184: Chapter 183 You're Really Ruthless

He whirled around. In the air, Chen Zilong had, at some unknown time, placed his palms together before his chest, forming an ancient and solemn Buddhist hand seal!

The purple lightning that had been coiling around him quietly receded. In its place emerged a layer of pure, heavy golden Buddhist light, brimming with compassion yet radiating boundless majesty!

Within that Buddhist light, the faint sound of Sanskrit chants arose, and countless tiny golden ' swastika' (swastika) characters swirled and flowed.

"Bu... Buddhist divine ability?!"

Tian Yin's heart quaked violently. An instinctual fear born from his cultivation technique instantly seized him!

The Xuan Yin Sect's techniques belonged to the Yin-Evil path, most fearful of such supremely Yang, supremely rigid Buddhist great methods specifically designed to subdue demons!

"I let you, this fly, buzz around for quite a while. Now, it's time for some peace and quiet."

Chen Zilong spoke calmly, his joined palms slowly pushing forward horizontally.

With his pushing motion, a massive golden palm, large as a roof, formed purely from condensed, ultimate golden Buddhist light with textures clear as a real hand, materialized before him!

In the center of the giant palm, a large, swirling golden ' swastika' character glowed, emanating a glorious Buddhist might that could suppress all evil and cleanse all demonic thoughts!

One of the Seventy-Two Supreme Techniques from the *Vajra Demon Subduing Scripture* — Prajna Palm!

"Pra... jna... Palm!"

Chen Zilong uttered a low shout, his voice like a great bell.

The golden giant palm, carrying the supreme momentum to crush the void and deliver all demons, ignored distance and descended upon the utterly horrified Tian Yin!

Wherever the palm wind passed, even the residual Yin baleful aura in the air was purified completely!

"No—!! Xuan Yin True Fire, Ten Thousand Ghosts Protect Me!!!"

Tian Yin let out a desperate shriek, erupting with all his remaining demonic power and fiendish qi without reservation, laying down layer upon layer of black fire walls and ghostly, shadowy shields before him. This was his life-saving trump card!

However, before the supremely rigid, supremely Yang Prajna Divine Palm, born specifically for subduing demons, all this resistance seemed so pale and laughable!

"Boom—!!!"

Like a hot knife through butter, the golden giant palm shattered the layers of fire walls and ghostly shadows without hindrance, solidly imprinting itself onto a black bone shield artifact Tian Yin had desperately summoned.

"Crack! Pfft—!"

The bone shield didn't hold for half a breath, instantly exploding into dust!

The terrifying residual force of the giant palm, without any fancy tricks, blasted directly onto Tian Yin's physical body!

There was no earth-shattering explosion, only a dull thud, like a thick sack being smashed apart.

Tian Yin's protective aura shattered like a soap bubble. His entire body was as if struck head-on by a ten-thousand-ton hammer. A series of teeth-grating cracking sounds erupted from all his bones as blood arrows shot simultaneously from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth!

His relatively intact Daoist robe instantly turned to ashes, revealing a body with skin cracking inch by inch, blood gushing like a spring. Like a pile of crushed flesh, he plummeted towards the ground.

And a wilted, dim, black-gray phantom filled with boundless terror and resentment...

That was Tian Yin's Nascent Soul.

With great difficulty, it struggled to escape from that pile of mangled flesh, fleeing desperately without a backward glance in the direction Wang Lin had chased!

It didn't even care about its own shattered physical body or the dropped storage pouch.

How could Chen Zilong let it have its way?

He snorted coldly, a slight thought stirring within him. The overlord cauldron in his dantian trembled gently.

The cauldron's mouth emitted an invisible suction force, accurately drawing Tian Yin's dropped storage pouch into the cauldron.

As for Tian Yin's fleeing Nascent Soul, Chen Zilong glanced at it but did not pursue.

Firstly, a Nascent Soul's escape speed was extremely fast. He wasn't at his peak condition, making pursuit difficult.

Secondly, a Nascent Soul Early Stage cultivator who had lost his physical body posed a greatly reduced threat.

More importantly, he had more important matters to attend to.

He slowly exhaled a mouthful of turbid qi tinged with faint golden Buddhist light. Continuously activating powerful divine abilities was also a considerable burden on his not-yet-fully-recovered Nascent Soul.

He lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over the Duanlong Cliff below.

The members of the Zhou Family were still standing there.

Zhou Yi's expression was extremely complex—shock, lingering fear, gratitude, and a trace of deep worry.

