Cheat God -
27. Killing Beast
The fight below had turned into a brutal contest of endurance. Screams echoed. Spiritual lights flickered. Bodies collapsed one after another.
Despite the number of cultivators, the mutated dragon-snake wasn’t falling. Instead, it seemed to be feeding off the chaos, its cursed aura thickening with every moment. Its roars were hoarse, guttural, shaking the cracked valley floor.
Up on the slope, Liu Chen watched everything with calm eyes, the Ghost Eye mark faintly glowing beneath his brow, hidden beneath his hood. He could sense it clearly—fear had begun to spread.
Some of the young cultivators were backing away, their spirit energy drained, weapons trembling in hand. Even the Soul Foundation Realm fighters were starting to hesitate. Their strongest techniques had barely scratched the beast, and the cursed energy was wearing them down faster than expected.
They’ll retreat soon, Liu Chen thought. And once they do, this lotus will be forgotten. Wasted.
That couldn’t happen. His eyes turned sharp, and with a faint thought, the Ghost Eye activated. No dramatic light. No obvious sign. Just a ripple across space. Invisible, subtle.
Like a whisper sliding into the minds of the thirty-odd cultivators. And then—
The change began. The hesitant ones suddenly gritted their teeth and charged forward. The tired ones roared louder, their eyes bloodshot. Even the injured cultivators who had just been dragged back tried to get up and rejoin the fight. Their fear turned into fury. Their survival instinct became bloodlust.
The Ghost Eye didn’t control them directly. It amplified what already existed in their minds. The desire to fight, the urge to win, the desperation to prove themselves. It pushed it all higher—until they no longer cared about retreating.
They wanted victory. They wanted blood. Good, Liu Chen thought, his expression still cool. Now keep going. Make it bleed.
Below, the battle reached new intensity. Flame dragons roared through the air. Ice blades shattered on the beast’s scales. A young woman with purple hair slashed with a thunder blade, her scream echoing as she was thrown across the field, crashing into a boulder.
Two male cultivators leapt at the same time from opposite sides, one throwing a fire chain, the other using wind blades to bind the beast’s limbs.
The Wang Dynasty leader clenched his jaw and stepped forward again, drawing on his bloodline force. His aura exploded upward. Red and gold light spiraled around him as he raised his sword high.
“Dragon-Blood Soar!”
A beam of power slammed into the beast’s injured back, reopening the gash from earlier. Dark blood poured from the wound, sizzling as it hit the ground.
But at a price—his body trembled violently, and his sword cracked from the recoil. That was his last move. He staggered back, pale and gasping.
The dragon-snake roared in pain. It flailed madly, knocking aside five cultivators in a single swing of its tail. One was flung like a broken doll and didn’t rise again. Another tried to block but was hit full in the chest. His bones shattered. He collapsed, coughing blood.
Its cursed aura leaked from every pore now. Where its body passed, the grass turned black and soil cracked. It had stopped thinking and was simply killing.
Yet, the young warriors didn’t stop either. Even when faced with death, they kept attacking. They had no plan. No formation. Just madness.
The Ghost Eye pulsed softly in Liu Chen’s soul. He watched with silent interest, learning from the way they moved, calculating weaknesses. The cursed snake is bleeding heavily now… but it still holds too much strength. That tail has crushed at least ten already. The scales haven’t cracked. The cursed breath still works.
And yet, the humans were finally pushing it to the edge. Dozens had already fallen. Most of those still standing were injured, limping, or out of energy.
Only a handful remained truly capable of fighting. Two of the Wang Dynasty’s elites were still up, one clutching his stomach, another holding a half-shattered spear.
The mutated beast was slowing. Its movements lost some of their sharpness. Its tail slammed slower. Its roars came less frequently.
And then— A critical moment.
One of the cultivators jumped in with a heavy strike. A flaming hammer slammed into the beast’s right jaw, knocking its head sideways. The next moment, another cultivator stabbed into its left eye socket with a short blade, and dark blood burst out.
The beast screamed—pure, unfiltered agony. It threw its head back and writhed, rolling through the battlefield, crushing its own wounded flesh against rocks and broken terrain. Its body trembled, breathing ragged. It was still alive… but barely.
Liu Chen rose from his crouch. Now it’s my turn.
The battlefield was nearly empty.
Of the original thirty, only about seven were still standing—and none of them were in good shape. Most were stunned, struggling to breathe, sitting on the ground with dead eyes. They had given everything. Some of them didn’t even seem to know the fight was over.
The pond water was dyed black with blood. But the lotus—still floated. Its golden glow was stronger than before, basking in the chaos like a silent king.
Liu Chen walked forward slowly. No one noticed him. He looked like just another cultivator stepping out from the back. His cloak still wrapped around him, no clan symbol, no arrogant aura. Just calm footsteps.
Liu Chen moved past the unconscious cultivators without a glance. His gaze was fixed on the half-buried dragon-serpent twitching weakly beside the ruined pond. But just before reaching the lotus, he paused beside a young warrior who was still barely breathing, clutching a shattered blade in trembling hands.
He lowered his head slightly.
“You’ve already done your part,” Liu Chen murmured.
Then, without warning, a third eye slowly opened on his forehead—a vertical slit glowing with pale gold and violet light. The Ghost Eye.
A flash. Silent. Absolute.
In that instant, the few remaining conscious cultivators stiffened—then collapsed, their souls shattering like porcelain under divine pressure. They never even knew they had died. Their bodies remained intact, but their spirit had been reduced to nothingness, erased in the blink of an eye.
The pond was silent again.
But the dragon-serpent was still alive. It turned its bloodied head toward Liu Chen, and for the first time… there was fear in its crimson eyes. Ancient, instinctual dread. The Ghost Eye had shown it a glimpse of something far beyond it—a predator of fate.
But Liu Chen had no pity.
“This is the price of guarding what belongs to me.”
Black veins coiled up his glowing golden arm as his God and Demon Leader Body awakened fully. One fist. Calm. Direct.
Boom!
The beast’s skull shattered like brittle stone. Its giant body slumped to the side, unmoving.
Liu Chen exhaled slowly, eyes gleaming.
“So this… is my strength,” he whispered. “Hah… not bad for a main character.”
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