Chapter 38: The Great Retreat and the Lone Hunter

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The very fabric of reality seemed to shudder under the terrifying will of the Shadow Veil Cult Leader. His voice, laden with an ancient, guttural malice, boomed across the Bloodscar Mountains, each word a physical blow that sent ripples of despair through the Azure Cloud Sect's ranks.

The crater left by his first casual strike still smoldered, a stark, horrifying reminder of his absolute power. This was not a battle of equals; it was a slaughter.

"Begone, worms! Your insolence has disturbed an elder god's slumber for too long!"

The Nascent Soul expert roared, his form flickering as he unleashed a torrent of dark, spectral projectiles. These weren't mere spiritual attacks; they were imbued with the corrosive essence of his Nascent Soul Stage 5 cultivation—dissolving spiritual shields and flesh alike.

Dozens more disciples screamed, vaporizing into nothingness or crumbling into corrupted dust.

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Grand Elder Long Wei, his face pale and etched with the agony of decision, parried a Core Formation demon's attack with a desperate surge of his fading Qi. His robes were torn, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"All disciples! Retreat! Fall back to the designated rendezvous points! Core Disciples, Elders, cover the rear! This is an ordered retreat!"

His voice, usually firm and unwavering, was strained with an unfamiliar desperation. The command, though a bitter pill to swallow, was their only chance. To continue fighting was suicide.

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Panic erupted.

What little formation remained among the general Inner and Outer Sect disciples shattered. Cultivators, once proud and resolute, now fled in disorganized terror, their spiritual tools clutched desperately—or abandoned—in their haste.

The ground became a treacherous obstacle course of the dead and the dying, slick with blood and demonic ichor.

"Move! Don't look back! If you hesitate, you die!"

Ran Qiu bellowed, his spiritual whip cracking like thunder. He had just disarmed a charging cultist, using the momentum to spin and deflect a bolt of demonic energy aimed at a younger female disciple. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, but his eyes burned with a fierce, protective fire.

He was Foundation Establishment Stage 4, strong enough to fight—but even he felt the suffocating despair.

"Damn it, there are too many! And that monster... we can't possibly—"

His voice trailed off as the Cult Leader casually raised a hand, and a swirling vortex of dark energy materialized, sucking in and crushing a dozen disciples who had been too slow to flee. The display of power was soul-crushing.

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Ran Qiu glanced back instinctively, trying to rally others, and for a split second, amidst the fleeing torrent, he saw him.

A dark silhouette, moving against the tide.

Not retreating, but advancing.

It was Li Shen.

"Li Shen?! What in the blazes... are you insane?!"

Ran Qiu gaped, his mind unable to process the sight. Li Shen, who should be fleeing for his life, was plunging deeper into the demonic stronghold—a silent, deadly shadow.

He wanted to call out, to pull him back, but a swarm of skeletal demons with bone claws forced his attention back to the rearguard.

"He... he can't be!"

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Meanwhile, Zhou Tai was a picture of spiraling, frantic terror. His Foundation Establishment Stage 4 cultivation, once a source of pride, now barely kept him alive.

He had overextended himself earlier, trying to rack up glory points. But now? The sheer numbers of empowered demons and cultists were overwhelming him.

A grotesque, malformed beast with dripping fangs lunged, and Zhou Tai shrieked, blindly hacking with his saber. He managed to dismember it—but not before a corrosive claw raked across his thigh, leaving a burning, festering wound.

"Get out of my way, you pathetic wastes!"

He roared, shoving aside a stunned Qi Condensation disciple as he stumbled backward. His pride, once his anchor, had shattered into animalistic fear.

He glanced up at the Nascent Soul Cult Leader, whose casual devastation mocked all his aspirations.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! This isn't how it ends! Elder Guo, save me!"

Then he saw it.

In the chaotic swirl, a figure moved with eerie, undisturbed efficiency—harvesting kills with impossible ease.

How is that damn handyman still going?! He should be the first to die! Why isn't he falling?!

The thought was poison in his mind, eclipsing even his own terror.