Seeing Chen Zilong's gaze fall upon him, he instantly understood.

The Wang Family Ancestor was not dead. The Xuan Yin Sect elder's Nascent Soul had escaped. A greater storm was likely still brewing.

Chen Zilong was...

leaving.

Zhou Yi raised his head, meeting Chen Zilong's gaze. His lips moved slightly, as if wanting to say some words of thanks or persuasion to stay.

But in the end, he only nodded heavily, with endless emotion and a hint of relief.

His eyes conveyed a clear message:

Leave with peace of mind. The Zhou Family...

will remember this kindness and will also be careful.

Receiving this look, Chen Zilong gave a slight nod.

A decade of karma. The battle at Duanlong Cliff had settled most of it.

As for the rest, the Zhou Family's own path, they would have to walk it themselves.

Without further hesitation, his figure flickered, transforming into a not-so-dazzling yet incredibly fast purple streak of light. It shot towards the eastern horizon, a direction completely different from where Wang Lin and Tian Yin's Nascent Soul had fled!

In an instant, he vanished into the clouds at the horizon, clean and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

The peak of Duanlong Cliff returned to deathly silence.

Only the scene of devastation and the pungent smell of blood bore witness to the thrilling, repeatedly reversed life-and-death struggle that had just taken place.

A few breaths later.

"Whoosh—!"

A somewhat dim crimson rainbow returned, landing with a crash. It was the Wang Family Ancestor, Wang Lin.

But now, his face was livid, his aura unstable. More horrifyingly, his right arm was severed at the shoulder!

The wound was a bloody, charred mess.

It retained faint traces of a destructive aura, as if from a thunderous explosion.

Clearly, it had been forcibly blown off. He was currently using spiritual power to barely seal the wound, preventing massive blood loss.

In his hand, he carefully cradled a mass of...

charred flesh that could barely be recognized as human-shaped. It was Wang Bufan.

But the Wang Bufan of now was long devoid of life, his body broken and tattered as if he had truly exploded from within, a most miserable death.

Wang Lin had ultimately been a step too late. Or rather, the timing of the hidden force Chen Zilong left behind to detonate was calculated with extreme precision and ruthlessness.

Almost simultaneously, a dim, weak black-gray Nascent Soul light also timidly followed back, hiding not far behind Wang Lin, its former arrogance completely gone.

It was Tian Yin.

Upon landing, Wang Lin's first glance was towards the spot where Chen Zilong had been hovering.

Empty.

He frantically scanned his surroundings, seeing only the Zhou Family members, and the corpses and ruins of Wang Family and Xuan Yin Sect cultivators littering the ground.

The culprit had run.

A wave of rage and frustration with no outlet, mixed with the pain of losing his grandson and the hatred from his severed arm, instantly overwhelmed Wang Lin.

He clenched his remaining fist so tightly the veins bulged, his teeth grinding audibly as if he wanted to chew up and swallow Chen Zilong's name.

Staring in the direction Chen Zilong had vanished, he squeezed out through gritted teeth, with bloody foam and boundless venom, word by word:

"Lit...tle...bastard! How...ruthless...you...are!!"

His voice was hoarse, like a wounded, dying lone wolf howling under the moon. It echoed for a long time over the desolate, bloody peak of Duanlong Cliff, chilling to the bone.

Below the cliff, the few surviving Wang Family servants trembled as they began collecting the corpses.

Under Zhou Yi's signal, the Zhou Family members silently began to retreat, preparing to leave this place of trouble.

As for the cultivators and mortals of Qingyan City who had watched the battle from afar, hearts trembling with fear, they engraved everything they saw today deeply into their minds.

A name called Chen Zilong.

And the figure that had played the Wang Family Ancestor and the Xuan Yin elder like puppets before departing gracefully, was destined to become a legend passed down for a long time in this region, or perhaps...

the beginning of a nightmare.

On the eastern horizon, the clouds were lightly tinted.

Chen Zilong, transformed into a streak of light, sped towards the unknown road ahead.

A hidden ache from deep within his Nascent Soul reminded him he was far from recovered.

But his gaze was calm, without a trace of the disgrace of winning and running. There was only the free-spirited ease of brushing off one's sleeves after a matter is done, and the resolve to move towards the next goal.

The Pill Mansion. He advanced with unwavering determination.

The storm of blood and violence behind him was temporarily irrelevant.

Until...

the next entanglement of karma, the next convergence of fate.