Viciously green poison mist rolled up from the ravine like the breath of a sleeping beast.
The cultivator sprinting toward it did not slow down.
Behind him, the air whistled.
A variety of attacks tore through the forest; Sheets of flame incinerated trees, sword light carved ravines through the ground, and a thunderous palm strike flattened an entire hill. Birds burst from the canopy in terrified flocks, only to be shredded midair by stray qi.
"DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE!"
The shout came from a man in crimson robes with his cultivation aura surging like a blood-soaked sun. Around him were eight other experts with condensed, murderous, and utterly unrestrained qi.
And yet, the man they were chasing was laughing.
He leapt over roots, slid beneath falling trees, and skipped across broken terrain like he was on a leisurely jog. His long hair fluttered behind him. His robes were torn and stained, but his expression was infuriatingly relaxed.
"Really now," he said while glancing back, "nine of you? For little old me? I'm flattered."
"SHUT UP!"
A blade of light flashed past his cheek, close enough to slice a strand of hair. He clicked his tongue.
"Careful. This face is insured."
The wide, rough and steep ravine was much closer now. Its depths churned with poisonous fog so dense it warped the air itself. Even Spirit Lords avoided this place. One misstep and your meridians would rot before you hit the bottom.
The cultivator skidded to a stop at the edge.
The group surrounded him instantly, sealing the space with formation flags and overlapping auras. The air trembled due to the pressure.
He raised his hands slowly.
"Oh?" he said. "We're stopping? I was hoping for a few more minutes. My legs were just getting warmed up."
A broad-shouldered man stepped forward with a dignified bearing. His robes were embroidered with the sigil of the Azure Heaven Sect. His eyes were bloodshot with rage.
"Enough," he snarled. "You won't escape this time."
The man at the ravine's edge tilted his head. "You've said that before."
The sect elder's face contorted in fury. "Do you know why we are hunting you?"
The cultivator grinned. "Statistically? Could be any number of reasons."
The elder roared and slammed his staff into the ground. "YOU DEFILED THE SECT MASTER'S WIFE!"
"Ah."
"That."
The cultivator's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ohhh. Her."
Silence fell.
Every cultivator present felt something in their soul twitch like an instinctive sense that this conversation was going somewhere deeply unpleasant.
The elder's voice trembled. "Answer me. Why?"
The man looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment. Then he shrugged.
"She was warm," he said. "And very welcoming."
The air froze.
"And so," he added, smiling lazily, "I redesigned her insides..."
The world exploded.
A dozen killing techniques descended at once.
Boom! Bam! Bang!
The entire vicinity trembled due to the numerous attacks unleashed upon the cultivator.
There was no scream or any last words.
The cultivator at the ravine's edge was erased. His entire body was pulverized, soul scattered, existence wiped so clean it left a crater smoking at the edge of the poison fog.
The forest was silent.
One of the younger cultivators swallowed. "E-Elder… is he dead?"
The elder stared at the crater with his chest heaving.
"…Yes," he said slowly. "He is dead."
A voice came from behind them.
"Oof. That looked like it hurt."
Every single cultivator spun around.
There he stood.
Same face. Same robes. Same infuriating smile.
He leaned against a tree with his arms crossed. "You know, I really liked that body. Took me three days to sculpt the jawline."
The formation shattered in panic.
"CLONE!"
They attacked instantly.
He ran.
Laughing.
"Oh come on," he called over his shoulder while darting through the trees. "You didn't really think I'd bring the original to a marital dispute, did you?"
They killed him again.
And again.
And again.
Ten times.
Each death was convincing—blood, bones, qi signatures extinguished completely. Each time, another appeared. Sometimes mocking. Sometimes applauding. Once, even bowing.
By the eleventh, the laughter had stopped.
The forest was destroyed. The ravine was sealed. The cultivators were exhausted, wounded, and shaking.
The elder wiped blood from his mouth.
"…Enough," he said hoarsely. "We've killed more than ten. Even if he had clones… there is a limit."
There had to be.
They returned to the Azure Heaven Sect in grim silence, convincing themselves that no one... no matter how monstrous... could survive that.
That night, the sect was quiet.
The sect master returned late.
He dismissed his guards with a weary expression and fury still simmering beneath the surface. He had lost face today, utterly and someone would pay for it.
As he approached his private courtyard, he slowed.
A sound drifted through the door.
A soft rhythmic of flesh slapping against flesh.
Amidst the flesh slapping sounds, a trembling feminine voice could be heard... it sounded familiar.
His blood ran cold.
He recognized that voice.
The sect master's hands shook as he pushed the door open.
The scene inside burned itself into his soul.
On his bed... was the same man who had been completely destroyed today.
The man looked up, completely unbothered.
Still handsome. Still infuriating.
Still alive.
A beautiful woman with long yellow hair was beneath him. She had eyes as sparkling as pearls and body as smooth as butter with an incredibly clear skin that defied comprehension.
Originally, someone like this would radiate with divinity that made her seem impossible to soil or defy but at this moment, she was utterly in shambles.
She let out uncontrollable dirty moans with her body jerking back and forth as her beautiful hair scattered in place.
This was none other than the sect master's wife.
"Ugh... Linnnnn... don't st-op... yess..." she was completely lost in sensation with her eyeballs nearly rolled to the back of her head.
The cultivator smiled brightly while thrusting his hips back and forth. "Ah. You're home early."
The sect master's vision went white.
"You—" His heart seized.
Qi surged chaotically through his meridians as he watched his wife getting plowed like a common street where... she even displayed expressions that he had never seen in their many years of marriage.
The man engaged in the deed, tilted his head. "Oh dear. That doesn't look healthy."
The sect master suddenly collapsed with foam spilling from his mouth.
His body convulsed.
The last thing he heard before darkness took him was laughter.