Li Xingtian only executed the Golden Core demonic cultivator, leaving the remaining ones to his subordinates.
If he hadn’t taken the initiative to kill the Golden Core cultivator first to boost the morale of his demonic followers, this ragtag group would have fought with only thirty percent effort—twenty percent reserved for fleeing and the remaining fifty percent spent on finding some poor fool to take the brunt of the battle.
But once the strongest opponent was slain, those demonic cultivators became truly willing to fight to the death.
No surprise there—victory was all but assured.
These demonic cultivators were more than eager to go all out when the battle was in their favor.
The subordinates currently only had Foundation Establishment and Qi Refining cultivation. While Foundation Establishment cultivators still had some tricks up their sleeves, Qi Refining demonic cultivators mostly relied on brute force—like smashing bricks with sheer might.
Li Xingtian stood silently at the highest point, his gaze sweeping over the scene below, yet none of the demonic cultivators dared to meet his eyes.
With the swift demise of the Golden Core demonic cultivator, the morale of the remaining forces here collapsed instantly. They initially tried to flee, but upon seeing the overwhelming numbers at the exit, they immediately dropped to their knees in surrender.
However, a single voice pronounced their death sentence.
"Leave none alive this time. Kill them all," Li Xingtian’s icy voice rang out. "The one with the highest kill count will be rewarded upon our return."
Some rejoiced, others despaired.
But whether in joy or despair, all were soon reduced to pools of blood.
Li Xingtian’s side held an overwhelming advantage in both numbers and momentum, so the battle didn’t last long.
Once it ended, Li Xingtian swept the area with his divine sense, first confirming there were no remaining ambushes before assessing his own losses—only about seven casualties.
As soon as the fighting ceased, Wen Zuo, who had been stationed outside to ensure no one escaped, strode in. After surveying the surroundings, he ordered:
"Search thoroughly. Bring any surviving mortals to me. Bury the dead alongside our own. Gather all valuables neatly—I’ll personally oversee the inventory."
Once he finished giving instructions, Wen Zuo approached Li Xingtian and clasped his hands in respect. "Please wait a moment, Sect Leader."
As a Golden Core cultivator, Wen Zuo’s divine sense could detect many hidden treasures, so he always personally joined the search team during cleanup.
Li Xingtian gave a slight nod of approval.
Led by Wen Zuo, a group of bloodthirsty demonic cultivators, their killing intent still lingering, began combing through the area.
It didn’t take long.
Li Xingtian’s gaze shifted toward the depths of the entrance as his subordinates escorted a group of ordinary mortals forward.
Demonic cultivators came in many varieties, but all of them captured mortals alive—whether for sacrifices, experiments, or absorbing their life essence.
At the very least, they could serve as food for Qi Refining demonic cultivators—both as cooks and as ingredients.
However, if left unchecked for too long, most of these mortals would find it nearly impossible to return to ordinary life.
The method of intervention wasn’t complicated—no need for soothing words or gentle rehabilitation.
The Taidao Sect’s approach to these mortals was straightforward: the Great Memory Erasure Technique!
They simply washed away the mortals’ memories with spiritual energy. Though not particularly refined—often wiping out more than intended—the overall results were still highly satisfactory.
Li Xingtian’s eyes swept over the group before he looked away, indifferent. Their final destination would be handed over to the Taidao Sect for finer processing.
What concerned him now was Wen Zuo’s upcoming report on the spoils.
His followers were well-versed in this routine. They herded the mortals out, ensuring their muffled sobs didn’t irritate their sect leader.
But then, a soft, melodious voice called out from the crowd.
"Are you the one who saved me, my benefactor?"
Li Xingtian’s brow furrowed slightly as his gaze followed the voice, quickly locking onto a delicate, pitiful-looking young woman huddled among the mortals.
The hall fell silent. None of the demonic cultivators dared utter a word—half staring at the girl, the other half at Li Xingtian, who sat frowning in his chair.
The oppressive stillness even silenced the mortals’ earlier whimpers.
After a brief pause, Li Xingtian spoke calmly:
"Bring her out. Take the rest back—and make sure none of them die."
As his words faded, the air in the hall seemed to stir.
The escorts had already noticed the girl’s striking beauty—her lovely face and those large, expressive eyes. Understanding dawned, and they gently separated her from the others.
Now alone in the center of the hall, the girl clutched her tattered clothes nervously, her gaze flickering up for a fleeting glance before quickly dropping again.
Li Xingtian studied the seemingly innocent girl before him, his expression as unreadable as ever.
He had no doubts about his appearance—though not as handsome as his master, he was far from ugly.
What truly marred his looks, according to his eldest senior sister, was his "permanent aura of someone whose parents were murdered, surrounded by the killers, plotting bloody vengeance."
Li Xingtian didn’t understand. He wasn’t making any expression—his mind perfectly calm—so why did his neutral face always get misinterpreted so drastically?
Though reluctant to admit it, he knew this was simply his innate demeanor.
Even his usually gentle third senior sister would awkwardly change the subject whenever his "aura" came up.
Li Xingtian was absolutely certain: sitting expressionless on a demonic throne, surrounded by monstrous subordinates, no one with functioning eyes would mistake him for a "benefactor."
This was clearly a case of jumping from the wolf’s den into the tiger’s mouth.
Since the girl’s eyes were clearly intact, the question now was whether she was simply terrified out of her wits.
If not, then this seemingly harmless maiden had ulterior motives.
Considering his recent activities, this was likely the bait his master had set—and now the fish was nibbling.
Li Xingtian lowered his gaze, staring at the trembling girl.
"You get three sentences. Who sent you? What’s your goal?"
The girl looked up in panic. "Wh-what…?"
"One."
"No one sent me—"
"Two."
"Really…" The girl seemed on the verge of collapse, sinking to her knees as tears streamed down her face—a picture of pitiable distress.
Li Xingtian rose and stepped toward her, one deliberate stride at a time.
"You’re neither blind nor stupid—just terrible at making excuses. Here’s some advice: if you’re trying to grab my attention by calling me ‘benefactor,’ you should’ve pretended to be blind first."
The girl’s eyes widened, tears flowing freely as she inched backward.
But Li Xingtian moved faster, stopping right before her. His gaze turned icy as he reached out.
"I just thought you looked like a good person!" she blurted, squeezing her eyes shut.
She felt a hand grip her arm, pulling her upright.
When she opened her eyes again, Li Xingtian’s expression was calm—the killing intent in his gaze now gone.
Li Xingtian helped the young woman up, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You’ve got a sharp eye," he remarked.
Relief washed over her at his words… Had her gamble paid off?
But in the next instant, an excruciating pain erupted in her abdomen, spreading like wildfire. Stunned, she looked down toward the source of the agony.
There, in Li Xingtian’s hand, was a dagger—only its hilt visible, the blade buried deep in her stomach.
Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his.
Li Xingtian’s expression remained indifferent, neither sorrowful nor pleased. "It’s just that… you don’t seem like a good person."