"Who? Who is there?!"
The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Ying Changkong, a proud Two-Star Dou Huang, felt the hair on his arms stand on end.
The situation was beyond bizarre; it was impossible. He was an Emperor of the land, yet someone had bypassed his guards, entered his private sanctuary, and spoken into his ear without him sensing a single ripple of energy. In his mind, not even a low-level Dou Zong could achieve such absolute concealment.
Could it be... a Middle-Stage Dou Zong or higher? Cold sweat carved a path down his forehead. Ying Changkong was arrogant, but he wasn't suicidal. He made it a point to never offend anyone with a Dou Zong backing them. As he scanned the flickering shadows of the tent, the silence became a physical weight, crushing the air out of his lungs.
"You idiots! Why are you just standing there? Search the—"
Ying Changkong turned to bark orders at his subordinates, but the words died in his throat. His several elite guards, who had been reporting to him just moments ago, were now slumped over. Blood leaked from their eyes, ears, and noses. They were dead—silent, instantaneous, and without a single mark of physical struggle.
Panic finally overrode his reason. "Show yourself! Come out and fight me! I'll kill you!"
He roared at the empty air, his voice cracking with a fear he hadn't felt since he was a child. He knew he was no match for this hidden entity, but the unknown was a torture he couldn't endure. This was psychological warfare at its peak—the "Lao Liu" method of breaking a man's spirit before taking his life.
Ying Changkong wasn't just screaming; he was acting. As he roared, he unleashed his Dou Qi in a violent, unmasked explosion. He hoped the massive energy flare would alert the other Luo Yan factions camped nearby. If they saw a Dou Huang in distress, they would have to investigate.
One minute passed. Two minutes. Three...
The night outside remained deathly silent. No alarms were raised. No reinforcements arrived.
In a normal situation, the other camps were close enough to respond within thirty seconds. The fact that no one was coming meant he was in a "pocket" of reality, cut off from the rest of the world.
"Should I give you a little more time?" the voice mused, dripping with playful cruelty. "Let's see if the rest of Luo Yan is coming to save their favorite bandit."
Ying Changkong's heart hit the floor. "Who are you?! My Black Eagle Bandits have never offended a master of your caliber! If we have done so unknowingly, I will give you my entire fortune to atone for it!"
"My, my, Ying Changkong. You certainly have a short memory. It hasn't even been a full day since we last met."
From the center of the tent, the space blurred and twisted. A silhouette began to coalesce, turning from a ghost into a man of flesh and bone.
It was Xiao Lin.
Xiao Lin had used his Heavenly State Soul to drift into the camp like a shadow. He had crushed the brains of the guards with a simple soul shock and then erected a Soul Barrier around the tent. This barrier acted as a "Stealth Field"—no sound or Dou Qi fluctuations could leak out. To the outside world, Ying Changkong was just sleeping quietly.
Ying Changkong's eyes bulged until they threatened to pop out of their sockets. His jaw hung low enough to swallow an egg.
"No... impossible! It can't be you!" he stammered, his world-view crumbling. "You're a One-Star Dou Wang! A brat! How can you have the power of a Middle-Stage Dou Zong?!"
He had considered every expert in the Northwest, but he never suspected the "bait" he had chased through the mountains. The "sheep" had just revealed it was a prehistoric wolf.
"You know," Xiao Lin mused, looking at the trembling Ying Changkong with a touch of irony. "You were right about one thing yesterday. If Sect Leader Yun Shan hadn't intervened, you wouldn't have lived to see today. I had already picked out your burial plot on that hillside."
Xiao Lin's voice was as calm as a summer pond. To him, discussing the death of a Two-Star Dou Huang was no different than discussing how to crush an ant.
With his Eight-Star Dou Huang cultivation and Heavenly State Soul, Xiao Lin was effectively invincible against anyone below the Dou Zun realm. While a Dou Zun—who masters the laws of space and can sense spiritual attacks—would be a genuine challenge, a low-level Dou Huang like Ying Changkong had zero margin for resistance.
"No... I don't believe it!" Ying Changkong stammered, his mind fracturing under the pressure. "You're a One-Star brat! How can you have the presence of a high-level Dou Zong? There must be someone else... an expert hiding in the shadows! Show yourself!"
He spun around, his eyes wide and bloodshot, searching the corners of the tent for a hidden master. Xiao Lin simply watched him, a faint, mocking smile on his lips. "Found anyone yet? If not, I'd like to finish this. It's a long night, and I was hoping to make it back to camp for a late-night snack."
The casualness of the statement was the ultimate insult. In the Northwest Continent, a Dou Huang was a peak existence, a sun in the sky. To Xiao Lin, this "sun" was just a snack break.
"Wait! My offer still stands!" Ying Changkong gasped, nearly falling to his knees. "Spare me, and everything I've stolen over the decades is yours! I swear, the Black Eagle Bandits will never cross the Xiao Clan again! We will retreat ten miles the moment we see your banner!"
Ying Changkong was a survivor above all else. Wealth could be re-stolen; a life, once gone, was permanent.
"Think about it," Xiao Lin countered, his tone playful. "If I kill you, everything you own becomes mine anyway. And as for why I didn't kill you yesterday but came for you tonight... can't you guess?"
The realization hit Ying Changkong like a physical blow. He remembered Xiao Lin's "brave" act of leading him away from the group. He had thought the boy was a suicidal hero. In reality, Xiao Lin was just looking for a private place to bury him.
"You wanted to hide your strength," Ying Changkong whispered, his voice hollow. "The moment you showed your face here... you never intended for me to leave this tent alive."
"Not as slow as you look," Xiao Lin replied.
"Fine! If I'm to die, I'll take a piece of you with me!"
Ying Changkong's face twisted into a mask of feral desperation. He chose not to self-destruct—a bandit's pride is too low for such a dignified end—but to unleash his ultimate technique.
"Eagle Flight: Sky-Sunderer!"
His entire body vanished within a surge of brilliant green Dou Qi, forming a massive, razor-taloned eagle that lunged at Xiao Lin's throat. The distance was less than ten feet; in a normal fight, the impact would have been instantaneous.
But as Ying Changkong surged forward, he hit an invisible wall. The closer he got to Xiao Lin, the thicker the air became, until it felt like he was flying through liquid lead. He was inches away, his talons outstretched, but he was frozen in a temporal-like stasis.
"Tsk. If you won't die with dignity, I'll have to assist you," Xiao Lin said, stepping forward through the stagnant air.
The "muddy" sensation Ying Changkong felt was Xiao Lin's Heavenly State Soul manifesting as a physical barrier. A Two-Star Dou Huang's momentum simply wasn't enough to pierce the spiritual density of a Heavenly soul.
"Time to go. God-Slaying Finger."
Xiao Lin reached out and tapped Ying Changkong's forehead with a single finger. A spark of starlight flashed at the point of contact.
Ying Changkong's eyes instantly lost their luster. His soul was extinguished, and his brain was turned to ash within his skull. One finger, one Sovereign dead.
Xiao Lin lowered his hand and reached for the storage ring on the corpse's finger. "One less vulture in the sky. Now, let's see if those stolen riches were worth the hype."