Chapter 110 A passing cultivator cuts through the Purple Palace with one sword

As the golden-robed Daoist unleashed his sword strike, the entire sky trembled.

The radiant sword river cut through the heavens, sweeping toward the demonic old hag with unstoppable might.

Even before it struck, the air was filled with crackling energy, and the land below shuddered under the sheer force of the impending attack.

“Damn it!”

The old hag’s expression twisted in a mix of rage and disbelief.

Her soul fire lantern, filled with the captured souls of Level 2 cultivators, trembled violently.

She never expected a Level 5 powerhouse to arrive so suddenly.

“This old fool! Since when did the righteous sects send a level 5 cultivator to watch over this backwater province?!”

She had assumed that, at best, the strongest opposition she’d face would be a late-stage Level 3 cultivator.

With her peak Level 3 cultivation, she had been confident in slaughtering everyone.

But now a Level 4 grandmaster had arrived!

A Moment of Panic

As the sword river roared forth, the old hag knew.. she had no choice but to flee.

If she hesitated, she would be eradicated on the spot.

Her eyes flashed with murderous intent as she let out a strange chant—

Her soul fire lantern ignited, consuming the trapped souls within.

With a terrifying shriek, a wave of ghastly shadows burst from the lantern, forming a black mist barrier to delay the sword strike.

At the same time—

She turned into a streak of dark light, attempting to escape into the void.

Arius’s Dilemma

Watching this unfold from the ruins of Floating Dream Pavilion, Arius’ mind raced.

This was the perfect opportunity to strengthen his Five-Thunder Talisman Treasure and kill her himself.

Yet—

With the arrival of the Level 5 grandmaster, the battle had taken a different turn.

If he used the Appraising Immortal Mirror now, he risked exposing its existence to a cultivator far beyond his ability to resist.

Could he afford that risk?

Arius’s fingers tightened around the talismans as he debated.

The Final Strike

“Trying to escape?”

The golden-robed Daoist sneered.

He extended a single finger—

And the sword river condensed, focusing into a single luminous blade of light.

“Die.”

The blade sliced through the mist barrier, cutting through the old hag’s escape technique like paper.

A shriek of pure agony rang out as the black mist collapsed, revealing the old hag’s true form—

Her left arm had been severed, and a deep wound ran from her shoulder to her waist.

Her once fearsome aura had been crippled in a single strike.

“No…! NO!”

She coughed black blood, her life force rapidly depleting.

If she stayed even a second longer, she would be completely annihilated.

Without hesitation, she threw out an escape talisman, burning her own soul essence to forcefully teleport herself away.

A ghastly black light engulfed her—

And in the next instant, she vanished without a trace.

Victory? Or a Deeper Crisis?

The battle was over.

Pyrenees Mountain Prefecture had been saved.

The golden-robed Daoist sheathed his sword, his expression calm.

He gazed at the city below, surveying the countless dead cultivators and mortals.

After a moment of silence, he spoke—

“The righteous path is stained with too much blood today.”

“This should never have happened.”

Then, he turned his gaze toward Arius—

His sharp eyes filled with deep suspicion.

Arius’s Heart Pounded.

Did he notice something?

Would he be able to sense the presence of the Appraising Immortal Mirror within Arius’ sea of consciousness?

Or worse—

Had the old hag, in her final moments, left behind some clue about Arius’s secrets?

The young cultivator’s body remained still, but inside—

His mind raced furiously, preparing for whatever came next.

Would the Level 5 grandmaster see him as an ally—

Or a threat?

For many cultivators, witnessing a Level 5 grandmaster in action was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

To observe such a battle was not just an honor but a rare opportunity to refine one’s own Dao comprehension.

The golden-robed Daoist was most likely a wandering Level 4 grandmaster who happened to pass by.

And the demonic old hag?

Unlucky beyond words.

If she had only been facing Arius’ strengthened Five-Thunder Talisman Treasure, she might have had a chance to escape.

But against a Level 4 grandmaster—

Even if she had been late-stage Level 3, or even peak Level 3, her fate was sealed.

The Sword That Ended Everything

The golden-robed Daoist uttered a single word:

“Slay.”

