Chương 53: Chapter 54: The Wicked Cultivator

As the tension reached a breaking point, a tall, burly man with a jagged scar cutting across his face spurred his horse forward from the bandit ranks. Gu Tianbei's heart eased slightly upon recognizing the rider. He cupped his hands in a respectful greeting, a forced smile playing on his lips.

"So, it is Great Leader Ma. It seems there has been a significant misunderstanding today. Perhaps you could have your brothers pull back a little? We can sit down and discuss this properly." Great Leader Ma trotted forward, his expression unreadable. Gu Tianbei, hoping to maintain the rapport, mounted one of the merchant caravan's horses and rode out to meet him halfway.

"Brother Gu Tianbei," Ma began, his voice echoing across the dusty path.

"I didn't expect you to be personally leading the way today. Well, since you're here, I suppose I should..." Before the sentence could finish, a murderous glint flashed in Ma's eyes. A brilliant, cold arc of blade-light sliced through the air. Gu Tianbei's massive head was sent spiraling into the sky, his eyes still wide with a look of utter disbelief as his torso remained upright for a heartbeat. Blood erupted from his severed neck like a crimson geyser.

His body swayed twice before collapsing into the dirt with a heavy thud.

"Elder Gu Tianbei has been murdered!"

"The Great Leader knew the Elder, yet he struck him down without hesitation! They don't intend to leave any of us alive!"

"Run! Flee for your lives, or we're all dead!"

"Run!" With Gu Tianbei's death, the entire column dissolved into a chaotic frenzy. The established merchant caravans fared better; though their guards and porters were pale with terror, they didn't break rank like the solo travelers. They knew all too well that scattering now would only make them easier prey.

"Hahaha! Kill them all, brothers!" Great Leader Ma shouted, waving his hand with predatory vigor.

"The old rules apply: thirty percent of the loot goes to the treasury, and the rest is yours to keep!" Behind him, the horde of bandits let out bloodthirsty howls, charging forward like a pack of starving wolves.

"Hehe, with so many bandits charging us, isn't Big Brother even a little bit afraid?" Li Xiumei asked, her eyes darting around with a hint of playful mischief. Reyn raised an eyebrow, a calm smile touching his face.

"Since my 'Little Brother' looks so composed, it would hardly befit my dignity as the elder if I were to lose my head in a panic."

"Well said, Big Brother." The two shared a look and burst into simultaneous laughter. Meanwhile, the honest laborer on their carriage was white as a sheet, huddling in the back of the wagon. Seeing the two of them chatting and laughing in the face of certain death, he could only manage a bitter, trembling smile. He thought to himself that these two youngsters truly didn't know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth; they probably thought they were in some storybook.

A bandit's saber didn't care for heroics—it only cared for blood.

"Martial Uncle Xuan Le, the bandits are slaughtering them. Should we step in and offer some resistance?" In another caravan, the white-haired elder in luxurious robes was shielded by several youths. The one speaking was a lad of about seventeen or eighteen, his face etched with a flickering sense of pity. The other young disciples nearby shared his unease, though a few—including Wang Zihan—merely curled their lips in disdain.

"Silence!" Xuan Le hissed, his face darkening with a cold, sinister intensity that replaced his previous geniality.

"Have you forgotten why we are here undercover? If we reveal our strength for the sake of these mortals, we risk exposing our identities. If we startle that Little Witch and she flees, not only will our plan fail, but we will be hunted to the ends of the earth by the Myriad Extinction Demon Sect! If you want to avenge your masters and your fallen brothers and sisters, stay put and keep your mouths shut! No one moves!" The disciples felt a chill run down their spines.

They immediately lowered their heads, stifling any further protest. Xuan Le nodded in grim satisfaction. They had only tracked the Little Witch's movements thanks to a mysterious benefactor who had also provided the artifacts necessary to mask their spiritual fluctuations. Though the elder suspected they were being used as a 'borrowed knife' to kill another, the burning hatred for his destroyed sect left him little room for hesitation.

As long as he could kill the Little Witch and claim the treasures promised to him, he would vanish into obscurity. Even the Myriad Extinction Demon Sect, with all its terrifying power and countless experts, wouldn't be able to find him. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. With these thoughts, a cold smirk touched Xuan Le's lips. His gaze shifted, scanning the crowd until it landed briefly on Reyn and his companion.

"Ah! Help me!"

"Please, Great Masters of the Road, don't kill me! Here is all my gold, take it all!"

"Don't kill me! Please!" The bandits moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine. A vanguard of dozens of riders didn't slam into the caravan head-on; instead, they swept past in a wide arc, cutting off the escape route and circling back to slaughter the fleeing solo travelers. In mere moments, those who had managed to flee hundreds of meters were overtaken. Regardless of their pleas or offerings, the bandits brought their sabers down without mercy.

