Chapter 1139

"What?!" The feral grin on Wang Mazi's face froze instantly, turning into utter horror! He felt his palm as if touching absolute death! An indescribable, terrifying power that seemed to extinguish all life surged up his arm's meridians, wildly corroding upward!

"Ah!!!" A blood-curdling wail echoed through the woodshed! Wang Mazi's right hand, starting from the wrist, had its skin and flesh burned as if by invisible flame, quickly turning ashen, desiccated, and crumbling! That grayish hue spread upward like a plague!

"Demon! You're a demon!" Wang Mazi's soul nearly fled; he slapped a pallid bone tile at his waist with his left hand!

"Pfft!" The bone tile exploded, a thick blood-red killing intent mixed with wailing vengeful spirits spewing out, forming a ferocious ghost-face shield that barely blocked in front of him! At the same time he shot backward, ignoring the excruciating pain of his severed hand, only wanting to flee this terrifying woodshed!

However, how could Han Wuxian give him a chance?

He took a step! Shrinking the earth to an inch! The terrifying speed granted by the Returning to Void Sword Body was displayed to the fullest! In an instant he closed in behind Wang Mazi!

Wang Mazi was horrified to the point of despair; he formed a seal with his left hand, the remaining bone tiles at his waist glowing with dark light as several wailing vengeful spirits lunged at Han Wuxian! At the same time he spat out a mouthful of foul black blood, turning it into a blood-arrow aimed at Han Wuxian's face! This was a life-or-death evil art!

Han Wuxian's eyes showed no ripple. Faced with the onrushing spirits and blood-arrow, he merely lifted his finger again.

This time, what condensed at his fingertip was no longer a trifling finger force, but a gray-white sword gleam about an inch long, forged from the initial fusion of Returning to Void Power and stellar sword intent, refined to the extreme! At the core of the gleam, a barely perceptible azure star-flame flickered.

Silence Extinction Sword Gleam!

Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!

The sword gleam trembled slightly, and several minute gray-white sword qi burst forth!

The onrushing wailing spirits fell silent instantly, vanishing silently like bubbles!

That vicious blood-arrow vaporized instantly under the gray-white sword qi, disappearing without a trace!

Wang Mazi's ghost-face shield, forged with his last dregs of evil energy, was pierced through like papier-mâché by the sword qi!

"No!!!" Wang Mazi's despairing howl only managed half a sound.

A gray-white sword gleam, like the sigh of a death god, pierced his brow!

His eyes, filled with shock, greed, and despair, froze in an instant; his body, as if drained of all vitality, quickly turned ashen and withered, finally with a "pfft" turning into a cloud of drifting gray dust, his soul unable to escape, utterly returning to Silence Extinction.

Inside the woodshed, deathly silence reigned. Only the dust drifted down slowly.

Han Wuxian stood where he was, his complexion paler than before, his body swaying slightly as he forcibly suppressed the surge of bloodiness in his throat. The sword core in his dantian dimmed, its cracks seeming to widen a fraction. Forcing the power of the Returning to Void Sword Body exacted a huge toll.

He lowered his gaze to the bronze fragment clutched tightly in his hand. Its blue-gray glow seemed to brighten a touch, and its warm, moist power continued to flow into his body, weakly nourishing his depleted sword core.

"Village chief! A-Mu! Are you all right?" Outside came the villagers' anxious shouts and chaotic footsteps.

Han Wuxian swiftly stowed the bronze fragment in his bosom, restrained all his aura, and resumed the appearance of gravely injured weakness. He glanced at the gray ashes where Wang Mazi had turned, and at the several dimmed bone tile shards, a flicker of coldness passing through his eyes.

Blackwind Stronghold… demonic cultivators… ominous star…

This seemingly mundane Sky Origin Realm—its waters seemed deeper than he imagined. And this bronze fragment was evidently only a corner of a larger puzzle. The lantern guided by the Star Torch Sovereign might be hidden somewhere in this realm.

He pushed open the woodshed door, facing the villagers' looks of suspicion, fear, and a hint of relieved gratitude after the calamity, his voice hoarse yet calm:

"The demonic cultivator has been eliminated."

Han Wuxian pushed open the splintered wooden door of the woodshed; the early morning's faintly cold light mixed with dust poured in. Outside, the villagers of Shilin Village huddled together, their faces frozen in shock, fear, and a trace of bewildered relief after the ordeal. They gazed at the ashen-skinned, deep-eyed figure within the woodshed, as if beholding a fierce deity that had just awakened, cloaked in human skin.

On the ground lay only a few dimmed bone tile fragments and a small pinch of gray dust drifting on the wind. That fiendish, evil cultivator Wang Mazi, at Lianqi Fifth Layer, together with his vicious evil arts, had simply… vanished? Not even a scrap remained!

Deathly silence. Only heavy breathing and distant sporadic sobs could be heard.

Village Chief Zhao shoved aside the villagers in front, his face etched with deep lines, his eyes complex to the extreme. He first glanced at the ashes on the ground, then fixed a hard stare on Han Wuxian; his throat worked a few times before he let out a heavy sigh. He suddenly turned and roared at the still-shaken villagers behind him: "What are you standing there for! Clean up the aftermath! Carry the wounded back! And… and sweep this place clean!" His voice bore an unquestionable authority, dispelling some of the fear.

The villagers, as if waking from a dream, sprang into action, yet their gazes toward Han Wuxian remained filled with awe and distance, none daring to come within three feet of him.

Han Wuxian paid no heed to those looks. He hunched his waist, coughing violently a few times, a trace of grayish blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. The backlash from forcibly activating the Silence Extinction Finger and sword gleam clung like a bone-deep malady; the cracks in his dantian's Returning to Void Sword Core were densely packed, dimmed nearly to extinction. The suppression of worldly laws felt like an invisible shackle, now three-tenths heavier than before. He leaned on the doorframe to barely stay upright.

"Benefactor…" Village Chief Zhao stepped forward, his voice dry, filled with inexpressible reverence and a hint of unspoken worry, "Great kindness needs no thanks. But… you killed Wang Mazi; Blackwind Stronghold will certainly not let this rest. Their chief, 'Blackwind Elder,' is a Foundation Establishment Stage demonic cultivator, ruthless in his methods, and versed in soul-refining evil arts… I fear they will soon…"

"No problem." Han Wuxian interrupted him, his voice hoarse yet calm, carrying a deep‑to‑the‑bone chill, "However many come, I'll kill that many." He wasn't boasting; he was stating a fact. As soon as his strength recovered a bit, under the Returning to Void Sword Body, a Foundation Establishment demonic cultivator would be no more than a clay chicken and tile dog. But right now, even standing was an effort for him.

Village Chief Zhao was shaken by the killing intent that froze all things in Han Wuxian's words, a shudder running through him, and he hurriedly said, "Benefactor, your injuries are grave; please come with me to the main house to rest." He dared not let Han Wuxian remain in the woodshed, which now felt like a place of lethal menace.

Han Wuxian did not refuse; supported by Village Chief Zhao, he walked haltingly toward the chief's main house. Inside the furnishings were simple: a wooden table, a few stools, and a earthen bed. The air was suffused with the bitterness of herbs and the scent of cooking fires.

"Please have a seat, benefactor; I'll go get you some hot water and food." Village Chief Zhao helped Han Wuxian sit at the edge of the bed, then hurriedly withdrew, as if lingering another moment would be unbearable under that invisible pressure.