Death Cultivator : Rise For Revenge!

Chapter 4

The cacophony of clashing steel and war cries tore through the sky. The Meng Clan and hundreds of cultivators from their vassal sects—the Xi, Lu, and Qiu Clans—surged forward like a tidal wave. Thousands of spiritual energies in a kaleidoscope of colors shot through the air, all targeting the solitary figure standing at the gates.

In the eye of this storm, Huo Tian Xian remained as unshakeable as a primordial cliff.

There was no panic in his eyes, no flicker of doubt. There was only a cold, pre-programmed fury.

"How dare a low-born Demonic Cultivator challenge the Meng Clan!" Commander Zhang roared, launching a lethal Flame Blade Technique. A massive arc of fire sliced toward Tian Xian.

Tian Xian merely let out a low chuckle—a sound like the cracking of ancient ice.

Swusshh!

He did not dodge. Instead, he channeled his dark-crimson energy into his blade. The sword, which had been merely glowing, now unleashed a thick, suffocating demonic miasma. It formed a swirling vortex that hungrily absorbed every scrap of spiritual energy thrown at it. Commander Zhang’s Flame Blade, instead of burning him, flickered and was sucked into the crimson maelstrom.

Commander Zhang gasped, his eyes wide with terror. "What energy is this?! Why... why is my Spiritual Core weakening? What are you doing to me?!"

Before he could react, Tian Xian was already before him. He didn't even use his sword; he simply pressed his palm against the Commander’s chest.

Krakk!

Commander Zhang was hurled backward, his body crashing into the dirt. Black blood sprayed from his mouth in a violent arc. His Spiritual Core—the very heart of his cultivation—had been shattered into dust. In a single heartbeat, the proud general of the Meng Clan was reduced to a crippled, pathetic shadow of a man.

The Commander curled into a ball, unable to withstand the agonizing shock racking his body.

Tian Xian looked down at him without expression, like a demon devoid of mercy.

"You think I came here to fight?" Tian Xian’s voice echoed across the battlefield. "I have come to harvest what you have sown."

He leapt high into the air, his red blade spinning rapidly above his head. Thousands of threads of Demonic Spiritual Energy erupted from the steel, seeking out every gap in the enemy’s defense.

Technique: Army of Scarlet Shadows.

Hundreds of dark reflections of himself manifested within the sea of cultivators. Each shadow wielded an identical crimson blade. The slaughter began in earnest. The war cries of the Meng Clan instantly transformed into a never-ending chorus of agony.

Atop the gatehouse, Huo Li Yu watched through a veil of tears. She saw her brother—a man who had become incredibly powerful, yet possessed an aura that was utterly alien. This power felt worlds away from the sacred cultivation teachings of the Huo Clan.

"Xian... how much must you have suffered to attain a power this cruel?" she thought, her heart breaking.

Her beautiful, swollen face was drenched in tears. Since the night of their ruin, sorrow had been her only companion. Now, her tears fell for her brother, who fought alone against the swarming masses below.

She desperately wanted to descend and embrace him, but the crimson energy cage held her fast—protecting her while keeping her prisoner. She could only watch in helpless resignation, praying for his safety.

"You are all I have left, Xian... Please, stay whole. Please, stay alive."

Meanwhile, inside the main hall, Meng Jiu Ning watched the carnage from a window, his face darkening with every passing second. The core disciples of the Meng Clan—and even the vassal clan leaders he had forced to the front lines—were falling like flies.

"Dammit! What is this power? That isn't a standard cultivation technique!" Meng Jiu Ning snarled.

Qin Niang, his wife, stepped closer, her face pale with panic. "Jiu Ning, we can't let this continue. The boy’s strength is rising too fast. It's impossible! We took his Spiritual Core ourselves—he should be dead or a crippled beggar! This... this must be related to that place!"

Meng Jiu Ning’s eyes widened at the mention of 'that place.' "Impossible, my love. Anyone who dares enter that abyss ends up mad or dead. Unless..."

They locked eyes, their thoughts converging on a forbidden legend.

"The First Elder!" Meng Jiu Ning shouted, his voice finally betraying his fear. "Summon the First Elder! Only he can counter power of this nature!"

A trusted disciple scrambled away, stumbling in his haste, sweat pouring down his face as he raced to fulfill the order.

Back on the battlefield, Huo Tian Xian felt as if he were dancing through a rain of blood. He savored every second of his retribution, relishing the groans of pain that filled the air.

"Vengeance... I must have my vengeance," the mantra looped endlessly in his mind, searing away the trauma of his past.

As he cleaved through two minor clan leaders who tried to ambush him from behind, his gaze drifted to the high walls of the Meng estate. There, carved in stone, were the twin dragons—the symbol of Meng authority.

Tian Xian smirked. He pointed his red blade, and a beam of spiritual energy sliced a perfect line through the wall. The solid stone shattered, revealing the hidden corridors within.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted a young servant girl cowering in the shadows, shivering in terror. Tian Xian’s gaze lingered on her for a fraction of a second.

Why is she still here? The other servants fled, yet she remains near this heap of filth?

Suddenly, a flash of memory flickered in his mind—not the trauma of his clan's fall, but a memory from his healing in the Black Forest.

"If you wish to subdue the darkness, you must embrace it. If you wish to possess the power of a demon, you must find the seed hidden in the most sacred of places..." The cold, ethereal voice echoed in his mind.

Tian Xian shook his head, banishing the fragmented thought. His focus snapped back to the war.

However, he did not kill the servant. He simply moved past her.

Jleb!

Suddenly, a massive surge of spiritual energy struck him from the side. This energy was pure, holy, and incredibly potent—the polar opposite of his demonic miasma.

Tian Xian was sent skidding back, his feet carving ruts into the blood-soaked earth. He stood his ground, spitting out a mouthful of blood. It was the first time he had been wounded since his awakening.

"Such insolence, boy! To think you would challenge a Great Clan alone!"

An old man clad in immaculate white robes, with a long silver beard and a dragon-headed staff, stood at the entrance of the main hall. His aura was as vast as the sky, dwarfing even that of Meng Jiu Ning.

The First Elder of the Meng Clan: Meng Shan.

Meng Shan was known as the final bastion of the Meng Clan—a cultivator at the peak of his realm, bordering on the level of an Earth Deity.

"Ah, the First Elder," Tian Xian sneered, wiping the blood from the corner of his lip. His eyes flared with a demonic light. "Finally, a harvest worth reaping. I have come for your blood and the Meng Clan’s spiritual treasures, piece by bloody piece!"

The true battle—against the backbone of the Meng Clan—had only just begun.