Hunting milfs in cultivation world
Chapter 35: Dream 2

Chapter 35: Dream 2

The courtyard had long since fallen into silence, save for the faint howling of spiritual wind still swirling in chaotic ripples around Meng Hao. Blood stained the white stone ground in vivid streaks, the remnants of those who had dared to mock, threaten, and underestimate him.

His robes fluttered faintly in the breeze as he turned his cold gaze toward the two remaining cultivators—Su Mei and Wang Mei—the so-called geniuses of their sects, once proud and untouchable, now trembling before a power they couldn’t defy.

Meng Hao’s voice cut through the silence like a cold knife. "Do you want to say anything else?"

His tone was calm—too calm. It wasn’t the calm of mercy, but the stillness before an execution. That terrible quiet that came when fate had already been decided.

Su Mei’s lips quivered. Her knees were bloodied from kneeling too long under the pressure of his aura, her pride long shattered. But her mouth stayed shut. There was no salvation in words anymore.

Beside her, Wang Mei clenched her fists. Though her body trembled with fear, she bit down on her tongue, forcing the haze of dread from her mind. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she took a shaky breath, then looked up at Meng Hao with defiance in her eyes—defiance born not from courage, but desperation.

"You... you leave us now, and this will end here," she said, voice cracking. "Don’t think you can kill me and walk away unharmed. I am the only daughter of the fifth elder of the Ice Embodiment Palace. You think you’ll get away with this?"

Her tone grew sharper, bolder as she spoke the name of her sect. "My mother... my mother is an elder! A true Nascent Soul Realm cultivator! You may have stepped into Golden Core, but that’s nothing in front of her!"

The name hung in the air like a curse.

A few disciples still watching from the shadows gasped.

The Ice Embodiment Palace was one of the Ten Great Powers of the Northern Continent. Every elder was an existence capable of freezing rivers with a gesture, of shattering mountains with a wave of their sleeves.

To provoke them was to provoke a storm that could devour entire sects.

But Meng Hao didn’t flinch.

Instead, he chuckled.

Not a loud laugh—but a slow, mocking sound. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Wang Mei like she was a child throwing a tantrum.

"So," he said softly, "you want me to let you go... so you can what? Forget all of this? Return to your palace and wait for revenge?"

He took a step forward. The spiritual energy under his feet surged, cracking the stone as if unable to contain his presence.

"You think I’m a child?" he continued. "That I believe in empty promises? That if I let you crawl away, you’ll spend your life in gratitude, rather than hatred?"

Wang Mei’s face paled.

Meng Hao’s eyes narrowed. "It doesn’t matter whether I kill you or not. Either way, your mother will hunt me."

His hand shot forward before she could respond.

In a single instant, faster than her spirit sense could react, his fingers gripped her scalp. She let out a scream—half defiance, half horror—but it was cut short.

With a sickening snap, Meng Hao twisted.

Her body dropped to its knees, lifeless. Her head dangled from his hand, her eyes still wide in disbelief. Blood streamed down, soaking into the cracks of the stone floor.

He turned her face to look into her eyes.

"And when your mother comes," he said coldly, "I’ll either be too strong... or too far for her to reach."

He let her head drop with a thud.

Su Mei screamed in panic and tried to bolt.

But Meng Hao didn’t even look at her.

He simply lifted one hand—and with a soft snap of his fingers, a bolt of invisible spiritual force shot forward. It struck Su Mei mid-run.

Her body froze midstep. Her heart stopped. And she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Dead.

The wind stopped.

The air turned cold—not from spiritual pressure, but from the finality of death that lingered in the courtyard.

Meng Hao stood alone now.

All around him, silence. Shock. Fear.

From afar, hidden behind formation screens, sect elders stared with complicated expressions.

"He killed her..." one elder murmured. "The daughter of the Ice Embodiment Palace’s Fifth Elder..."

"This will bring calamity upon him."

"Or upon us."

"But... look at him," said another. "There is no hesitation. No fear. If he can reach Golden Core so young and walk through blood like this... perhaps he truly is one of those heaven-defying cultivators."

