Extremists exist in every country, in every place. However, extremists like the old man—those who took their beliefs to such a horrifying degree—were few and far between.

For that fanatical belief despised by billions, for this place he had sworn to live and die with, he was willing to give up his very life. In his frantic panic to battle the flames, he completely overlooked the monstrous figure standing not far away—the one who had defeated him time and again with such ease.

Watching the old man scramble to fight the fire, Qin Fan’s eyes grew cold. Clenching his teeth, he took a great stride forward and charged, leaping toward the old man and lashing out with a sweeping kick.

BOOM!

PFFT!

The old man slammed into a support column, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Yet, he completely ignored his own physical condition, even subconsciously ignoring Qin Fan. His eyes saw nothing but the ever-growing flames, his mind fixated on a singular mission: to extinguish the fire.

Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, he charged toward the inferno once again.

But what awaited him was another of Qin Fan’s controlled kicks.

Facing Qin Fan’s relentless assault, the old man lost track of how much blood he had spat. The panic and despair in his eyes grew deeper with every blow.

"Don’t burn it! Don’t burn it! Please, I’m begging you, don’t let it burn! DAMMIT! DAMMIT!"

Watching the flames spread, the old man let out a heart-wrenching howl. His body, now frail and fragile after losing so much blood, still staggered forward as he lunged at the fire once more.

It is said that many things in this world transcend life and death. Indeed, for the old man at this moment, the Worship Room was one such thing. This devotion made him forget the monstrous presence of Qin Fan; in his fanatical state, he had no time to consider whether his actions were meaningful or futile.

As he lunged again, Qin Fan stopped kicking and instead summoned the Hemp Vine Whip.

With a vigorous flick, the whip shattered the floorboards before whistling through the air toward the old man.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

With a life of its own, the spiritual Hemp Vine Whip rapidly coiled around the old man just as he lunged toward the fire. With a sharp tug, Qin Fan slammed the whip-bound old man heavily to the floor in front of him.

"This is your belief? Then open your eyes and watch closely! Watch how this dogshit turns to ash!" With no regard for the man’s age, Qin Fan held the whip’s handle and planted his foot on the old man’s back, his voice cold and harsh.

"No, don’t burn it! I beg you, please stop the fire!" Bound tightly by the Hemp Vine Whip and unable to move, the old man stared hysterically at the spreading inferno and shrieked. If this continued, the entire Worship Room—along with all the Spiritual Tablets of the heroic spirits he held so sacred—would be reduced to ashes in three to five minutes.

"Aren’t you the Guardian? Get up and extinguish it! Aren’t you a Ninja? Use your Invisibility! Get out there and fight the fire!" Qin Fan laughed manically as he watched the flames rage higher.

"No, no, no! Please, stop the fire! Kill me! Yes, you can kill me! I am willing to die to protect the Worship Room!" Ignoring Qin Fan’s arrogant taunts, the old man pleaded desperately, his voice straining at its highest pitch.

"Don’t worry, I’ll kill you," Qin Fan said coldly. "But first, I’m going to make you watch these abominations burn to ash! Offerings? Worship? Still trying to defy the heavens? HAHA! After today, the Jingguo Society will no longer exist! Death isn’t enough to cleanse these bastards of their sins. Today, I will use this fire to burn away their very souls, ensuring they find no peace and are never reborn for all of eternity! From now on, they can forget about their offerings. Let them eat shit!"

Filled with hatred, Qin Fan stomped viciously on the old man’s back.

As his words fell, the fire surged.

WHOOSH! CRACKLE! CRACKLE!

The flames immediately engulfed the altar. The solid wood Spiritual Tablets popped and crackled as the fire devoured them, sending plumes of thick, pungent smoke into the air.

In less than a minute, the rows of Spiritual Tablets were reduced to cinders.

"I have failed our ancestors! I have failed our heroic spirits! Tanaka deserves to die! I have no face to meet the war heroes of the Great Japan Empire! No face at all! Oh, great Tian Zhao, grant Tanaka death! I beg you, grant me death!" Witnessing the last Spiritual Tablet turn to ash, the old man, still bound by the Soft Whip, threw his head back and let out a wretched, tear-filled cry.

He was a Divine Ninja. The Guardian Divine Ninja of this very room. Who could have imagined that Tanaka Nobuo, a man whose name was etched in the annals of ninja history, would not only witness the destruction of the Worship Room but also end up lying helpless at the feet of a man from Huaxia?

If not for the fire, perhaps Tanaka Nobuo would have fought Qin Fan to the death. But that single blaze had changed everything. It had reduced a mighty Divine Ninja to someone even more helpless than a low-level ninja.

"The one who can grant you death isn’t your Tian Zhao! It’s me!" Qin Fan retorted. "I told you I’d give you a Sky Lantern death. Don’t worry, your wish will be granted. I’ll fulfill that little plea you sent to that bastard god of yours."

Qin Fan ignored Tanaka Nobuo’s tearful cries. His face was expressionless, but his lips curled into a cold smirk. As he finished speaking, he shifted the foot on Tanaka’s back. He then stomped down viciously on the old man’s limbs.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK! CRACK!

With four sharp snaps, the limbs of the Divine Ninja—a spy who had hidden in Huaxia for thirty years—were utterly crippled. His wails of grief instantly turned into heart-rending screams of agony.

Retracting the Hemp Vine Whip, Qin Fan glanced at Tanaka Nobuo, who now lay on the ground like a dead dog. He then turned his cold gaze to the raging fire and flicked his hand backward.

WHOOSH—

An invisible force swept through the room. The inferno, which had seemed moments from consuming everything, was instantly suppressed. Three breaths later, only a single, flickering flame remained, seemingly on the verge of dying out.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Qin Fan turned toward the mountain behind the Worship Room and bellowed, "Old Hua! Are you fucking done yet?!"

"Master Qin, I can’t hold on any longer!" As soon as Qin Fan finished shouting, Hua Xiaotian’s desperate cry for help echoed back.

It was true. He couldn’t hold on. Battered and bleeding, he could feel his Martial Arts Cultivation becoming unstable. He was on the verge of breaking through to the Gang Jin realm. This was a critical juncture; the slightest misstep could destroy his life’s work in the Martial Arts, an outcome Hua Xiaotian could not accept.

Hearing Hua Xiaotian’s cry for help, the corners of Qin Fan’s lips curled into a slow smile.

He coiled the Hemp Vine Whip around Tanaka Nobuo and began dragging him toward the mountain.