12: Chapter 12 The Mine Owner

In mid-air, an old man stood on a Flying Sword interwoven with three-colored spiritual power.

His face was covered in gully-like wrinkles, and silver strands were interwoven within his black hair, just like the lingering snow of a winter mountain covering gnarled branches.

Although he appeared weary, his slightly narrowed eyes burst forth with a piercing sharpness, and the Aura around him caused the air to tremble slightly.

The Flying Sword beneath his feet flowed with orange-red, azure, and golden light, identical to the Sharp Weapon that had previously slain Lang Xiao, deterring everyone from daring to look up.

The old man slowly raised his withered palm, his knuckles like the gnarled roots of an old pine tree.

As he turned it, it unexpectedly condensed into a strange rhythm.

His left thumb and index finger formed a ring, and his ring finger flicked out like a sword finger.

Three-colored spiritual light slowly wandered and merged in his palm, instantly condensing into a scorching three-colored fireball.

He raised his hand and swung it violently, and the three-colored fireball instantly broke through the air, dragging out a brilliant and dazzling three-colored tail of fire, carrying a scorching heat wave, as it plummeted directly onto Lang Xiao's corpse.

"Crackle," the fireball plummeted directly onto Lang Xiao's corpse.

In an instant, the corpse turned to ash in the three-colored flames, and the smell of burning filled the surroundings.

Lang Xiao's nine subordinates were stunned like wooden chickens, not daring to let out a breath.

"If even the boss is so vulnerable, what are we?" one person whispered tremblingly.

The others were pale.

Under the pressure of the Cultivator, they knew deeply that they were nothing but ants, waiting for an unknown ending with hearts full of despair.

"Your evil deeds still had a bottom line; you did not stain your hands with the blood of the innocent," the old man's voice was like thunder.

"Today I will spare you; leave immediately, and never enter this place again for all eternity!"

The nine people felt as if they had received a pardon, kneeling and kowtowing in unison, the sound of their foreheads hitting the ground echoing throughout the Mining Site.

"Many thanks to the Immortal Elder for sparing our lives."

They scrambled to their feet and ran wolfishly toward the outside of The Mine.

The old man watched the nine people leave, then looked at the Miner corpses lying across the ground.

As the Elder guarding the mineral vein, he was supposed to strictly abide by the iron rule of the Immortal Realm: "Do not involve oneself with the mundane."

Previously, when the Man in Bamboo Hat extracted Spirit Stones from the Miners, he chose to acquiesce.

Those Spirit Stones would eventually turn into his contribution points, and the deterrent force of this group of people had unexpectedly increased the production of the Mining Site.

To complete the Sect's tasks and the extra extraction, the Miners had to work twice as hard, which instead led to a significant increase in Spirit Stone output.

He had always turned a blind eye to this delicate balance.

But Lang Xiao's indiscriminate killing of the innocent had completely angered the Elder.

Miners were an important labor force; for every one less, the monthly income decreased by two hundred Spirit Stones.

Slaying Lang Xiao both upheld the Heavenly Dao and preserved his interests; it could be said to be killing two birds with one stone.

Yun Song, who was watching from the side, witnessed all of this and was too shocked to speak.

"This is the strength of a Cultivator..." he muttered to himself, but the light in his eyes quickly dimmed.

Without a Spiritual Root, he was destined to have no connection with cultivation.

Sorrow and despair surged in his heart; he clenched his fists, but he was powerless to change the cruel reality.

The mountain wind swept by, leaving only a heavy sigh echoing in the Mining Site.

Yun Song stood frozen in place, the agile figure of the Martial Artist still surging in his mind.

Yet the Cultivator's fleeting, world-shaking methods struck like a heavy hammer, completely shattering his understanding of power.

With that three-colored flowing Flying Sword suspended in the sky, by comparison, the Martial Artist's martial arts seemed like children playing, not worth mentioning.

"Everyone disperse," the Elder's voice rang out like a great bell throughout the Mining Site, carrying an unquestionable majesty.

"Those who have not completed their tasks, go to work immediately."

The crowd woke as if from a dream, their footsteps floating as they dispersed one after another, the Killing Intent from just moments ago still lingering in the air.

Just as Yun Song turned around, a sharp sound of breaking through the air suddenly came from the sky.

He saw ten streaks of light like meteors streaking across, carrying a sharp Aura, speeding over from the vast sky.

When the figures got closer and hovered in mid-air, he could clearly see that they were ten Cultivators dressed in moon-white robes.

The cloud patterns woven with silver thread on the corners of their robes were faintly visible, and spiritual light flowed around them, their bearing extraordinary.