The dark red vines seemed to have been infected by Meng Hao's fury. They whipped about wildly, creating a buzzing noise. Dust rose from the ground like a fog, obscuring Meng Hao's figure.

His black scholar's robe now looked a bit faded. Long hair whipped around him, and killing intent, fueled by his intense anger, rose to the heavens. This killing aura was poles apart from Meng Hao's usual disposition.

Veins of blood filled his eyes. He saw Xu Qing's helplessness, her bitterness, her pale beauty, and then the simple smile that broke out on her face. That smile became Meng Hao's everything.

Meng Hao loved her. It was the youthful love that comes from looking at a pretty girl. A simple love. After the dissolution of the Reliance Sect, they had been separated by an entire world. Now that they could see each other again, the years that had passed didn't seem very long after all, almost like a dream.

Seven or eight years ago, you were a cold, a young girl who stood beneath the moon and accepted the Cosmetic Cultivation Pill. Now, seven or eight years later, here you are, your face pale, but smiling.

Seven or eight years ago I was a scholar standing on Mount Daqing who threw a gourd bottle down the mountain. You will never know the promise I placed in that gourd bottle.

Seven or eight years later, here I stand, my killing intent billowing to the Heavens. The road behind me doesn't stretch very far, but it is filled with the bones of Cultivators.

Seven or eight years….

For mortals, many things can change in seven or eight years. For Cultivators, seven or eight years is not a long time; but then again, Cultivators all begin life as mortals. Meng Hao was no longer the scholar he had been seven or eight years ago, but the memories from that time still remained. He would never forget those years.

He gazed at Xu Qing and smiled. His smile contained warmth, and the happiness of seeing someone again for the first time in a long while. It lasted until he looked upon the trembling man surnamed Zhao who stood there pale-faced, his robe hanging loose on his body.

Zhao Shanhe felt as if Meng Hao's eyes were two sharp swords stabbing into his own eyes. The gaze entered his head, causing his mind to tremble. It pierced his blood and flesh, grinding against his bones and stabbing into his Qi passageways. It stabbed all the way to his Dao Pillar.

His Dao Pillar was filled with cracks; he obviously had a Fractured Foundation. The Dao Pillar shook violently, as if Meng Hao's gaze would cause it to crumble to pieces. Zhao Shanhe was frightened out of his mind.

"Fellow… Fellow Daoist, senior, I'm Zhao Shanhe, a Conclave disciple of the Black Sieve Sect. Fellow Daoist…." His tongue quivered as he spoke. He might be a rich kid, but he wasn't stupid. The pink shield from just now was a treasure that could only be broken by the late Foundation Establishment stage. And yet Meng Hao, who seemed to be at the early Foundation Establishment stage, had crushed it.

He also saw Meng Hao's frigid killing aura. It was powerfully intense, something that he had never actually seen before in his entire life.

"You're surnamed Zhao?" Meng Hao said coolly, beginning to a step forward. "I just killed another guy surnamed Zhao. His name was Zhao Binwu." Meng Hao had acquired Zhao Binwu's name from the identification medallion in his bag of holding.

As he took his first step, it felt to Zhao Shanhe as if Meng Hao was stepping directly onto his heart. His heart pounded, filling with a difficult to describe pain, deep inside.

It was then that Meng Hao's words from just now registered in Zhao Shanhe's mind. A thunder-like roaring filled him, and his body shivered. He unconsciously took a step backward. Meng Hao's gaze swept over him, filled with an incredible pressure. Zhao Shanhe's mind reeled again, and his trembling body lost the ability to move. Facing Meng Hao, his Cultivation base seemed completely incapable of producing even the smallest amount of power.

This was crushing pressure!

Meng Hao released the full power of his Perfect Dao Pillar, creating a pressure that could crush down upon any Foundation Establishment Dao Pillar!

This was an innate ability of a Perfect Foundation. Because the Perfect Foundation struggles with the Heavens over spiritual energy, it has the ability to emit crushing pressure on all other Foundation Establishment Cultivation bases!

Amidst his trembling, Zhao Shanhe's expression flickered. Meng Hao took a second step, and as the step descended, Zhao Shanhe's face grew deathly pale. Blood oozed out of his mouth, and an intense dread crept into his eyes.

"Fellow Daoist… if… if you want to talk…." His entire body shook, but even as he tried to speak, Meng Hao took a third step. He stomped down; Zhao Shanhe's spirit shook and he coughed up a mouthful of blood. The Dao Pillar within him was unable to withstand the pressure exuded by Meng Hao. A large fissure sliced all the way through it!