But their whispers could not reach Meng Hao. He turned away, robes flowing behind him, not sparing a second glance for the corpses left in his wake.

Meanwhile — deep in the Ice Embodiment Palace...

At the peak of a mountain wreathed in eternal snow and veiled by ancient formations stood a hall of sapphire crystal.

Inside, Elder Xue Qing, the Fifth Elder of the palace, meditated in a lotus position atop a floating platform. She was a vision of icy beauty, her blue robes fluttering despite no wind. Her long hair cascaded like a waterfall of snow, and her face bore a stillness that could freeze the soul.

She had been there for seven days without moving, refining a rare essence flower that bloomed only once in a century.

And then it happened.

Crack.

A sound echoed from behind her.

Her eyes snapped open.

A token—the spiritual life token of her daughter, Wang Mei—had split in half on the wall behind her. The moment it shattered, a violent gust of wind burst from within her cultivation chamber, reducing furniture and cultivation tools to splinters in an instant.

The room shook. Frost spread along the walls. _{fre.eweb novel\.c om}

Her face twisted, no longer calm.

"HOW DARE YOU?!"

Her voice echoed like a scream from the heavens, sending shockwaves that blew open the chamber doors. Disciples outside stumbled and fell as an overwhelming spiritual pressure blanketed the mountain peak.

In her fury, the peak itself began to freeze. Entire pine trees snapped from the cold. Clouds turned to shards of ice that rained down upon the palace like divine retribution.

One of the other elders arrived in panic. "Elder Xue Qing! What happened?!"

"My daughter..." she hissed. "Someone dares kill my daughter...!"

The temperature dropped further.

Inside her sea of consciousness, her spiritual energy churned like a frozen hurricane. Her cultivation base surged, pushing the limits of the Nascent Soul Realm. Ice lotus petals formed and shattered in midair as her fury spiraled out of control.

"I will find him," she said. "I don’t care where he runs. I don’t care who shelters him. I don’t care what price I must pay."

The elder beside her hesitated. "Who was it?"

"I don’t know yet," she said. "But I will."

And when she found him, the entire continent would tremble.

Meng Hao stood atop the main peak, eyes scanning the horizon.

A new system message blinked in his mind, appearing like a line of gold etched into air:

[You have killed a Foundation Building young mistress]

[+10 charm points]

[Your actions have drawn the attention of a Nascent Soul cultivator. Danger level: High.]

[Hidden Quest Activated: Survive the Coming Storm.]

Meng Hao narrowed his eyes.

"So she’s coming."

He clenched his fists.

"Let her."

A powerful new enemy (Elder Xue Qing)

System progression

As the sky began to clear over the sect, rays of sunlight pierced through the thick mist of death that still clung to the bloodstained courtyard.

Meng Hao stood alone at the edge of the platform, his robes fluttering softly in the breeze. The corpses behind him were already beginning to cool, yet in his eyes, no remorse flickered—only thoughtfulness.

He looked down at his palm.

There was still a faint smear of Wang Mei’s blood on his fingers.

He didn’t wipe it away.

"I gave them a chance," he thought. "I but they rejected it "

..."

Several elders turned to the Grand Elder of Internal Affairs, whose brows were tightly furrowed. "We must report this incident to the Alliance Council," one muttered. "If we’re seen sheltering him after he killed someone from Ice Embodiment Palace..."

The Grand Elder didn’t reply at first. Her gaze remained fixed on Meng Hao’s back.

"This boy," she murmured, "he’s not someone the heavens will allow to die so easily. He has that... quality."

Another elder scowled. "Do you mean luck? Fate?"

"No," the Grand Elder said slowly. "Something deeper. The will to rise, no matter the cost."

Far beyond their sect, in a distant land, an ancient cultivator seated atop a cliff opened one eye.

A flock of spirit crows passed overhead, and as they scattered, the old man chuckled.

"A seed has cracked," he said. "And fire now spills from the shell."

Meng Hao turned his gaze skyward once more. He could feel the threads of fate slowly binding around him.

But unlike others, he didn’t fear it.

He welcomed it.

Let the heavens test him.