The ground was quickly stained a deep crimson, and the metallic stench of fresh blood filled the air. Even the elderly and children were not spared. Only the women with some measure of beauty were dragged aside; the rest were butchered where they stood.

"Great Leader Ma!" one of the spokesmen for the five major merchant houses called out, his face ashen as the scent of slaughter reached him.

"We are willing to surrender half of our goods and two thousand taels of silver from each house. We only ask that you grant us a path to live."

"Hehe, spare me the chatter," Ma sneered, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained greed.

"If you want to live, leave every scrap of cargo and every single woman in this caravan behind. Otherwise, don't dream of leaving this place alive today." The merchant's face turned ghostly pale. For traders like them, their entire lives were tied up in their cargo. To lose it all meant a life of destitution and ruin. Furthermore, the women in the caravan weren't just servants; they were their wives and daughters. To hand them over to these monsters would be a fate worse than death.

"Brothers! These bandits have decided to bury us here!" the merchant roared, his desperation turning into a fierce, terminal courage.

"We might not be their match, but we won't sit here and wait for the blade! Kill them! If we take one down, we break even! If we take two, we profit!"

"Fight them! Kill every last one of them!"

"You want our cargo and our women? Come see if you have the life left to enjoy them!" The caravan workers were men who lived on the edge of a blade. Pushed into a corner, their latent ferocity ignited. Their eyes turned bloodshot, staring at the surrounding bandits like a pack of cornered wolves. Even Great Leader Ma, a man who had waded through rivers of blood, felt a slight tremor at the intensity of their gaze. However, his confidence returned the moment he thought of the Great Enshrinement.

"Since you're so eager to die, I'll grant your wish!" Ma declared arrogantly.

"Hehe, being able to die at the hand of an Immortal is a blessing you don't deserve." He turned toward the rear of his formation and shouted with profound reverence, "We humbly welcome the Great Enshrinement!" The bandits behind him followed suit, their faces filled with awe and terror as they bowed their heads.

"We humbly welcome the Great Enshrinement!" The bandit ranks parted, revealing a small, pitch-black sedan chair following behind the riders. The carriers were two massive men draped in heavy black robes that obscured their features. The sedan chair was vibrating rhythmically, and from within came the muffled, agonized whimpers of a woman.

"Wait a moment. Almost there," a young man's voice drifted from inside. As he spoke, the movements of the sedan grew more violent, and the woman's cries reached a frantic, high-pitched crescendo. Even Ma and his hardened killers looked away, their eyes filled with a primal dread as they buried their heads even lower. Moments later, following two long, satisfied sighs, the shaking stopped. The woman's whimpers ceased abruptly. Thud!

The curtain was kicked open, and a dark shape was hurled out, tumbling across the dirt. Upon closer inspection, it was the naked body of a young woman. She had been quite delicate once, but now her pale skin was a map of dark bruises and horrific trauma. Her lower body was a mess of gore, and her eyes bulged from their sockets—a silent testament to the excruciating agony she had endured before death. A young man in his twenties stepped out of the sedan.

He was passably handsome with a lazy, arrogant smirk, but the sight of the corpse he had just discarded made the onlookers' blood run cold. He was the Great Enshrinement. His cold gaze swept over the caravan, lingering on several women of notable beauty. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face.

"Not bad. You've done well this time. Once we return, I shall officially take you as my disciple and grant you the Supreme Arts of Cultivation."

"Thank you, Great Enshrinement... No! Thank you, Master! Thank you, Master!" Great Leader Ma fell to his knees, kowtowing repeatedly in a state of wild ecstasy. This young man had appeared at their stronghold a month ago and subdued them all with ease, using techniques that seemed like pure sorcery. Since then, he had stayed on as their Great Enshrinement. It was under his direct orders that they had begun slaughtering every caravan they encountered.

The Enshrinement didn't care for gold; he only demanded virginal women to fuel his cultivation. Though the methods were barbaric, Ma didn't care. If he could become an Immortal-like figure, what did a few lives matter?

"Step back for now. I shall handle these people myself," the Great Enshrinement said with a smug grin. He waved his hand, and Ma hurriedly led the bandits back. They had seen his 'Immortal' methods before; being caught in the crossfire was a death sentence.

"Since you refuse to be sensible, this Great Immortal will graciously harvest your souls." A dark light flickered across the man's face. With a flick of his wrist, a pitch-black banner, only a few inches long, appeared in his hand.

"Rise!" He pointed a finger, injecting a burst of dark energy. The black banner expanded instantly, swelling until it was over two meters tall. Though the sun was high, a bone-chilling wind began to howl, carrying the sound of a thousand weeping ghosts. The surface of the banner looked like black cloth, but upon closer inspection, it was composed of countless tiny, distorted female faces—their hair disheveled, their tongues blood-red, emitting a thick, rolling cloud of concentrated resentment.