158: Chapter 158 Who gave you the guts?

The chaotic battle in the hall lasted for about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea.

The three major forces, combined with numerous Loose Cultivators, worked together to clear out most of the Purple Scorpion swarm inside the hall.

The ground was covered with broken shells and purple bodily fluids, and the air was thick with a foul, fishy stench.

The Taiqing Sect, Biluo Sect, and the Great Yuan Imperial Family—the three strongest first-rate powers—managed to protect their Core Disciples by relying on their Sect formations.

However, they still inevitably lost some manpower.

But the small Sects and the Loose Cultivators suffered miserably.

Of the six or seven thousand people who had poured in, fewer than two thousand were still standing.

Shrivelled corpses lay scattered across the floor, their essence drained by the Purple Scorpions' venom, leaving behind nothing but skin and bones with distorted faces.

This was why the first-rate powers didn't forcibly limit the numbers; since ancient times, exploring a Secret Realm always required some cannon fodder.

For small Sects and numerous Loose Cultivators, the desire to survive was essentially a gamble where they staked their lives for a chance at fortune.

They either became withered bones in the Secret Realm, paving the way for the strong, or they climbed over the corpses to become the "Chosen" in the eyes of others.

Since ancient times, it has always been thus.

...

An old, gray-haired Cultivator crouched in a corner of the hall, cradling a set of withered bones in his arms.

The bones were clad in a slate-gray Disciple's robe, with a wooden plaque hanging from the waist engraved with the name "Jianyang."

The old Cultivator's cultivation was at the Divine Light Realm, and his protective spiritual light had barely blocked the venom, but his Disciple beside him, who was in the Yuandan Realm, had not.

Vines had pierced the young man's protection, and within three breaths, a living person had been reduced to a pile of white bones.

"Jianyang... Jianyang..."

The old Cultivator held the wooden plaque, tears streaming down his face.

No one spared him a glance.

In a place like this, death was all too common.

In another corner on the southwest side of the hall.

A young female Cultivator with her hair in twin buns knelt on the ground, her entire body trembling.

A set of white bones lay before her.

Half of a shredded Constellation Sect robe still hung on the bones, and a cracked inner Sect token lay at the chest.

That was her Senior Brother.

Just now, a Purple Scorpion had lunged from behind a stone pillar; her Senior Brother had shoved her aside, only to be caught around the waist by the scorpion's pincers.

As the venomous stinger sank into his back, her Senior Brother had turned back and shouted "Run!" at her.

She watched helplessly as her Senior Brother's body shriveled within three breaths, his flesh turning to ash, leaving only a skeleton scattered on the ground.

"Senior Brother... Senior Brother..."

Duan Ziyan's voice was filled with grief and indignation, carrying a sob.

The surrounding Loose Cultivators glanced at her before looking away.

Duan Ziyan lay on the ground crying for a long time until she was completely exhausted, only then slowly lifting her head.

Her eyes were so red they looked like they might bleed. Her gaze swept blankly across the hall before finally landing next to a stone pillar on the south side.

A youth in a gray robe leaned against the pillar, followed by a hunched figure in black.

Three Purple Scorpion corpses lay at his feet, each cut cleanly in half.

Yet, there was hardly even a speck of dust on him.

Duan Ziyan's pupils constricted.

She remembered.

When the Purple Scorpion swarm was at its most frenzied, this gray-robed youth had stood by that stone pillar, killing scorpions as easily as slicing melons with a wave of his hand.

A ten-zhang-long Purple Scorpion would snap in two with just a flick of his finger.

But he had only killed the ones that lunged at him.

When the surrounding Loose Cultivators were ensnared by vines or crushed by scorpion pincers, he hadn't even moved.

Her Senior Brother had died less than ten paces away from him.

At that thought, her expression instantly turned hideous.

Duan Ziyan stood up and walked toward the stone pillar.

"You...!"

Duan Ziyan's finger jabbed to within three inches of Gu Changsheng's face. Her brows were arched in anger, and her voice was venomous.

"When those Purple Scorpions attacked just now, you clearly had the ability to save people!"

Gu Changsheng looked down at her finger and said nothing.

"My Senior Brother died right next to you! You could have saved him with just a wave of your hand!"

Duan Ziyan's chest heaved violently, her voice carrying suppressed rage.

"Why did you stand by and watch him die?! You clearly have the strength! Is your heart made of stone?!"

The noise in the hall subsided.

Many Loose Cultivators looked up, their gazes falling on this scene.

Someone recognized the gray-robed youth.

It was the one who had just snapped a scorpion with a single finger.

"She's right!"

A middle-aged Cultivator with a blood-stained face stood up, clutching a broken sword, his eyes bloodshot.

"My brother also died within five paces of you! You could have blocked those scorpions with any random move!"

"My fellow Disciple too!" another young Cultivator roared, his voice cracking with a sob.

"With such a strong cultivation, couldn't you have lent a hand?"

