Chapter 118: Rogue Cultivators of the Central Region

"What bold words!"

Seeing the situation, the other three immediately lunged at Song Yan.

However, at that very moment, a sudden change occurred! A figure in a black robe burst out from nowhere and kicked one of the sixth-level Qi Refining cultivators directly in the chest.

"Urgh..."

To everyone's astonishment, the protective spiritual armor was shattered by that single kick! The mysterious figure in black moved with seamless fluidity, closing the distance instantly and grabbing the man by the head.

Drawing his horizontal blade, he struck.

*Puff.*

A sixth-level Qi Refining cultivator, decapitated by a single stroke.

The head flew high into the air, fell to the ground, and rolled several times before hitting a jagged rock. In those glazing eyes remained shock, terror, and a hint of bewilderment.

"What?!"

The black-robed figure tossed the head aside carelessly and formed a strange gesture with his fingertips. The blood-gushing corpse began to wither rapidly, its vital essence condensing into a single blood bead that landed in the figure's palm.

"Who are you?!"

The leader’s voice trembled, his heart filled with dread. This person had not revealed a shred of aura from start to finish; he hadn't even noticed when the stranger had appeared.

"You had better... look after yourself instead."

Song Yan’s calm voice came from behind him.

*Hum—*

In the instant the leader turned back, a highly condensed sword essence had already pierced through his protective spiritual armor. The small gong artifact shattered with a boom.

"How is this possible?!"

He knew the operation had failed, but the opponent was so powerful that he didn't even have time to wonder why. Nine white sword beams, accompanied by wind and thunder, swirled around him. Under the violent sword qi, his protective spiritual armor struggled to take form, only to be shredded by the wind and thunder the moment it manifested.

*Clang.*
*Clang.*
*Clang.*

Six sword shadows gave him no chance to beg for mercy, piercing his body one by one. In his final moments, he saw the remaining three sword shadows converge in the air and descend sharply.

*Boom—*

The sword qi surged outward like a tidal wave.

At the same time, the black-robed figure’s powerful hands had already gripped the collar of the last sixth-level cultivator. With a forceful jerk, he pulled the man toward him, executed a backhand blade strike, held the blade against his throat, and withdrew it in a flash.

*Puff.*

Blood gushed like a fountain.

Seeing the grim situation, the fifth-level Qi Refining cultivator fled toward the back of the mountain. The black-robed figure wiped his blade casually, flipped it in his hand, and hurled it with immense force.

The blood-stained blade pierced through the man instantly, its momentum undiminished, carrying the mangled flesh several feet forward and pinning the corpse to the cliff face.

The corpse swayed.

...

From start to finish, only a few breaths had passed. The so-called Five Demons of Cold Mountain were all dead.

Song Yan walked over slowly. Several white sword shadows descended from the air, returning one by one to the sword box on his back. He pulled the blood-stained blade from the cliff and tossed it to the other man.

"Why are you here?"

The black-robed man caught it smoothly. Walking through the pool of blood on the ground, he replied in a relaxed tone, "That’s what I should ask you. How is it that you’re everywhere?"

It was Sheng Nian.

"Dr. Song, now that you’ve joined the immortal sects, you’re no less ruthless than a demonic cultivator like me when it comes to killing."

He flicked the horizontal blade, letting the blood gather along the edge and splatter onto the ground. He then wiped it on his arm and sheathed the weapon.

Song Yan chuckled coldly, "Aren't these your colleagues?"

Sheng Nian seemed indifferent. "Demonic cultivators don't have colleagues." He wiped his face, concealing his features once more, his voice muffled. "This is no place for a reunion. I’ll wait for you at the Yin-Yun Pavilion in the Cold Mountain Market."

Watching Sheng Nian’s figure disappear into the woods, Song Yan raised an eyebrow and began to clean up the battlefield. Xiao He had already collected all the storage bags from the men, saving him the trouble. He didn't know where Sheng Nian had made his fortune, but the man didn't even bother to look at these bags; he was truly wealthy and arrogant.

Song Yan removed the heads of the cultivators one by one and stored them in a dedicated bag. These were items that could be traded for merit. He snapped his fingers, releasing spirits flames that reduced the demonic corpses to ash.

Afterward, as if nothing had happened, he continued toward Little Cold Mountain.

About an hour later, he arrived at the front of the mountain. Though called the Cold Mountain Market, it was actually hidden within a valley. From the outside, waterfalls of clouds shrouded the peaks, creating a unique vista—in reality, merely an illusion array to deter mortals.

He walked into the valley, and the scenery suddenly opened up. The secluded valley was surrounded by mountains on three sides, and directly opposite the entrance was the highest peak of Little Cold Mountain. The slopes on either side were more gradual, and the red leaves in the mountains looked like blood.

At a glance, the market covered over a hundred acres, with many building complexes built against the mountainside. There were quite a few people in the market, and the spiritual fluctuations he sensed were all around the Qi Refining stage.

"Better go find Sheng Nian first."

Truth be told, Song Yan didn't know where the Yin-Yun Pavilion was. It was his first time at the Cold Mountain Market. He hadn't asked Sheng Nian because he didn't want to look foolish. Fortunately, the Yin-Yun Pavilion wasn't tucked away; following the main thoroughfare, he soon spotted its sign.

It was a small tavern. Not large, but clean enough, and filled with quite a few cultivators. As he stepped inside, a waiter immediately rushed up to greet him.

"Sir, are you..."

"I'm expected."

The waiter paused, then seemed to realize something. "Ah, understood. Please, follow me."

Following the waiter upstairs, he pushed open the door to a private room and saw Sheng Nian, who was still keeping his identity hidden.

"Dr. Song, you're quite bold..."

The waiter left and closed the door, the soundproofing array taking effect. Only then did Sheng Nian remove his disguise.

Song Yan sat down opposite him. "Didn't you say it yourself? I’m a righteous cultivator; there’s no need for me to wrap myself up like a mummy."

In truth, it was because he had no more means of disguise. His only human-skin mask had been taken by the child, Xiang Zhaoling, and he hadn't found a suitable replacement since. Not wanting to waste time, he asked directly, "What are you doing here?"

Sheng Nian took a deep breath. "I'm here under orders to wade into this mess."

"Under orders? Whose orders?"

"It’s a long story, so I don’t feel like telling it."

Song Yan didn't press him, instead cutting straight to a question he was more desperate to have answered. "Why did those demonic cultivators come here? Do you know?"

Sheng Nian nodded. "Yes, it has to do with a rogue cultivator who fled from the Central Region."

"The Central Region..." That was a very distant place.

"Exactly. I heard this from a rather secret source. In fact, most of the demonic cultivators currently in Changping probably have no idea what’s actually going on. They were just lured here to serve as cannon fodder."

Sheng Nian began to recount what he knew. "It is said that not long ago, there was a major uprising in the Great Tang of the Central Region. Although it was suppressed quickly, some accidents occurred. A demonic rogue cultivator managed to escape."

"His name is Jin Tianya."