The Elven Cultivator

Chapter 332 - 305: Another Spirit Body


Chapter 332: Chapter 305: Another Spirit Body

A member of the Slave Hunting Team glanced at his expression and added with a sneer, "See that? Still hoping someone will come and save you? What a pipe dream."

The youth didn’t talk back. He just stared at the Beastman in the center of the camp who had yet to move, his face ashen with despair.

In the center of the fray, the Beastman seemed to have finally grown tired of this one-sided game.

As the metal staff swept toward him again, he raised a hand, caught it mid-shaft, and slammed it downward.

The Ape-man elder wielding the staff felt a force as heavy as a mountain crash down its length. The webbing of his hand split open, the staff was torn from his grasp, and the momentum forced his knees to buckle, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The Beastman pressed his advantage, kicking the elder square in the chest. With a dull THUD, the Ape-man elder was sent flying backward, carving a deep furrow in the earth before grinding to a halt.

Seizing the opening, Aolu attacked from behind, smashing his totem pole down with all his might. It landed squarely on the Beastman’s shoulder.

The blow, powerful enough to crack stone and shatter iron, struck the grayish-brown aura but only produced a barely perceptible ripple. The Beastman didn’t even flinch.

The Beastman glanced back at him, then raised his hand and smashed a fist into Aolu’s chest.

Aolu sprayed a mouthful of blood and was sent flying, landing in the same furrow as the Ape-man elder.

In the blink of an eye, two Golden Peak Warriors had lost their ability to fight.

The Beastman retracted his fist, looked down at the few faint white marks left on his knuckles, and shook his head in dissatisfaction.

"Is this all you’ve got? How boring."

The Beastman looked down condescendingly at Aolu.

"It doesn’t matter if you don’t hand over the totem. Your Clan Leader is already dead, so it must have fallen into your hands."

"Something so important, you must be carrying it with you, right?"

At these words, the pupils of Aolu and the Ape-man elder constricted.

The Beastman had been watching their expressions closely, and his lips curled into a cold, knowing sneer.

"Looks like I guessed right."

"In that case, there’s no need to keep either of you alive."

The Beastman was about to strike as he finished speaking, but in the next moment, his expression suddenly changed, and he abruptly turned his head toward the camp’s entrance.

In the darkness of the night, a Profound Gold Sword Light tore through the void like a bolt of lightning, hurtling toward them.

The instant the Beastman saw the streak of light, it was already upon him.

The Beastman’s expression changed drastically. He let out a sharp roar and frantically channeled his Power of Law.

A dense, grayish-brown light instantly enveloped his entire body, almost solidifying.

The mere sight of it conveyed a sense of indestructibility.

Yet before the Profound Gold Sword Light, the grayish-brown light was like thin paper; it was pierced and shattered in an instant, unable to offer even a moment of resistance.

Before he could even fully channel his Power of Law, the Profound Gold Sword Light had already silently pierced the grayish-brown aura around him.

The Beastman only had time to twist his body slightly. In the next instant, the sword light pierced his shoulder and exited through his back.

Dark red blood spurted from his shoulder, drawing a startling arc in the air.

The Beastman let out a muffled grunt and staggered back half a step.

But he paid his wound no mind. His eyes were fixed on the sword light as it circled back, his vertical pupils suddenly contracting into needle-thin slits.

"Profound Gold Sword Light... Fallen Dragon Sword Saint!"

The instant the last word left his mouth, he shot backward, then transformed into a streak of grayish-brown light and fled into the distance.

He had turned and fled without a backward glance.

Watching this, everyone was dumbfounded.

Before they could react, an ethereal voice suddenly sounded in their ears.

"Since you’ve come, don’t bother leaving."

In the next instant, a mass of murky yellow light surged from the void. It expanded rapidly in mid-air and spread five fingers, transforming into a colossal hand that blotted out the sky.

Its palm lines were like crisscrossing ravines, its knuckles like rolling mountain ranges. As the giant palm passed over the camp, even the wind seemed to stop for a moment.

The Beastman snapped his head up, his gaze meeting the giant palm in mid-air.

He didn’t even have time to make a sound before the palm slammed down.

BOOM!

A deep, muffled boom echoed out, as if an entire mountain had been smashed into the earth.

Billowing smoke and dust churned upward, rolling outward with rubble and dirt. The entire camp trembled for several moments from the strike.

When the smoke and dust dissipated, a deep, palm-shaped crater was left in the ground.

Its edges were as neat as if cut by a giant blade, without the slightest crack.

This showed the attacker’s astonishing level of control over their power.

And in the very center of the crater, only a blurry, dark stain remained. Any semblance of a humanoid form was gone.

The camp was deathly silent.

Everyone stood frozen in place with blank stares, looking at the scene before them in utter disbelief.

’The Legendary Powerhouse who just crushed two Golden Peak experts before our very eyes... was gone, just like that?’

’He was swatted to death by a single palm without even seeing his opponent’s face?’

For a moment, everyone felt their mouths go dry and their minds go blank.

Aolu and the Ape-man elder struggled to their feet. They looked at each other, and both could see the shock in the other’s eyes.

As Golden Peak Warriors who had awakened the Power of Law, they understood better than anyone else just how terrifying the power displayed by the attacker in that brief exchange truly was.

