The old emperor let out a long breath.
The small city below, with a population of tens of thousands, along with several nearby villages, had all been reduced to ashes in the aftermath of the battle.
Their fight hadn't even started here, but when powerhouses clash...
They could leap across a thousand miles in an instant—no one could predict where they’d appear next.
The area affected by their battle—even just the aftershocks—was more than enough to wipe out mortals.
The old emperor held the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.
That Grand Elder of the Myriad Sword Sect had already been sucked into it.
This was the first time the old emperor had attacked a fellow powerhouse in the Tribulation Stage.
All the time he’d spent absorbing the demons from the Demon Suppression Tower hadn’t gone to waste.
Honestly, if it hadn’t been for taking that punch from Lingxu...
He might’ve made his move even earlier.
He’d spent a long time recovering.
Lingxu’s deterrent power was too strong—it made him hesitant to act rashly.
Now came the next step: hunting down the Tribulation Stage powerhouses on the list.
With that thought, the old emperor put away the Ten Thousand Souls Banner and stepped off into the void.
Several months later.
News of the Myriad Sword Sect’s Grand Elder falling spread across Central State.
As expected of the coming storm.
In less than a century, several Tribulation Stage cultivators had fallen—some dead, some imprisoned in Mount Shushan’s Demon Suppression Tower.
When Li Xuanxiao heard the news, his face turned grim.
Besides him, who else would go out of their way to target Tribulation Stage powerhouses?
But the energy needed to encircle and kill someone at the Tribulation Stage was enormous.
When two Tribulation Stage cultivators fought, it was hard to get a quick result.
And any battle would definitely attract attention from Mount Shushan or other factions.
Unless it was a swift, decisive strike.
Then it’d have to be a crushing force like Master Lingxu’s.
So, to encircle and kill one, you’d need at least two Tribulation Stage cultivators.
In Central State, the number of factions that could mobilize two Tribulation Stage experts at once could be counted on one hand.
And even then, any such movement would immediately raise alarms.
Unless... the old emperor...
Li Xuanxiao’s first thought was of the old emperor—his fellow transmigrator.
Only he might have the ability to silently and efficiently hunt down Tribulation Stage cultivators.
That Ten Thousand Souls Banner... it’s just too broken. It shouldn’t even exist in this world.
While he had been moving swiftly, that old man wasn’t idle either.
A sly bastard who worked in the shadows.
On the surface, he was the emperor of Daxia, an ally of Mount Shushan.
A well-known ruler, praised by all under heaven.
There was no valid reason to mobilize Mount Shushan against him.
Otherwise, things wouldn’t be this complicated!
Li Xuanxiao also didn’t want to drag Mount Shushan into this.
The old emperor was well-loved by the people. Put aside the shady stuff he did in secret—at least in the eyes of the masses and cultivators alike, he had a spotless reputation as a good emperor.
If Mount Shushan moved against him openly, it would surely spark outrage.
Li Xuanxiao had to think of Mount Shushan’s future.
He stood by the window with his hands behind his back.
He was anxious inside, but didn’t dare act recklessly.
The most crucial point—there were powers backing the old emperor.
One misstep, and he’d lose everything!!
Several months later.
“Demon Suppression Bureau investigating—clear the area, all unrelated personnel disperse!”
Seeing the scene before him, Li Xuanxiao—
Or rather, Zhang Haoran—frowned slightly.
He was now a Thousand-Man Commander of the Capital’s Demon Suppression Bureau.
He recalled what the Prime Minister had told him days ago:
Sometimes, there are problems that can’t be solved through justice alone. What will you do then?
Was this a test for him?
Right now, the scene laid out before Zhang Haoran—
The village had become a living hell, corpses strewn in every direction.
Heads rolled to the side, limbs twisted and broken, blood soaked the earth, forming dark red streams that trickled slowly.
The air was thick with the stench of blood—nauseating.
One of his men shouted loudly.
Under the moonlight, a figure stood atop a tree.
Gazing at them with a twisted grin.
It was a young man—pale-skinned, with a ferocious smile on his face.
Zhang Haoran gripped his Demon-Slaying Blade.
The killing aura around this guy...
No doubt, he was the culprit.
And he just stood there brazenly, waiting for the Demon Suppression Bureau to arrive.
Zhang Haoran pressed down on the hilt, then exploded into motion and drew the blade.
“Bold criminal, take this!!”
In an instant, two sharp whooshes cut through the air.
Two small, gleaming silver needles shot out from the scabbard.
Take these two needles!
Drawing the sword was a lie.
The man flinched slightly but reacted quickly.
With a flick of his wrist, a fierce blast of sword energy erupted.
One needle was knocked away, but the other pierced his wrist.
Zhang Haoran lowered his center of gravity, knees slightly bent like a fully drawn bow.
With a stomp, he lunged forward.
His longsword clashed with the man’s sword.
The ringing of metal echoed nonstop.
The opponent’s cultivation wasn’t weak—his combat skills were solid.
While Zhang Haoran engaged him, the others from the Demon Suppression Bureau joined in.
The man was already struggling with just Zhang Haoran—
Now, with the rest attacking, he was completely overwhelmed.
He couldn’t handle so many at once.
Just as they were about to take him down—
The man suddenly pulled out a talisman.
One glance, and it was clear—this talisman had been drawn by a master-level Talisman Artist.
Way above his cultivation level—it was a life-saving charm.
As he activated the talisman, a shadow flickered behind him—
A sword thrust through the air.
Zhang Haoran shouted.
Sword aura exploded, detonating in a dazzling burst of sharp lights.
Ripples and shockwaves shook everything nearby.
Dust flew, grass and trees were blasted apart.
Zhang Haoran took the brunt of the blast and felt his spirit rattled.
By the time he recovered, the man was long gone.
Zhang Haoran snapped.
“Commander... n-no need for that.”
His deputy, coughing up blood, replied.
Zhang Haoran glanced over in confusion.
The deputy explained, “I’ve seen him before—it’s Hou Tianlai, the young master of the Marquis’ Residence. I saw him at the brothel.”
Zhang Haoran fell silent.
“My visit to the brothel was official business—not for pleasure,” the deputy added quickly.
“What kind of place is this Marquis’ Residence?”
“Hou Tianlai’s father is the cousin of the Imperial Concubine.”
Zhang Haoran scoffed, “Drop a brick in the capital, and it’ll land on some imperial relative. The emperor’s got like eight hundred concubines. A concubine’s cousin’s kid—what the h*ll does that even count as!”