One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

boom!

Zhang Taichu's right foot, which had been hovering in mid-air, slammed down without any warning.

The core of the cultivation furnace, which embodied Ma Xianhong's life's work and was said to be able to rewrite the rules of the supernatural world, instantly lost all its luster under Zhang Taichu's kick, which was wrapped in terrifying golden light.

The hard alloy shell is like a thin sheet of paper, twisting, deforming, and cracking.

The intricate rune circuits and complex energy channels within are as fragile as building blocks in a child's hand in the face of absolute power.

It didn't even have time to let out its final lament.

The originally dark blue light went out instantly.

The rhythmic sound of the machinery abruptly stopped.

The perfect creation that was just moments ago radiating a divine aura has now turned into a pile of smoky, hissing scrap metal.

The entire wooden building instantly fell into a deathly silence.

Only a few screws, which had sprung out of their sockets, fell to the ground, making a crisp, clanging sound that seemed particularly jarring in the otherwise quiet space.

Ma Xianhong remained frozen in place, his hand still reaching towards the stove.

His pupils dilated instantly, becoming empty and lifeless.

His mouth was wide open, and strange noises came from his throat, as if someone was choking him and he couldn't catch his breath.

Broken.

It's all broken.

His dream, his perseverance, his pride, and that so-called new Jie Sect.

Everything was reduced to trash in that casual kick.

"Tsk."

Zhang Taichu withdrew his foot and rubbed the sole of his shoe on the ground with some disgust, as if he had just stepped on something dirty.

He turned around and casually waved his hand.

The golden armchair that had always been with him appeared out of thin air.

Zhang Taichu plopped down on it and casually pulled out the unfinished teacup from the void—actually, from the pouch in his sleeve.

He lifted the lid, blew away the tea dust floating on top, and took a sip.

Then, he slowly glanced at the pile of scrap metal, then at Ma Xianhong, who was completely petrified, and shook his head:

"I thought it would cause some kind of commotion."

"And all you got was a loud noise?"

"And that sound..."

Zhang Taichu put down his teacup, his face full of disappointment:

"It's so stuffy, not crisp at all."

"You dare call this piece of junk, which can't even make a decent sound, a stove?"

These words were like the last pinch of salt, ruthlessly rubbed into Ma Xianhong's bleeding heart.

"puff--!!"

Ma Xianhong's body trembled violently, and he spat out a mouthful of blood, which splattered onto the pile of scrap metal.

His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed limply to the ground, his aura instantly weakening to the extreme, as if all his energy had been drained away, turning him into a walking corpse.

th.

Killing people and killing people is nothing more than that.

Outside.

Zhang Chulan and Wang Ye, who had been peeking inside, were now completely stunned.

"Goodness..."

Zhang Chulan swallowed, feeling his throat go dry.

"That's a cultivation furnace... a divine artifact said to be able to mass-produce superhumans..."

"Just like that... you stomped it flat?"

"Not even a mushroom cloud rose?"

Wang Ye gave a wry smile and reached out to rub his stiff cheeks:

What do you think?

"In the face of absolute power, all skills and techniques are just empty shells."

"The Taoist priest is teaching Ma Xianhong a lesson in how to be a person."

"Unfortunately..."

Wang Ye glanced at Ma Xianhong, who was lying motionless on the ground:

"This Master Ma will probably never be able to get out of this shadow in his lifetime."

Zhang Taichu sat in the chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest, making a rhythmic tapping sound.

He did not rush to deal with Ma Xianhong.

They weren't in a hurry to leave.

Instead, he slightly turned his head, his gaze passing over the broken wooden door and landing on the gradually darkening sky outside.

It should have been dusk, with the evening glow still hanging in the sky.

But at the moment.

A thin layer of mist had begun to rise around Biyou Village.

The mist wasn't white; it had an eerie pale red hue and a nauseating, bloody smell.

"Old Wang."

Zhang Taichu suddenly spoke, his voice unusually calm:

Stop just reminiscing.

"Can your Feng Hou Qi Men Dun Jia still function?"

Wang Ye was stunned for a moment, subconsciously glanced around, and his brows furrowed instantly:

"What do you mean?"

"Even Ma Xianhong is down, could there be more...?"

Before he could finish speaking...

rustling...

A series of dense, chaotic footsteps came from all directions.

That sounded very strange.

It didn't sound like the walking of a normal person; it sounded more like countless feet dragging on the ground, heavy, stiff, yet carrying a chilling urgency.

"roar……"

A deep, beast-like roar echoed in the twilight.

Followed by.

On the ruins surrounding the wooden building, in the shadows of the woods, at the corner of the street.

Countless eyes lit up.

Those are red eyes.

Scarlet, fanatical, devoid of any reason, only the most primal desires and murderous intent remain.

"These...these are..."

Zhang Chulan's eyes widened, and the golden light spell around his body instinctively lit up:

"Villagers?!"

That's right.

They are villagers of Biyou Village.

Those kind and gentle old men and women who used to work at sunrise and rest at sunset in the village.

Those ordinary people who once surrounded Ma Xianhong, calling him "Master," and hoping to change their fate through the cultivation furnace.

At this moment, they were holding hoes, sickles, and even kitchen knives and wooden sticks.

Their faces were contorted, veins bulging, and drool dripping from their mouths as they stared intently in the direction of the wooden building.

Staring at Zhang Taichu sitting on the ruins.

"Master...we cannot lose..."

"The stove... my stove..."

"That's my life... Anyone who dares to take my life... I'll kill them!!"

"kill!!!"

I don't know who shouted it first.

next second.

The densely packed crowd, like a flood bursting its banks, surged toward the wooden building with a suffocating, frenzied atmosphere.