After all, the Beastman had mastered the Power of Stone and Rock, a Law renowned for its formidable defense, yet he had been annihilated without a chance to resist.

This level of power was simply staggering!

’A peak Legend... no... far more terrifying than a peak Legend!’

’The strike of a Saint... would probably be just like this!’

Snapping out of his shock, Aolu suddenly remembered the Beastman’s words before he died. A thought struck him, and he quickly looked around and shouted:

"Lord Anton, thank you for your help."

SHHIIING!

The Profound Gold Sword Light suddenly shot to a position above the camp and stopped abruptly.

The sword light retracted, and a slender figure appeared in everyone’s view.

Anton’s gaze fell on Aolu, and he raised an eyebrow slightly.

’I didn’t expect to meet an acquaintance here.’

The Golden-backed Ape-man before him was the very one from Ranfeng Hall in Darkness Fortress, who had traded a Thunder Prison Pillar for a piece of Magic Equipment that he had personally refined.

’I didn’t expect we’d meet again under these circumstances.’

Anton didn’t reminisce. He just gave Aolu a slight nod, then looked indifferently at the members of the Slave Hunting Team.

The members of the Slave Hunting Team awoke as if from a dream. Terrified out of their wits, they screamed and scattered in all directions.

Even the Legendary Powerhouse was dead. They stood no chance against the person before them.

But before they could escape the camp, a sky full of sword light swept in like a golden storm, passing through the entire camp and instantly piercing their hearts.

Figure after figure fell like harvested wheat.

In front of a knocked-over tent, two Slave Hunting Team members assigned to guard the slaves had collapsed to the ground, paralyzed with fear. Their faces were pale, and they couldn’t even hold their weapons steady.

"Run... Run!"

One of them was the first to snap out of it and scrambled frantically toward the outside of the camp.

However, just as he got up, his body suddenly stiffened.

A bloodstained blade protruded from his chest.

He looked down at the blade and tried to turn his head, but he was pushed hard from behind. He pitched forward, twitched a few times, and then moved no more.

The Half-Elf maiden stood behind him, holding a short knife she had picked up from the ground.

Blood dripped from the blade. The hand holding it was trembling, but she gripped the hilt tightly, refusing to let go.

Her hair was disheveled and her face was stained with dirt, but her eyes were frighteningly bright.

Seeing this, the other man retreated several steps in fear, fumbling to draw the short sword at his waist.

But as soon as his fingers touched the hilt, he found he couldn’t move.

An invisible pressure pressed in from all directions, pinning him in place, rendering him unable to move even a finger.

The Half-Elf maiden quickly noticed his strange state. Without hesitation, she rushed forward, aiming the tip of her knife at his heart.

The Slave Hunting Team member wanted to beg for mercy but found he couldn’t even move his lips. He could only watch helplessly as the blade in the Half-Elf maiden’s hand plunged into his chest.

SHUK! SHUK!

The short knife plunged in, was pulled out, and plunged in again.

She repeated this five or six times.

Only when the Slave Hunting Team member before her was dead beyond a doubt did the Half-Elf maiden release her grip. The short knife fell to the ground. She took two steps back, swayed as if her last ounce of strength had been drained, and collapsed to the ground.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling violently as tears rolled down, splashing onto the dusty ground.

"Father... Mother... I’ve avenged you."

Her voice was hoarse and broken, as if forced from the depths of her very being.

By now, the Slave Hunting Team in the camp was almost wiped out. Only a single Golden Tier Beastman remained, whom Anton had intentionally left for the soon-to-arrive Lucius to deal with.

Meanwhile, the young Ape-man snapped out of the shock of seeing the Half-Elf maiden’s sudden murderous outburst. He struggled to his feet, gave the maiden a complicated look, and then stumbled over to Aolu’s side.

"Father, Elder, are you alright?"

Aolu looked his son up and down. Seeing that although he was injured, he still had the spirit to speak, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"We’re fine." Aolu waved his hand, unable to stop himself from glancing at the Half-Elf maiden.

’I saw it clearly,’ he thought. ’When that member of the Slave Hunting Team was about to counterattack, it was Lord Anton who restrained him, giving the Half-Elf maiden the chance for revenge.’

’I don’t think this was Lord Anton acting out of sheer benevolence or on a whim.’

’There must be something special about this Half-Elf maiden to warrant special attention from a mighty peak Legendary Sword Saint.’

’I just can’t see what’s so special about her, though.’

After venting her emotions with a good cry, the Half-Elf maiden quickly calmed down.

She wiped her face, stood up, and stumbled over to Anton. Her knees buckled, and she knelt heavily before him.

Her forehead hit the ground with a soft thud.

"Thank you, milord. Thank you for letting me avenge my parents!"

Anton gave her a long look and said, "Raise your head."

The Half-Elf maiden straightened up, but her eyes remained lowered, not daring to look directly at Anton.

Despite her wretched appearance, it was still clear that the maiden had a lovely face, skin so fair it was almost translucent, and a faint air of cold detachment about her.

’Just as I thought,’ Anton mused.

’At my current realm, even without using a Magical Treasure, I can roughly determine a person’s aptitude for cultivating the Dao just by using my Divine Sense.’

’And from the moment I first noticed the Half-Elf maiden, I sensed something special about her.’

’An exceptionally outstanding aptitude.’

’A natural-born talent for the Dao.’

’Clearly, another Spirit Body.’

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