Chapter Eleven: Twisted Slaughter

When Lei Yan arrived at the front courtyard, he discovered that Lei Wanchun was already there waiting. He immediately stepped forward and called out, "Ancestor!"

"Hmm! Is everything ready?" Lei Wanchun glanced at Lei Yan indifferently and asked.

"Yes, Ancestor!" Lei Yan nodded.

"Then let’s go!" As soon as Lei Wanchun finished speaking, a swirl of black mist surged from his body, instantly shrouding Lei Yan. Then Lei Wanchun rose into the air, flying outward.

Lei Yan, enveloped entirely by the black fog, could see nothing of the outside world, but from the wind whistling past his ears, he could tell he was soaring through the sky. They flew for nearly two hours, as dusk gradually deepened. Suddenly, Lei Wanchun descended from the air.

With a heavy thud, Lei Yan was thrown to the ground. Before he could even cry out in pain, Lei Wanchun had lifted him to his feet.

"Stand here. Don’t go anywhere!" As if still uneasy, Lei Wanchun fished several small flags from his robes. With a series of sharp sounds, the flags, shrouded in black energy, stabbed into the ground all around Lei Yan.

"Don’t you dare try to leave this circle of flags—it will cost you your life!" Without another word, Lei Wanchun strode away toward the forest’s edge.

Only after Lei Wanchun had gone did Lei Yan take in his surroundings. He now stood at the border of a forest. The direction in which Lei Wanchun was headed led to a small village beyond the trees; Lei Yan could make out the glimmer of the village lights in the distance.

"Hahaha… Heaven truly favors me—this village has just the right number of people!" Lei Wanchun laughed viciously. Upon entering the village, he had already swept it with his spiritual sense, counting its inhabitants.

Many villagers, hearing the sudden, inexplicable laughter, stepped out of their homes. When they saw the man in black, his face twisted in a savage and terrifying expression, they froze, unable to fathom who he was or what he wanted here.

Inside a thatched cottage, Xiao Hong, who had been lying in bed, about to sleep, heard the deranged laughter and, curious, peered out the window. She wondered who could laugh so horribly, so brazenly; she was certain there was no one like that in their village.

As she leaned her head out, she witnessed a scene she would never be able to forget. The uncouth, black-clad man flashed like a wraith to the village chief’s side. A pale, sinister hand seized the chief’s head, lifting him with ease. The chief’s face contorted in agony, yet he uttered not a single sound.

"Hahaha!" Lei Wanchun sneered cruelly at the twitching chief. "Hurts, doesn’t it? Beg me! Beg me, and I might let you go!"

With great effort, the chief maintained his defiant expression, glaring at this man who seemed like the very devil. The people of this village were simple folk, but they had their dignity, their own stubborn pride.

With all his strength, the chief spat at Lei Wanchun, expressing the disdain and contempt he still felt in his heart. It was all he could do; his meridians had been sealed by Lei Wanchun, leaving him completely paralyzed. If not for Lei Wanchun’s desire to hear him speak, he wouldn’t even have been able to spit. But how could an Immortal Cultivator at the late Golden Core stage be struck by a mere mortal’s spit?

With a slight tilt of his head, Lei Wanchun looked at the stubborn chief, his face twisted into a sadistic, deranged grin.

A fit of mad laughter—and then, crack! Amidst his cackling, a sharp sound came from the chief’s shoulder as Lei Wanchun broke his right arm. The air filled with the chief’s anguished screams, and with a dull thud, Xiao Hong and all the villagers watched in horror as the chief’s head was crushed in Lei Wanchun’s grasp, white brain matter splattering in all directions, blood spurting like a fountain from the shattered skull.

A crisp, tearing sound followed as Lei Wanchun ripped the chief’s body apart. Not even in death did he leave the man whole. With a wave, the sundered corpse was flung into the air.

Inside her house, Xiao Hong stared, dumbfounded. My god… How could there be such evil in the world? Why did he do this to the chief? Why…

Lei Wanchun spun around, his eyes wild, licking the blood from his lips, his laughter perverse and unrestrained. "Hahaha… All of you, kneel and beg me!"

Demon! I will kill you!

With shouts of rage, the remaining men of the village gritted their teeth and charged at Lei Wanchun.

Snap, snap…

Though these men were strong for villagers, they were still ordinary people—not even martial artists. For a cultivator, they were less than nothing. In an instant, every one of them collapsed. Lei Wanchun did not kill them outright; instead, he broke their arms and legs. Then, with a fiery red flying sword, he slashed them, letting their blood pour out as they lay helpless, forced to watch themselves bleed to death. Yet even this did not satisfy Lei Wanchun.

"Now all of you, get out here! Anyone who stays inside—dies!" His voice resounded throughout the village.

Before long, some of the old, weak, women, and children, trembling with fear, emerged. Others, still clinging to hope, remained hidden in their houses.

Lei Wanchun spared none of those harboring hope. Each time his red sword flew out, it returned with another head. He tossed the severed heads to the dying men on the ground. "I wonder if any of your loved ones are among these, hahaha!"

"Beast!"

"Bastard!"

"Demon!"

A few feeble curses escaped the bloodied men lying on the ground.

"Good! Excellent! Keep cursing! Maybe those I just killed weren't your kin, but surely among this next group, there will be," Lei Wanchun laughed, pointing at the huddled group of trembling women and children.

One man, lying on the ground, caught sight of his daughter, Xiao Hong, hiding behind a woman. His heart ached, and he called out to Lei Wanchun, "What do you want? If you spare them, I’ll do anything you ask!"

"Anything? Beg me! Beg, and maybe I’ll let them live!" Lei Wanchun had already caught his glance and fixed his gaze on the group.

"I beg you, please let them go!" the man pleaded, his voice broken with sobs.

Xiao Hong was so terrified she dared not move, not even when she saw her father lying in a pool of blood, begging. She dared not speak or make a sound.

A streak of red light flashed; several more heads landed beside the dying men.

"No—!" A heartrending scream was followed by a gush of blood from the man’s mouth as he fell unconscious.

Lei Wanchun could have killed them all at once, but he wanted to forge a Blood Soul Banner. The stronger their resentment at death, the more powerful the banner would become.

Inevitably, all were tortured to death by Lei Wanchun. Over the village, black mists began to gather in the air. Lei Wanchun, forming incantations with his fingers, summoned a small banner from within his body and sent it soaring into the sky.