163: Chapter 163 The Reputation of Taiyue Mountain

He struggled to crawl up, but his legs wouldn't obey him. After bracing himself with his hands twice, he fell back down, large mouthfuls of blood gushing from his mouth.

Xiao Yi's face was deathly pale. The five Foundation Establishment Cultivators behind him protected him as they retreated repeatedly, but after only a few steps, they hit the wall by the street, with nowhere left to retreat.

The hands of all five were trembling, but not one of them dared to draw their swords.

Chan Tian descended from mid-air, landing beside the Gray-robed Elder. He glanced down at him before lifting his head to look at Xiao Yi, a cold sneer hanging on the corners of his lips.

At this moment.

The Foundation Establishment Cultivators behind Xiao Yi quickly stepped forward.

"We are from the Murong Family of Shanhe County City. You Yao Race, do you have a death wish!"

"The Murong Family of Shanhe County?"

Chan Tian sneered and kicked the unconscious Gray-robed Elder aside.

"Nothing but a toothless tiger. Three hundred years ago, your Murong Family had a Nascent Soul expert holding the fort, but now? With only a few kittens left, you dare use them to threaten me?"

He took a step forward, and the five Foundation Establishment Cultivators retreated in unison, their backs hitting the wall, with nowhere left to retreat.

"If your Murong Family dares to come for me, I will make them pay dearly all the same."

Chan Tian licked his lips, staring at Xiao Yi.

"Now, let's continue our previous conversation. Thirty thousand portions of flesh and blood—this price is fair."

"That's impossible!"

Xiao Yi's face went white, but his voice did not tremble. "Thirty thousand portions of flesh and blood for one blood crystal? Absolutely impossible!"

Chan Tian burst into laughter. His laughter was hoarse and grating, causing the gravel on the roadside to jump.

"It's not thirty thousand portions of flesh and blood for one blood crystal," he held up three fingers, then slowly clenched them into a fist, "it's thirty thousand portions of flesh and blood for your life."

Xiao Yi's pupils shrank violently.

The five Foundation Establishment Cultivators drew their swords in unison. The sword light flared, but in the face of the Middle Stage demon might, that bit of spiritual light was like a candle in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.

Chan Tian took a step forward.

"The Cultivators of my Xiao Family cannot be humiliated!"

A young Cultivator behind Xiao Yi could not hold back any longer and thrust his sword out.

The sword light aimed straight for Chan Tian's throat, fast and ruthless.

Chan Tian didn't even look. With a casual grab, he caught the blade in his palm. With a crisp snap, it broke into two.

Before the young Cultivator could react, Chan Tian slapped him. The man went flying, slammed into the wall, vomited blood, slid to the ground, and lay motionless.

The legs of the remaining four went weak. They held their swords up, but none dared to step forward.

Chan Tian clapped his hands, as if brushing off some filth, and his gaze fell back onto Xiao Yi's face.

Xiao Yi clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms, his knuckles turning white.

Chan Tian swept a glance over the remaining four Foundation Establishment Cultivators, whose legs were trembling. He casually grabbed one and lifted him by the scruff of his neck. The Cultivator went stiff as a board, his face drained of color, his lips trembling, his eyes filled with terror.

"You, go back and deliver a message."

"Tell the head of your Murong Family: three days."

"Within three days, deliver thirty thousand portions of flesh and blood to Feiliu Workshop. When time is up, if I don't see the goods," he turned his head to glance at Xiao Yi, "this Young Master Xiao of yours can forget about going back."

The Cultivator nodded desperately, squeezing out "mm-mm" sounds from his throat, unable to even speak a complete sentence.

Chan Tian flicked his hand, and the Cultivator, like a tossed chicken, traced an arc in mid-air before quickly scrambling to his feet, crawling and tumbling, and running away without looking back.

Afterward.

Chan Tian waved his hand backhandedly.