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Even Gao Lei, normally an unyielding force, and Wei Han, ever-precise, found themselves in grim retreat.

Gao Lei's Fist Intent slammed into a charging Gazer Demon, pulverizing its core, but his breath hitched as he saw a Core Formation elder take a direct hit from a Nascent Soul pressure wave and collapse from the sky.

"We have to hold the line for the younger ones!"

Gao Lei grunted, his burly frame shielding two terrified Qi Condensation disciples.

Wei Han, his Saber Intent a cold, silver gleam, moved like a ghost—deflecting incoming projectiles, delivering swift, precise cuts to cultists in pursuit.

They were both at their limits, pushing Foundation Establishment Stage 5 and Stage 4 cultivation to the breaking point.

The retreat was costly, a bloody stain on the Azure Cloud Sect's proud history.

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Amidst the shrieking tide of retreating disciples, Li Shen stood firm.

His decision was cold, precise, and utterly devoid of hesitation.

He felt the pull of the sect's general retreat, the spiritual commands from the elders—but they faded into background noise.

This was no longer their battlefield.

It was his.

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The chaos, the dying cultists and demons, the shattered formation—this was an unparalleled opportunity.

His Foundation Establishment Stage 7 cultivation surged—a powerful, dark current within his meridians. The new stage brought not just more energy, but a sharpened perception of the battlefield.

His Blade Intent, at the 9th Stage, was a living extension of his senses, pinpointing every weakness.

He plunged deeper.

A swarm of lesser imps, emboldened by the retreating cultivators, scurried toward him.

Li Shen's movements were no longer just efficient—they were artful, a deadly dance.

He executed a flawless Asura's Veil, disappearing from their sight and reappearing directly amidst their ranks.

The Demon Slayer Blade flashed.

His Heaven-Cleaving Annihilation Blade Art manifested as a rapid series of sweeping cuts, imbued with the power of Blade Rend.

Limbs flew. Blood splattered. Essence dissipated.

His Heaven Asura Destruction Body consumed it eagerly.

> The taste is richer now...

A detached thought.

His Stage 7 resonance, the improved vitality of the Asura Qi—it processed faster. More efficiently.

This wasn't just a fight.

It was harvest.

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A much larger, four-armed demon, carrying crude stone weapons and radiating minor Core Formation essence, charged him.

Li Shen met it without a shred of fear.

His Discernment of Flaws instantly highlighted unstable magical sigils etched into the demon's forearms.

He dodged a wild swing, became a blur, and struck.

The sigils shattered.

The demon's arms withered. Its energy destabilized.

Li Shen drove his blade into its core—absorbing its substantial essence.

> Intoxicating.

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From the rear, Xue Jin, leading a group of wounded disciples, cast a final, agonizing look back.

The battlefield was devastation incarnate.

Ruined structures. Smoking craters. A sea of cultists and demons howling in triumph.

Then she saw him.

A solitary figure. A dark stain against the crimson landscape.

Li Shen.

He wasn't fleeing.

He wasn't even fighting defensively.

He was hunting.

His aura was faint—but terrifying. Dark, yet pure. The sign of a breakthrough... or something beyond.

He's not retreating. He's staying.

Her breath caught.

He's consuming them. This isn't recklessness. This is... something else entirely.

She shivered—not from fear of the cult, but from him.

A force unbound by fear. A hunger no ordinary cultivator could comprehend.

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The Nascent Soul Sect Leader laughed, the sound echoing across the mountains.

He paid no mind to the lone cultivator moving into his domain.

With a final wave, he unleashed another tide of shadowy energy to break any hopes of regrouping, before turning back to his grand ritual.

Li Shen's breakthrough went unnoticed, lost in the Nascent Soul's vast domain.

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The sounds of the Azure Cloud Sect's desperate retreat faded.

Li Shen stood alone, amidst the carnage.

The triumphant roars of cultists. The dark chanting of an enemy empire.

But within him?

The hum of his Dantian, the rising storm of his bloodline, the momentum of transcendence.

He felt no despair.

No fear.

Only hunger.

And the boundless opportunity of a battlefield that had become his personal hunting ground.

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