131: Encountering a demonic cultivator

Seeing that the mountains ahead were gradually leveling off and the outline of a blue-brick city wall had emerged in the mist, Lin Yan slowed the flying boat, preparing to descend to enter the city.

At this moment, his Divine Sense keenly detected several cold probes sweeping over him.

The Divine Sense was like poison-dipped needles, carrying clear malice.

"Am I being targeted?" Lin Yan gasped: "The outside world is truly treacherous."

Fortunately, his Divine Sense was far stronger than an ordinary Foundation Establishment Cultivator; the moment these weak Divine Senses made contact, he locked onto them in return.

Three Cultivators were hiding in the forest below, all at the Early Stage of Foundation Establishment. Their auras were chaotic, and their Qi faintly revealed a stench of blood and decay—they were clearly Demonic Cultivators practicing Demonic Technique!

"Hmph, death-seeking things." Lin Yan sneered inwardly.

He remained calm, controlling the flying boat to land slowly at the edge of the forest three miles outside the city, then walked calmly toward the city ahead.

Sure enough, he hadn't walked many steps before three figures flashed out from the shadows, surrounding him with a "swish."

The leader was a tall, thin man with triangular eyes, a scar across his face, and a short blade emitting black Qi.

On the left was a short, stout woman with a strange smile on her lips, and on the right was an expressionless youth.

"Kid, hand over your Storage Pouch, and Grandpa here will give you a quick death!" The scar-faced man with triangular eyes licked his lips, the scent of blood in his Qi growing stronger: "If you dare to play any tricks... hehe, I'll let you taste the flavor of my 'Blood Soul Blade'!"

Lin Yan swept his gaze over the three, understanding immediately that this was a case of Demonic Cultivators robbing others for money and life.

He calmly tightened his grip on the qinggang sword inside his sleeve, a layer of pale cyan Sword Intent shimmering at his fingertips.

Since they were seeking death, he would grant it to them.

"Too much nonsense." Lin Yan spoke indifferently, and before his voice had even faded, his figure moved like a ghost!

He formed a seal with his left hand, activating the Yu Ling Sword Technique.

The qinggang sword shot out from his sleeve with a "clang," transforming into a cyan bolt of lightning, wrapped in sharp Sword Intent, aiming straight for the throat of the scar-faced man with triangular eyes!

The scar-faced man was shocked and hurriedly swung his Blood Soul Blade to block, but how sharp was the Sword Intent of the qinggang sword?

With a "pfft" sound, the black Qi of the Blood Soul Blade was instantly torn apart by the Sword Intent, and the qinggang sword pierced through his neck without any obstruction, spraying a burst of black blood!

"You... you actually have Sword Intent..." The scar-faced man's eyes were filled with disbelief, his body collapsing limply to the ground as his life was severed.

The other two saw this, their expressions changing drastically.

They had kicked an iron plate.

In the Jianghu of Loose Cultivators, Sword Intent was extremely rare; few Foundation Establishment Cultivators achieved it.

"Attack! Release the Corpse Puppet!" the short, stout woman screamed.

Hearing this, the youth suddenly waved his sleeve, and a Corpse Puppet at the Late Stage of Foundation Establishment flew out.

The Corpse Puppet grew upon meeting the wind, transforming in the blink of an eye into a ten-foot-tall Rotting Bone Corpse Puppet, covered in rotting flesh, its claws like hooks, spitting green poisonous mist from its mouth as it lunged straight at Lin Yan's face!

"Is this your reliance?" Lin Yan's eyes turned cold.

A Corpse Puppet at the Late Stage of Foundation Establishment would make even an average Middle Stage Foundation Establishment Cultivator avoid its edge, let alone someone at the Early Stage.

But Lin Yan was not an average Foundation Establishment Cultivator.

Instead of retreating, he advanced. The Seventh-Grade Dao Foundation in his Dantian slowly emitted a cyan light, and the Qi in his meridians immediately became more condensed and powerful.

The power of the Seventh-Grade Dao Foundation!

Lin Yan's Qi intensity instantly reached the level of the Middle Stage of Foundation Establishment.

The qinggang sword drew an arc of Sword Qi in the air, like a cyan rainbow piercing the sun, instantly slashing toward the short, stout woman!