A stream of gray-black Demon Power surged from his palm, transforming into several chains that bound Xiao Yi and the remaining four Cultivators tightly.

The few struggled a bit, but they couldn't break free at all.

After doing this, Chan Tian turned his head to look at the tea stall across the street.

From the start of the fight until now, a person had been sitting over there. He was wearing a loose gray robe with his hat pulled very low, holding a bowl of tea, drinking it unhurriedly. The people nearby had long since fled, and the tea stall owner had hidden under the table, but he alone remained seated there, motionless.

Chan Tian narrowed his eyes, staring at that person for a few breaths.

"Your Excellency, do you have any advice?"

The gray-robed figure set down the tea bowl and raised his head.

Beneath the brim of the hat, a pair of blood-red pupils were revealed, and the corners of his lips curled up slightly.

"Advice is not the word."

Wu Li's voice was hoarse and indifferent. "It's just that I'm new here and discovered that the people here have a habit—they like to borrow things from others."

Wu Li stood up and brushed the dust off his robe. "I am the same; I would like to borrow that Golden Core Cultivator from Your Excellency."

Chan Tian's eyes narrowed even further as he sized up Wu Li.

"What arrogant words. In this Feiliu Workshop, is there anyone who dares to borrow things from me, Chan Tian?"

He tilted his head. "Where do you come from?"

Wu Li stood up, shook the dust off his robe, and met Chan Tian's gaze with his blood-red pupils, neither dodging nor blinking.

"Me? The vanguard Protector of Taiyue Mountain, Black Ape."

Chan Tian was stunned for a moment, then laughed.

It wasn't a cold sneer; he genuinely found it funny.

"So you are a subordinate of that old dog." Chan Tian shook his head, his laughter full of contempt. "Taiyue Mountain, a place of shame for my Yao Race."

"A bunch of guard dogs kept by the Human Race, and you dare call yourselves Yao Race?"

"You mongrel, to dare come down the mountain and appear before this Old Ancestor now, you are truly courting death."

Wu Li did not respond.

He couldn't help but mutter to himself.

The reputation of Taiyue Mountain... is it really that bad? But he only muttered that one sentence.

Taiyue Mountain is Taiyue Mountain, and he is himself.

Chan Tian cursing Taiyue Mountain—he didn't care.

Chan Tian cursing Black Ape King—he didn't care either.

What he cared about was the unconscious Golden Core Cultivator on the ground and this Middle Stage toad demon before him.

One Golden Core, one Middle Stage.

Two bodies of essence blood, two inner cores.

If he could take them down, the hurdle of the Three Variations of the Blood Eye might just be overcome.

Wu Li's lips curled up slightly. He did not refute Chan Tian's words, nor did he explain what his true relationship with Taiyue Mountain was.

He just stood there, his blood-red pupils staring at Chan Tian, like a hunter sizing up prey.

Chan Tian's laughter slowly faded away. He stared at Wu Li, his eyes narrowing again.

This kid wasn't right.

If it were any other Yao Race from Taiyue Mountain, after being cursed like that, they would either fly into a rage and attack, or slink away.

But this one before him was neither angry nor annoyed, neither leaving nor moving; he just watched him, a faint smile still hanging on his lips.

That smile made him uncomfortable.

Chan Tian stared at Wu Li for a few breaths, and seeing that he still had no intention of making a move, he sneered.

"Looking at your stance, you are determined to have a fight with this Old Ancestor?"

Wu Li chuckled, a cold light flashing in his blood-red pupils. He reached up and removed his robe hood, revealing a face as pale as a corpse, the Blood Pupil markings on his forehead flickering in the candlelight.

"Since you've already cursed me, if I were to just leave like this, wouldn't that be even more unreasonable?"

Before the words had even faded, Wu Li's figure flashed.

He didn't rush toward Chan Tian, but headed straight for the unconscious Gray-robed Elder on the ground. His Demon Power transformed into a pitch-black claw of light, sweeping toward that limp body.