God of Slaughter

"We are just here to invite you to come with us."

"Rest assured, I guarantee you won't lose a single hair."

Gu Chengyin looked indifferently at the leader of the men in black.

Just as he was about to speak.

The dome exploded.

A golden thunderbolt crashed directly above the capital of Luo.

It streaked across the entire night sky.

From east to west, it forcefully tore the canopy of the heavens in half.

This thunderbolt was simply too fierce.

Its edges were molten gold, its center a searing white. The clouds were torn open by a hundred-zhang rift, revealing the vast, boundless starry sky behind them.

The entire city of Luo fell silent for half a breath before this golden thunderbolt.

And then.

The whole city erupted in an uproar.

Gu Chengyin's gaze bypassed the layers of dark figures before him, landing on the lingering thunder scar across the dome.

Finally, he sighed, silently mourning for those three Golden Core cultivators.

Obviously, Lin Qingyan was getting serious.

Her combat power was indeed invincible at the Golden Core stage, but that was under one-on-one circumstances.

Normally, three Golden Core cultivators could hold her back.

But this time, Lin Qingyan had been amplified by Gu Chengyin.

How much had her combat power been multiplied?

Twenty percent? Thirty percent? Or even more?

Gu Chengyin didn't know.

He only knew that this thunder scar stretching across Luodu was not the work of an early-stage Golden Core cultivator.

Gu Chengyin looked at the three dark figures fleeing in a panic across the sky, the corners of his lips curling up slightly.

"Three against one, and you still get counter-killed."

"Do you even know how to play?"

Gu Chengyin's voice was not loud, even carrying a hint of leisurely appreciation.

Like commenting on an excellent play, pitying the actors for not lasting past the third act.

But as his words fell into the ears of these men in black, every syllable was like a poisoned nail.

Gu Chengyin saw the shoulder line of the leader of the men in black suddenly tense up.

He saw the other men in black simultaneously take a half-step back—not to retreat, but to gather momentum to strike.

Then the leader raised his hand to signal:

"Something's wrong, prepare to attack!"

The three parts of humility in his tone had completely vanished, leaving only a blade-like sharpness.

"Junior Preceptor Gu, pardon the offense."

The leader did not wait for Gu Chengyin's response.

He didn't even give Gu Chengyin the time to respond.

With a forward wave of his raised right hand, three men in black moved in response.

They were the three closest to Gu Chengyin, with the best angles of attack and the most tacit coordination.

One from the front, turning his palms into claws, aimed straight for Gu Chengyin's throat. As long as the throat bone was locked, his entire body's strength would be suppressed, leaving no room for resistance.

One from the left, crouching low and advancing swiftly, targeted Gu Chengyin's wrist. There were no weapons there, only a section of his official sleeve.

This person was here to disarm him; even though Gu Chengyin was unarmed, he still acted strictly according to protocol.

One from the right, pointing his toes toward the back of Gu Chengyin's knee. This was to cripple his mobility and completely destroy his center of gravity.

A three-sided encirclement.

No blind spots.

No route of retreat.

Gu Chengyin quietly watched these three men in black lunging toward him.

He didn't move, not even adjusting his posture.

He still leaned against the railing with his legs crossed, his posture lazy and relaxed.

He showed absolutely no intention of circulating the Azure Cloud Incantation to counterattack.

The attacks of the three men in black drew closer and closer.

Five feet.

Three feet.

One foot.

And then...

The three men in black halted in unison.

Their figures froze in midair like three statues, every muscle line trembling violently.

Suddenly, they began to retreat rapidly, as if going any further would bring them face to face with some great terror.

This was fear.

It was the uncontrollable, instinctive fear of a human facing a natural predator.

Gu Chengyin still didn't move.

He merely withdrew the hand resting on the railing, his posture as leisurely as if he were receiving guests.

The next second.

A figure descended from the sky.

Like a falling meteor, like the collapse of a great mountain, like divine punishment descending upon the world.

This figure, carrying the force of ten thousand thunderbolts, plummeted straight down from the barrier's dome, dragging a piercing screech through the air.

Upon landing, he did not dissipate the force, nor did he roll to cushion the impact. He allowed his own weight and acceleration to transform into a loud crash like muffled thunder.

"Boom!"

The wooden floorboards of the top floor of Fan Tower cracked inch by inch. The fissures radiated outward from his landing point as the center, weaving a dense spiderweb within a radius of three zhang.

Splintered wood chips flew like grapeshot, striking the pillars with a dense barrage of thuds.

It was Chen Busha.

He knelt on one knee, his right hand tightly gripping a Heaven-Piercing Halberd, every edge carved with a blood groove.

Then, he slowly stood up.

First raising his right knee, then straightening his left knee, his spine stretched out joint by joint, emitting faint popping sounds.

His shoulders were broad, tearing the night wind into two streams; his back was thick, like a mountain rising from the earth.

The process of standing up took three breaths.

During these three breaths, none of the men in black moved.

It wasn't that they didn't want to move.

It was that they couldn't.

Because the halberd was pointing at them.

The halberd tip slowly rose, leveled in front of his chest, and then swept horizontally.

"Whoosh!"

Under this sweep, the night wind let out a screech like tearing silk. The halberd blade broke through the air, dragging a bright silver arc of light.

Chen Busha stood the halberd by his side and struck the butt of the shaft against the ground.

"Thud!"

Another crack spread from the base of the shaft, intertwining with the previous spiderweb into an even more complex pattern.

He raised his eyes, the whites bloodshot—the brand of dilated capillaries after killing intent had boiled over.

There was no light deep within his pupils, only an unmelting scarlet.

Seeing the countless men in black before him, the corners of Chen Busha's mouth slowly curled up.

As if seeing a feast of slaughter about to begin.

His voice squeezed out from his throat, hoarse and rough, every word sounding as though it had been ground against sandpaper.

"Golden Feather Guard."

"Chen Busha."

He stated his own name, like reading out a death list.

His gaze started from the three closest to Gu Chengyin, moved to the slender leader of the men in black, and then to every afterimage hidden in the dark that had not yet fully materialized.

Chen Busha's killing intent poured out without reservation.

This was not the gelatinous viscosity of a Golden Core cultivator's coercion.

It was blood.

It was the blood aura accumulated from decades of military service, from the heads he had personally severed.

This blood aura condensed into substance, steaming up from around him and dyeing the night wind a faint red.

Even leaning against the railing, Gu Chengyin could smell this rusty, sweet metallic scent.

This was not Chen Busha's blood; it was the blood splattered from the people he had killed during the final beat of their hearts.

Behind his veil, the pupils of the leader of the men in black shrank to the size of pinpricks.

He looked at Chen Busha, at the halberd that was still dripping blood, and at those eyes soaked in crimson.

His voice was hoarse, forgetting even to maintain his disguise.

"Chen..."

He couldn't utter a second word.

Because Chen Busha moved.

He only took a single step.

This step shattered all of the black-clad leader's understanding of distance.

Just a moment ago, they were clearly five zhang apart.

When this step landed, he was already within three zhang.

This was the military combat technique Chen Busha had honed on the battlefield for decades, forging every inch of muscle and bone into a weapon, without a single wasted movement.

Only at this moment did the leader of the men in black finally remember one thing.

The Golden Feather Guards were not the royal honor guard, nor were they mere showpieces.

Inside were all Asura gods of slaughter who had been to the battlefield, holding more human lives in their hands than wild grass.

And Chen Busha was the Vice General of the Golden Feather Guards.

He was the strongest Foundation Establishment cultivator whose flesh had achieved sanctity.