He drew his sword—

And by the time anyone could react, his blade was already back in its sheath.

Even Arius, despite focusing all of his spiritual senses, saw nothing but a blur.

It was over in half a breath.

For a brief moment, the skies darkened.

And then—

A bloom of crimson.

A single flower of blood burst in mid-air.

The demonic old hag stood frozen—

Her head severed clean from her body.

Her lifeless eyes were wide with a mix of terror, disbelief, and regret.

Stunned Silence

Every cultivator, every mortal in Pyrenees Mountain Prefecture, fell into a dazed silence.

The old hag, who had terrorized the entire city, was now nothing more than a corpse.

Gone.

Just like that.

For so long, she had oppressed the city, exuding an unmatched dominance—

Yet the golden-robed Daoist had ended her with a single strike.

Was this… the power of a Level 4 grandmaster?

This wasn’t legendary sword art.
It wasn’t some ancient divine technique.

It was merely—

A casual unsheathing, a casual strike, and a casual return to its scabbard.

The entire process had lasted less than a heartbeat.

Level 3 cultivators, the rulers of the Aragon Kingdom’s regions—

In the face of a Level 5 cultivator, they were as weak as mortals before immortals.

“Tsk, tsk…”

The golden-robed Daoist clicked his tongue in mild amusement.

“Meeting me today… truly, your luck ran out.”

He waved his sleeves lazily, and in an instant—

The old hag’s storage ring, talismans, and magical treasures flew into his hands.

A Level 3 cultivator’s fortune might be insignificant to a Level 4 powerhouse,

But as the saying went—”Even a mosquito is still meat.”

Without sparing a single glance at the kneeling cultivators or the grateful masses, the Daoist turned—

And in an instant, he transformed into a golden sword beam—

Vanishing into the distant sky.

He had no interest in interacting with Level 2 and lower-realm cultivators.

Even if the entire city fell to their knees in worship, he wouldn’t care.

Even long after the Daoist had left, the skies above Pyrenees Mountain Prefecture remained disturbed.

The residual sword aura stretched across thousands of miles, its oppressive presence lingering.

Arius stood quietly in a shadowed corner, still processing what had just happened.

This was his first time standing in the presence of a Level 4 grandmaster’s power.

And under such an aura—

Level 2 cultivators, Level 3 experts, Level 1 warriors…

They were all nothing but ants.

Even late-stage Level 3 experts—the rulers of vast territories—were helpless before such strength.

The Collapse of Evil

Before leaving, the golden-robed Daoist had casually destroyed the demonic hag’s formation, shattering it with a single wave of his hand.

With the barriers lifted, the people of Pyrenees Mountain Prefecture began to react.

Fear.
Relief.
Confusion.

The city was in chaos.

Some would leave, fearing future attacks.
Some would stay, believing the city was safer than ever.

But one thing was certain—

Pyrenees Mountain Prefecture would never be the same again.

Arius’s Next Move

Arius had no intention of lingering here any longer.

With so much upheaval, many cultivators and mortals would likely flee the city overnight.

And with so many empty estates and abandoned cultivation dwellings—

The real estate market would plummet.

Arius had an idea.

Returning to his family estate, he would send Goat Elder to buy up properties at rock-bottom prices.

After all—

Pyrenees Mountain Prefecture was still a major city.

If the market crashed, it would inevitably recover.

And when it did—

Arius could make a fortune selling the properties back.

A Bloodstained Lesson

Today, Arius had learned something profound.

Power.

Absolute power changed everything.

He had prepared so much—

Strengthened his talismans.
Calculated his moves.
Plotted his attack against the old hag.

But in the end—

A single Level 5 cultivator had rendered it all pointless.

With one sword strike, he had resolved the entire crisis effortlessly.

“If I want to truly control my fate… I must reach Level 4 at all costs.”

Arius clenched his fists.

His goals were now clearer than ever.

Step one: Strengthen his clan.
Step two: Amass resources.
Step three: Forge his own path to Level 4.

And if he succeeded—

He would become the one wielding the sword.

Not the one watching from the shadows.