One, two, five, a dozen...

More than twenty pairs of eyes stared at Gu Changsheng.

Some were filled with hatred, some with rage, and some were bloodshot as if wanting to devour him.

Duan Ziyan's finger was still jabbed in front of Gu Changsheng, her whole body trembling.

"What use is a high cultivation for someone like you? You cold-blooded thing who treats human life like grass! Every person who died today is connected to you..."

The hall fell silent for two breaths.

Gu Changsheng straightened his back against the stone pillar.

He tilted his head slightly, as if observing an unfamiliar insect.

"What does your Senior Brother's life have to do with me?"

Duan Ziyan's body stiffened.

"You... what did you say?"

"I said," Gu Changsheng's voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the hall heard him clearly.

"Your Senior Brother died because he was incompetent."

Duan Ziyan's eyes widened to their limit.

"What does that have to do with me?"

Gu Changsheng raised his right hand from his sleeve, holding his index finger upright before him.

"This is the tomb of a Myriad Laws Realm expert, not your backyard. Before coming in, you should have expected that you might die."

Duan Ziyan's mouth hung open as if a great terror had descended upon her, leaving her utterly horrified.

"Since you love your Senior Brother so much, I'll send you to see him."

Gu Changsheng's index finger tapped forward once.

Just once.

Duan Ziyan's head exploded.

Without warning or sound, it split open from the center of her forehead, scattering red and white matter across the floor.

Her body stood in place for a breath before her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, twitching twice before becoming still.

The entire hall was shaken.

Gu Changsheng didn't withdraw his finger, instead sweeping it around the hall.

Those Loose Cultivators who had just glared at him—a middle-aged Cultivator, a young Cultivator, three old Cultivators together, and two female Cultivators standing side-by-side.

Everyone who had directed hostility toward him.

Gu Changsheng's Divine Sense crushed over them silently.

*Splat!* *Splat-splat!* *Splat-splat-splat...!*

Heads exploded one after another, like ripe melons smashed by a hammer.

Blood and bone fragments splattered onto the faces of those nearby, onto the walls, and onto the floor tiles.

More than twenty headless corpses collapsed one by one. Some still maintained the posture of pointing and cursing at Gu Changsheng, while others knelt on their knees with geysers of blood erupting from their necks.

From start to finish, it took three breaths.

The entire hall was pin-drop silent.

Over a thousand Loose Cultivators were frozen in place as if under a binding spell, not even daring to move their eyes.

The pant legs of the few Loose Cultivators standing closest were already wet.

His gaze swept lazily around the room, as if looking at a swarm of ants.

"If you don't have the ability, don't come here to die. And once you're dead, you're going to blame it on someone else?"

No one answered.

No one dared to answer.

The nearest Loose Cultivators began to retreat—one step, two steps—then faster and faster, wishing they could detach their legs and use them as wings.

Within ten breaths, a thirty-zhang radius around Gu Changsheng was completely deserted.

The True Disciple of the Taiqing Sect in moon-white Daoist robes glanced over before quickly averting his gaze.

The white-haired elder of the Biluo Sect, who was using his power to expel poison, paused for a moment. His brow twitched twice before he resumed his cultivation with eyes closed.

Princess Zhao Miner leaned against the stone wall, having seen everything clearly from beginning to end.

Her breathing suddenly quickened for a few beats.

Among those twenty-plus Loose Cultivators, there were those in the Wufa Realm and the Divine Light Realm. When they stood up to point and curse, each had been fiercer than the last.

And the result?

A single finger for a headshot, a sweep of Divine Sense, and not even a blink.

In front of this gray-robed youth, human lives were no different from pebbles by the roadside.

He killed whenever he wanted, without needing a reason.

Princess Zhao Miner's hand gripped the edge of the stone wall, and her face suddenly flushed.

Growing up in the imperial palace, she was accustomed to intrigue and seeing people killed before the throne.

But those who killed always hesitated beforehand and sought an excuse afterward.

This "Lu Jiu" was different.

He killed without hesitation and offered no explanation afterward.

He just leaned against the pillar as if nothing had happened.

Behind her, Third Prince Zhao Fengqi tugged at her sleeve, his voice trembling: "Sister... this guy is a lunatic, right? Let's stay away from him..."

Princess Zhao Miner brushed his hand away, her eyes fixed on the gray-robed youth's profile, not blinking for a long time.

Her legs unconsciously pressed together, and the tips of her ears began to burn.

"Sister? Why is your face so red? Are you poisoned?" Zhao Fengqi leaned in.

"Shut up," Princess Zhao Miner snapped, slapping the back of his head, her voice tight.

"It's because my wound hurts."

Zhao Fengqi clutched the back of his head, not daring to ask further.

On the other side of the hall, Yun Feiyang leaned against a half-broken stone pillar, clutching an empty wine skin.

His gaze rested on the gray-robed youth for a long time.

His eyes flickered with light, his thoughts unknown...