The woman hurriedly summoned a skull shield, but it was shredded to pieces by the Sword Qi.

The qinggang sword's momentum remained undiminished, piercing through her chest and pinning her to a large tree; her body rapidly withered, turning into a dried corpse.

Only the expressionless youth remained. Seeing his companions die one after another, fear finally appeared in his eyes, and he turned to flee, but how could Lin Yan give him a chance?

"Flee?" Lin Yan sneered, his fingertip Sword Intent surging.

A wisp of Wind Intent emerged, merging into the sword body.

Blessed by both Sword Intent and Wind Intent, the qinggang sword transformed into a sky full of sword shadows, covering the youth and the Rotting Bone Corpse Puppet like a rainstorm!

"No!!!" the youth screamed in despair, attempting to control the Corpse Puppet to block.

But the sword shadows were inescapable, instantly piercing through the Corpse Puppet's rotting flesh and shattering its vengeful soul core.

A Corpse Puppet at the Late Stage of Foundation Establishment was not the equal of a Cultivator at the same level.

Immediately after, the sharpest Sword Qi went straight for the youth's glabella.

"Pfft!"

A thin line of blood appeared on the youth's glabella, and then his entire body split in two, without even enough time to let out a scream.

The Rotting Bone Corpse Puppet, losing control, also turned into a pile of black ash, scattering on the ground.

Lin Yan stood with his sword retracted; the bloodstains on the qinggang sword automatically dissipated, restoring it to a crystal-clear cyan.

He swept his gaze over the three corpses and the pile of black ash on the ground, his brows slightly furrowed.

"What's been happening lately? Why are Demonic Cultivators in the outside world so rampant?"

He crouched down and searched the scar-faced man's Storage Pouch, finding over a hundred Spirit Stones and a bottle of pills emitting a bloody scent.

He also found a blood-colored token on the youth, with a twisted "Demon" character engraved on it and the words "Black Fiend Hall" written in small characters on the back.

"Black Fiend Hall... a branch of the Corpse Puppet Sect?" Lin Yan silently repeated the name and put the token into his Storage Pouch.

These Demonic Cultivators were very poor; the total Spirit Stones added up to only two hundred, which left Lin Yan very disappointed.

He had even fantasized about making a fortune as a robber.

"Consider it a good deed."

Lin Yan looked up at the nearby city, where the banners on the city walls were flapping in the wind, inscribed with the three large characters "Qingshi City."

He changed into a washed-out blue cloth shirt, put away the qinggang sword, and like a scholar wandering through villages, strolled slowly into the main street.

The Canglan Realm was full of vitality and rich in produce.

If there were no safety issues, the lives of Mortals were actually quite good.

The streets were crowded with hawking vendors: an old artisan selling bamboo-woven utensils, a woman selling sugar paintings, a young attendant selling braised dishes...

Having cultivated in the mountains for so long, it was rare to experience the worldly atmosphere of a city, which left Lin Yan feeling a bit dazed for a moment.

He wandered aimlessly through the streets and alleys.

At this moment, a burst of mellow wine fragrance caught his attention.

The wine fragrance was not like the crisp and ostentatious spirit wine of the cultivation world, but rather like aged honey buried under an old locust tree, mixed with the burnt aroma of wheat bran, the crispness of mountain spring water, and a faint, warm hint of worldly smoke, making it extremely pure.

Smelling the wine fragrance, Lin Yan's footsteps slowed involuntarily.

Following the scent, he saw a simple winery set up in an alley at the end of the street.

Under a blue-tiled shed sat a large, pitch-black pottery vat, and in front of the vat stood an old man with white hair.

He wore coarse linen short clothes, his cuffs stained with wine, and was bending over to stir the grains in the vat.

The old man's movements were extremely slow; the wooden ladle turned three times clockwise, then once counter-clockwise, each movement revealing naturalness and composure.

Beside him was a pile of freshly steamed glutinous rice, the heat carrying the fragrance of rice as it wafted out, tangling with the wine aroma and soaking the entire alley in warmth.

"Young man, do you want to taste some new wine?" The old man heard the footsteps, looked up, and smiled, his eye wrinkles filled with sunlight: "Just opened the jar, it's rice wine brewed with mountain spring water from the back mountain; it's very fragrant."