Godslayer: Reincarnated with SSS Rank Cultivation System-Chapter 140 : Death Of Mo Tianhong

Mo Tianhong's face twisted in horror. His eyes darted to the sky, then to Wen Ran. Fear turned to fury as realization dawned upon him. The heavens had been provoked by this vile junior. With a snarl, Mo Tianhong charged forward, murderous intent burning in his gaze.

"It's you...!" he growled through gritted teeth. "You're the reason!"

"Oh no you don't!" Xiao Lingyun's voice thundered, a roar that shook the earth beneath their feet. In an instant, the years melted from his face, his youthful vigor returning as his body thrummed with power. For Wen Ran's sake, he had unleashed a forbidden technique—one that consumed his lifespan to temporarily elevate his cultivation to the Heavenly Ascension stage. The price would be heavy... yet he had no regrets.

Why am I even doing this? Xiao Lingyun wondered, a fleeting doubt gnawing at the back of his mind. For a junior? For someone who may never even succeed in helping me? But... I am his master after all. I have a duty to protect my beloved disciple, and so I will sacrifice myself for his sake... even if this costs me my cultivation... He sighed inwardly. Perhaps the world will spare me, and with Wen Ran's help... I may yet recover.

A powerful aura erupted from Xiao Lingyun's body, surging like a tidal wave and shaking the heavens themselves. With a single movement, he extended his palm toward Mo Tianhong. The air crackled, twisting and warping as if reality itself was buckling under the pressure. The mysterious energy coiled around Mo Tianhong, constricting like an invisible python. The Violet Lotus Foundry's Sect Master screamed in pain, his voice shrill with panic as terror flickered across his face. The hunter had become the hunted, and the storm was only beginning.

"How is that possible? How are you-?!" Yet his voice was cut short as his body exploded in a crimson mist. The battle of the two brothers ended just like that—the power difference so vast that he was no more than an insect before Wen Ran's master now. Soon, the same fate awaited the remaining Nascent Soul cultivators, their bodies bursting into a mist of blood.

Wen Ran saw it all unfold, even as he fought his own battles, fending off wave after wave of enemies. Thousands surrounded him, yet his gaze never wavered from his master. He watched as the old man sacrificed himself, and for the first time ever, Wen Ran felt his heart ache in a way he'd never experienced before.

Why is that old fool doing this for me? he wondered bitterly. We aren't even that close as master and disciple... so why?

He knew that such an overwhelming surge of power came with a terrible cost. His master had gambled everything, and Wen Ran knew the price—his master's life was likely measured in hours now, or perhaps worse, he might survive only as a cripple. And it was all for him?

How could he ever repay such kindness? He had chosen the path of blood long ago, vowing to never look back. He had hardened himself, become ruthless for survival... yet here he stood, conflicted. The pain churned within him, flooding his senses and drowning his thoughts. His eyes dimmed slightly as the overwhelming emotions swallowed him whole.

Then rage took hold.

Wen Ran lost himself in the fury, becoming a mindless force of destruction. He hacked down one enemy after another, his crimson sword painting the battlefield in arcs of blood. Even the two heavily injured Nascent Soul cultivators, weakened after striking the system's defensive skill, were not spared. Their lives ended in a whirlwind of crimson steel.

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The blood of hundreds danced to the sky, weaving into fine needle-like blades that gathered above him. The swirling blood cloud condensed, taking shape as two massive crimson lotuses, their petals glistening like wet rubies. With a flick of Wen Ran's blade, the lotuses crashed down upon the two experts, their bodies torn apart, reduced to minced flesh and shattered bones.

A sudden wave of immense power slammed into Wen Ran, forcing his dantian to crack. The pain was blinding, and he stumbled as the tenth river within him surged and roared. No longer a river, it expanded into a vast, raging ocean, swallowing the other rivers and forcing them into submission.

Before his dantian could shatter completely, a second crimson moon rose from the blood ocean, its eerie glow bathing Wen Ran's insides in an unnatural light. The crimson moon pulsed with a violent, domineering aura, its power rivaling that of a Spirit Pagoda expert—yet it had not even solidified fully. The moon hovered ominously, waiting to form its true shape, signaling the approach of the Spirit Refinement stage.

Wen Ran's body screamed under the strain of the new circle forming, muscles tearing and bones groaning as if his very frame might collapse under the pressure. Yet he grinned like a madman, his lips curling with twisted satisfaction. His muscles spasmed violently, and blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, yet he refused to fall.

The sky above darkened, clouds spiraling into a vortex that churned above the sect like a brewing storm. The air thickened, oppressive and suffocating, as if the heavens themselves had descended to crush him. Thunder rumbled low and deep, and streaks of lightning flickered within the blackened sky, flashing like veins of molten gold tearing through the darkness.

Heavenly Punishment was coming. The bells in the sky rang like thunder, their deafening toll vibrating through the earth—a grim declaration of Wen Ran's impending death.

Yet his grin only widened. His blood-covered face, combined with his snow-white hair and crimson eyes, made him look more like a demon than a man—a twisted king standing atop a mountain of corpses.

Perfect... let it come...

He staggered forward, dragging his crimson sword behind him. The blade screeched across the blood-soaked ground, leaving a jagged trail of crimson in its wake. His body trembled under the strain, yet his steps never faltered. The blood pooling at his feet writhed unnaturally, twisting into countless tendrils that slithered behind him like obedient snakes, writhing and coiling as if eager to strike.

The remaining Violet Lotus disciples watched in frozen terror.

"What... what kind of monster is this?"

"His aura... it's stronger than even Spirit Core experts... no, that's impossible..."

"Run... run now..."

Wen Ran chuckled darkly, dragging his gaze across the trembling crowd. His crimson eyes gleamed like burning coals, and his smile carried the promise of death.

"You think you can run?" His voice dripped with cold malice. "No... not tonight..."

He lifted his blade to the sky, the blood along its edge glistening like liquid rubies as he pointed it toward the swirling clouds above.

"Come then!" Wen Ran roared, his voice thundering across the battlefield. "Strike me down if you dare!"

The air trembled with his challenge. The clouds above twisted violently, dark tendrils spiraling tighter as if the storm itself had become enraged. The first bolt of golden lightning crackled to life, coiling within the storm like a furious dragon poised to strike.

The storm's fury was coming—and Wen Ran would meet it with a smile, dragging everyone else into the abyss just to prove his own dominance in this blood-soaked world.