefully, he stepped into the spacious chamber. The air was dense with spiritual energy, though not as concentrated as in Fang Jinyao's room.
Closing the door behind him, Wen Ran assessed the space. When he returns, he won't sense me as long as I conceal my aura properly. He'd never suspect someone hiding here. All I need is one clean strike, a fatal blow to the heart from the shadows. That should save me a lot of trouble.
His internal monologue abruptly ended as he froze in place. A cold blade pierced through his back, exiting cleanly through his chest. His heart shattered instantly, leaving no chance for resistance.
The man's body jerked, his cultivation somehow sealed, rendering him powerless. Blood splattered onto the floor as the blade withdrew, the sound of metal slicing flesh echoing in the room.
"Y-you!" The man choked, turning his head just enough to see his assailant. His eyes widened in terror and disbelief. The slave—the very man he had mocked and insulted countless times—stood before him, holding the blood-stained black sword.
"What you?" Wen Ran replied, his voice devoid of emotion. With precise, swift strikes, he severed the man's left arm, followed quickly by the right. Blood gushed like a waterfall, pooling on the floor. Wen Ran extended his index finger, and the blood began to float, wavering slightly in the air. Manipulating it wasn't easy, but with his deep understanding of spiritual energy control, he made it move, taking form bit by bit.
The middle-aged man trembled in fear, his remaining strength sapped by the overwhelming loss of blood. "D-demon... Demonic arts!" he stuttered, his voice shaking. He had heard stories of demonic cultivators—true devils who tortured their prey, turned them into slaves, or even refined them into pills.
"Good that you know," Wen Ran said calmly, his tone icy. "Now, die, you old dog."
The man collapsed to the ground, his face twisted in horror and agony. Without his heart, and with so much blood drained, even a cultivator's resilience couldn't save him. To Wen Ran, he was nothing more than a pile of useless flesh—trash unworthy of even existing.
With one final motion, Wen Ran slashed through the man's neck with his own blood, ending his life definitively.
"Now... the rest of the town," he muttered, a sinister glint flashing in his crimson eyes.
But before he could leave, a massive surge of spiritual energy exploded from the lifeless body on the ground, slamming into Wen Ran like a tidal wave.