More fissures grew, spreading out to fill the entire Dao Pillar. The blood drained completely from Zhao Shanhe's face, and his eyes filled with anguish. Trembling, he was just about to use all the power he could muster to fight back, when Meng Hao, face blank, took his fourth step, which was filled with powerful killing intent.

The instant the fourth step descended, the roaring within Zhao Shanhe rose to the Heavens. His heart suddenly stopped beating for a moment. All of his organs seemed to slow as the cracks spread throughout his Dao Pillar until suddenly… it disintegrated!!

The Dao Pillar disintegrated!

When that happened, Zhao Shanhe let out a bloodcurdling shriek that was unlike anything that had emerged from his mouth before. He coughed up seven or eight mouthfuls of blood, and then began to wither and shrink. Cold sweat poured out of him, and his face was ashen. His body could suddenly move again, but all that he was able to do was retreat backward.

Before he could move backward very far, Meng Hao took a fifth step, and now he was standing in front of Zhao Shanhe. His knee flew up, not toward Zhao Shanhe's neck, but directly between his legs!

Pop pop!

The intense pain caused Zhao Shanhe to double over, screaming. Even as he screamed, Meng Hao's right hand shot up and clamped onto his neck. The scream now existed only within Zhao Shanhe's throat, with no way to emerge out.

He could only whimper as his face began to turn a dark purple color. Unable to speak, unable to scream, the pain seemed to grow ten times worse.

His eyes bulged, filled with insanity, and his body twitched. He suddenly wanted to fight back.

But… he couldn't resist. He was powerless to even struggle, unable to even utter threats. His body shook, filled with pain. He was like a mortal, his Dao Pillar destroyed, his Cultivation base in ruins.

"Stop!" cried a trembling voice. It was Xue Yuncui, who was still next to Xu Qing. Her body shook and her face was pale. But she still held the sword at Xu Qing's neck, seemingly ready to stab it in at any moment.

To her, Meng Hao appeared to be some sort of devilish fiend, cruel and ruthless. It caused the blood to drain from her face, and she didn't dare to even look him in the eye. Regret welled up from within her heart, but it was too late. She could only beg for him to let her go.

"You're Meng Hao, right? I've heard Xu Qing talk about you and the Reliance Sect…. This is all just a misunderstanding. I just want to leave…." Her voice trembled as she looked toward Meng Hao. Even though she held a sword, she was actually the frightened one.

"I used to be a scholar," he said coolly. He continued to hold Zhao Shanhe up by the neck, but turned to look at Xue Yuncui. His voice was soft as he continued, "Once I read an ancient text that was said to be from the Great Tang in the Eastern Lands. It described thousands of bizarre execution methods. There was one that, after I read about it, caused me to have nightmares for days." Eyes filled with loathing, he reached up with his left hand and grabbed one of Zhao Shanhe's fingers. One by one, he crushed the bones of the fingers of both hands. Then his arms. Then his shoulders. Then the rest of his body.

Zhao Shanhe wanted to pass out from the intense pain, but couldn't, not with Meng Hao there. Time passed for as long as it takes an incense stick to burn. Finally, Meng Hao twisted his right hand. A popping sound rang out as Zhao Shanhe's neck was snapped.

The entire time, he was unable to utter a single cry. Such was his death….

Meng Hao dropped Zhao Shanhe's body and then looked at Xue Yuncui. "How do you want to die? I'll let you decide."

Her face was completely pale, like a corpse's. Her body trembled, as did the sword she held in her hand. She looked at Meng Hao, and dread welled up within her. This was like the worst nightmare she had ever experienced.

"You… Don't you force me!!" she cried. Even as the words left her mouth, the ground beneath her feet exploded up. A dark red vine snaked out, wrapping around her body and sending the sword spinning into the air. Meng Hao flicked a sleeve to knock it twenty-five or so meters away. The vines circulated around Xue Yuncui, their mouths wide and seemingly dripping with saliva, just waiting for Meng Hao's command, whereupon they would consume her.

"Don't kill her…" said Xu Qing quietly, struggling to her feet. She looked at Meng Hao. "I want to do it myself. I've been wanting to cut her tongue out for years." Gritting her teeth, she retrieved Xue Yuncui's sword. The vines lowered Xue Yuncui toward her.

"Junior Sister Xu… I…." She faced Xu Qing, trembling, an imploring look on her face.

Xu Qing, her face cold, lifted the sword and stabbed it slowly into her mouth. Xue Yuncui's screams echoed out.

Xu Qing leaned forward and whispered into her ear: "You can't fight back, so just close your eyes and enjoy it. I've always wanted to tell you, you are the slut!" She twisted the sword in her hand. After the space of about ten breaths, Xue Yuncui stopped struggling. Xu Qing stabbed the sword in even deeper.