Hunting milfs in cultivation world
Chapter 33: Breaking Neck

Chapter 33: Breaking Neck

The gentle rustle of leaves overhead belied the tension that now thickened the air like a storm on the horizon.

Wang Mei’s cold eyes remained locked on Meng Hao, her robes billowing lightly in the breeze as spiritual energy hummed faintly around her. Her patience had clearly reached its end. Raising a slender hand, she gave her command in a tone as icy as the sect she hailed from.

"Take him."

The seven green-robed disciples didn’t hesitate. At her word, they moved as one, stepping forward with a mix of eagerness and twisted amusement dancing in their eyes. To them, Meng Hao was nothing more than a captured prey, a little toy who hadn’t yet realized his place.

One among them, a girl with a seductive glint in her eyes and long jade hair, stepped ahead of the others. Her gaze swept over Meng Hao with a mixture of pity and lust. She smiled, licking her lips slowly as if savoring a taste she had yet to experience.

"Heheh... Boy, don’t blame us for being rude," she purred mockingly. "Senior Sisters Wang Mei and Su Mei already gave you a chance to be smart, but you chose ignorance over submission. Such a shame."

She walked slowly toward him, each step deliberate, her voice teasing. "Be a good boy. You still have one last chance. Come with me, and maybe we’ll treat you nicely."

Meng Hao remained motionless, his expression calm—unbothered, almost disinterested. His eyes half-lidded, as if her words weren’t even worth acknowledging. He didn’t speak, didn’t raise his hand, didn’t shift his posture.

To those watching, it appeared he was frozen with fear.

The green-robed disciple’s smile widened, mistaking his silence for helplessness. "Hmph, so arrogant for someone so weak," she sneered. "Let me teach you what real power looks like."

And with that, she surged forward.

Wind whipped past her robes as she accelerated, spirit energy gathering around her palm. Her footsteps barely touched the ground as she dashed toward him, a smirk curling her lips. In her mind, it was already over.

He’s not even reacting, she scoffed internally. So slow. He must be even weaker than I thought. He’s nothing more than a bug showing off in front of a tiger.

But just as her hand reached forward—mere centimeters from grabbing the front of his robes—Meng Hao moved.

In a single, fluid motion, his hand shot up like lightning. Before she could blink, his fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. Her eyes widened in absolute disbelief.

W-What!?

There had been no build-up. No warning. One moment, she was lunging. The next, she was dangling helplessly in the air, Meng Hao’s fingers like iron around her neck. _{f\r(e)ewe.b no\vel.com}

The disciple’s legs kicked instinctively, her arms flailing. Her spiritual energy scattered chaotically, disrupted by the shock of being completely overpowered in an instant.

How... how can this be!? she thought in terror, her vision swimming. Wasn’t he struggling to even sense my speed? How can he be this fast? This strong?

Meng Hao’s expression didn’t change. His eyes were cold, void of sympathy.

His grip tightened.

The girl’s hands clawed at his wrist, gasping, "L-Leave... m—me..."

But her plea was cut short.

With a sharp crack, Meng Hao twisted his hand, snapping her neck like dry wood.

Her body went limp instantly.

The other disciples gasped, horror blooming in their eyes as the lifeless form of their junior sister was tossed unceremoniously through the air. She landed with a thud at Wang Mei’s feet, her head twisted at an unnatural angle, her eyes still wide with shock.

Dust settled as silence fell.

Wang Mei’s face darkened like a thundercloud. Her previously amused expression was now twisted in disbelief and restrained fury.

Meng Hao, meanwhile, dusted off his hands casually. Then, he looked up with the faintest of smiles on his lips—a calm, almost mocking smile.

"So... what were you saying, Fellow Daoist?" he asked lightly, tilting his head slightly as if trying to remember. "I’m terribly sorry. I seem to have forgotten. Would you mind repeating yourself?"

The wind blew gently between them, rustling leaves and tugging at robes, but none spoke. The mood had changed entirely.

The green-robed disciples, who moments ago had laughed with confidence, now looked pale, their legs trembling. The man they had assumed was prey had just effortlessly executed one of their own in front of them—without breaking a sweat.

Wang Mei’s fingers twitched at her side, her eyes filled with a new mixture of caution and rage.

She wasn’t just angry that he’d killed her junior sister. No—what unsettled her more was how he’d done it.

No hesitation.

No flurry of techniques.

Just pure, overwhelming strength.

And worse—he had done it in complete defiance of their sect’s symbol. The mark of Jade Ice Palace adorned every robe in this clearing, and Meng Hao hadn’t even spared it a glance.

He doesn’t fear us... at all.

Her brows furrowed. Su Mei beside her stepped forward slightly, wariness flickering in her eyes now.

Wang Mei clenched her jaw, then spoke in a low, cold voice, "You dare kill a disciple of the Jade Ice Palace? Are you not afraid of our retaliation?"

Meng Hao’s eyes glinted with dangerous amusement.

"I’m afraid," he said softly, "of wasting my time."

And with that, the pressure from his cultivation began to stir.

Golden Core.

It wasn’t merely a realm. It was a gulf. A divide between those who played at cultivation... and those who commanded the world.