“Who the hell are you?” the members of the Rain Clan roared. With so many onlookers around, they didn’t want to become a laughingstock, treated like monkeys in a circus. The street was packed with people, all wearing mocking expressions. The Rain Clan’s luck had truly run dry—having their gates smashed twice in a row was nothing short of a cosmic joke.
“Enough talk. No matter where you’re from, the crime you’ve committed today demands death!” The voice was nearly hysterical. The Rain Clan had never suffered such humiliation before, yet today, they were being provoked repeatedly.
Shi Hao’s lips curled into a cold smirk. The Rain Clan had always been domineering, but recent setbacks must have left them fuming. He didn’t care about their rage—he had come here for a fight. The more frenzied they became, the calmer he remained, as if detached from the chaos.
“I’m the one who sent you a gift,” Shi Hao said softly.
“What? So it was you who sent back that head?!” someone bellowed in fury. This was blatant provocation—sending a severed head to their doorstep, then barging in himself. Others, however, grew uneasy. This level of confidence meant he was no ordinary foe.
Just then, the street erupted into chaos as the sound of thundering hooves approached. The Rain Clan’s forces, dispatched earlier to surround the Tiger Gate Inn, were now charging back through the crowded streets.
“Where’s Yu Mu?” a powerful figure demanded before the shattered gatehouse.
“Lord Yu Mu… fell in battle,” one of the riders choked out, his voice trembling. Their leader and the others had all been slain, and now they had to report the grim truth.
“Useless!” a Rain Clan elder spat. A whole contingent sent to hunt down one man, only to lose a key figure and have the enemy strike first. In truth, some riders had tried to race back to warn the clan, but Shi Hao had intercepted and eliminated them on the road. Their failure to return before him left the Rain Clan’s faces twisted in fury.
Spectators from other major clans had gathered, and their laughter and murmurs filled the air.
“Is the Rain Clan truly so weak now? First, the Great Demonic God crushed them, and now a mere boy is humiliating them. What face do they even have left?”
“Indeed. Even if they kill him now, their reputation is already in tatters. To be invaded like this—they might as well have never built that grand gatehouse!”
The Rain Clan’s expressions darkened further. Some were fanning the flames, others reveling in their misfortune—each word a fresh insult.
“Kill him! No matter who he is or where he’s from, annihilate him today!” An elder stepped forward, signaling the attack. There was no more room for words—only swift execution would prevent the entire capital from laughing at their disgrace.
Four warriors stepped forth, battle-hardened veterans recently returned to the clan. They surrounded Shi Hao, sealing off all escape. One of them produced a sack and roared, “Die!”
A tempest erupted, howling winds whipping up sand and stones. The entire street trembled, roof tiles soaring into the sky. The pressure on Shi Hao was immense—what kind of artifact was this? Just opening it summoned a hurricane, with razor-sharp blades of light slicing through the air.
*Clang!* Shi Hao struck back, shattering the glowing blades with his bare hands. But the winds only intensified, threatening to uproot him. Another warrior pulled out a drum, its thunderous beats unleashing bolts of lightning. The remaining two summoned rolling storm clouds, drenching Shi Hao in a downpour.
Together, the four had altered the very weather—a testament to the Rain Clan’s mastery. The wind and rain were no ordinary elements but constructs of runes, relentless and invasive. The lightning was real, not illusion.
Shi Hao’s body blazed with light as he endured the assault. Any lesser cultivator would have been torn apart. But he stood firm—and retaliated.
A divine aperture opened above him, and from it emerged a colossal purple *Lion-Dragon*, its golden stripes shimmering. With a deafening roar, it unleashed a storm of spherical lightning, turning the battlefield into a cataclysm. The bolts spread through the rain, crackling and exploding in blinding flashes.
“Ah—!” The warrior wielding the wind sack was the first to fall, convulsing as lightning struck him. Without his control, the gales weakened.
The *Lion-Dragon* roared again, spewing forth a tidal wave of violet thunder. The four Rain Clan warriors were engulfed, their bodies writhing under the electric onslaught. One, the drummer, detonated into a bloody mist.
In mere moments, all four lay defeated—crushed by a single youth. The crowd was stunned.
“That purple *Lion-Dragon*… could it be…?” A few Rain Clan members paled, recalling a certain infamous “holy terror.”
Was it really *him*? Their blood boiled with fury.
As the *Lion-Dragon* vanished back into the aperture, the storm dissipated, leaving only clear skies.
“Rain Clan, you’re pathetic,” Shi Hao taunted.
Nothing stung the Rain Clan more than such mockery. Humiliation after humiliation had left them seething.
“Kill!” A burly warrior bellowed, hurling a net woven from flood dragon tendons. It streaked like lightning, impossible to evade.
Shi Hao dodged, but the net pursued relentlessly, ensnaring him.
“The Immortal-Binding Net!” Gasps arose from the crowd. The Rain Clan had crafted such a treasure? Once cast, it never stopped until it captured its prey.
Shi Hao strained against the strands, but the net’s runes flared, biting into his flesh as it sought to refine him into nothingness.
“Finish him now!” the Rain Clan roared, charging in unison.
“Break!” Shi Hao’s body erupted in flames. With a thunderous snap, the net shattered. He unleashed a barrage of strikes, sending attackers flying.
“Stop gawking! Slay him!” an elder thundered.
Every warrior and rider surged forward, their runes converging into a deadly storm.
Shi Hao’s response was swift. He summoned the sword formation he had acquired earlier—eight blades rising like tidal waves, their icy edges radiating killing intent.
*Thud!* The lead rider was split clean in half, man and beast alike.
*Slice!* A second blade decapitated another warrior, his headless corpse collapsing.
The swords danced with terrifying precision, each strike deadlier than the last. Heads rolled, beasts wailed, and soon, the Rain Clan’s gate was littered with corpses.
The street fell silent in horror. This was a massacre—perpetrated by a lone boy.
Shi Hao strode forward, his presence sending the Rain Clan stumbling back in terror, as if facing a demon king.
“Formation!” an elder barked.
Banners unfurled, their sigils glowing as they expanded into towering pillars shrouded in mist and thunder.
But Shi Hao was ready. Merged with his Indestructible Golden Body, his form radiated dark light. With a single palm strike, he shattered the formation, reducing the banners to splinters as he stormed into the estate.
“Nowhere to run! Seize him!” Several elders appeared, one hurling a pagoda into the air. It expanded, swallowing Shi Hao whole before glowing with refining flames.
“Good! Burn him to ashes!”
Yet moments later, the pagoda trembled violently—then exploded. Shrapnel tore through Rain Clan members, leaving them screaming.
Shi Hao emerged unscathed, wreathed in dark energy like a demonic god. He advanced, crushing all resistance. Buildings crumbled under his strikes, reducing grand halls to rubble.
“Rain Manor is being dismantled *again*!”
“First the Great Demonic God, now this boy. How far the mighty have fallen!”
The jeers from outside stung like salt in a wound.
Standing atop the ruins, Shi Hao surveyed the devastation before pressing onward, leveling palaces with each step—each collapse a slap to the Rain Clan’s pride.
“Who *are* you?!” someone shrieked.
Shi Hao halted, facing the Rain Clan with icy detachment—and revealed his true face.
“It’s *you*!” they screamed in unison.
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