Qingyi crouched in front of the demonic cultist.
His beautiful purple eyes were cold as he watched him struggle desperately.
The damage to the man's body had been catastrophic. More than half of his bones were broken, his legs reduced to a mess, and his mouth was filled with blood.
Of course, that was far from enough to kill a True Immortal. But still, the pain was absurd.
"You're going to have to answer me a lot of questions..." Qingyi said.
He opened the system store and bought one of the highest quality healing pills available.
The cultist tried to resist, but Qingyi didn't care. He forced the man to open his mouth and shoved the pill down his throat.
"Ugh... son of a bitch..."
The cultist's words were cut off before they were even finished. A punch tore through the air at an absurd speed, broke his jaw, and sent him to the ground, just in time for the pill to take effect.
Even without actively circulating energy through the body, it was still a high-quality pill. On its own, it was almost enough to revive the dead.
Immediately, the cultist's wounds began to heal. A last gulp of blood left his lips as his broken jaw snapped back into place, his bones cracking painfully.
Even though he was a True Immortal thousands of years old, he couldn't stop the groans of agony, his red eyes widening.
That damn thing healed too fast without him being able to control it!
"Ah... uff... uff..." The cultist gasped heavily, trying to get up.
He crossed his knees, pushed himself up, and then fell to the ground.
He was exhausted.
"You know..." The cultist flashed a bloody smile, raising his hands. "We have a lot of assholes like you among us. I thought we could even be good friends... why don't we talk more amicably? A talented young man like you must be very ambitious, I can help you reach a level never seen before."
Qingyi did not respond.
He knew well how unorthodox cultivators operated.
There were those who were unorthodox by the nature of their cultivation. And there were those who, in addition to the nature of their cultivation, had rot in their souls.
They were snakes. No, worse than snakes.
They hid among orthodox cultivators like cockroaches; they lied and they manipulated.
He was sure that this cultist had maintained the identity of a pure and honorable noble for centuries, using it for the most terrible acts.
Qingyi was not a good person and would never convince himself otherwise. Still, compared to those corrupt pigs, he was an angel incarnate.
"You have a mana heart and a Dantian too. How is that possible?" Qingyi questioned, eliciting a laugh of contempt from the cultist.
"Ask my..."
The cultist's words were interrupted again.
But this time, it wasn't by a punch.
Qingyi pressed a single finger against one of the cultist's newly healed feet, moving his demonic Qi.
"ARGH! DAMN IT! Y-you... UGHN..."
The cultist writhed. His lips opened in a guttural scream that spread throughout the forest, stirring it for a brief moment.
The pain was horrible. The smell of burning flesh was accompanied by whitish smoke as Qingyi's lightning Qi destroyed everything it touched.
Blood spurted onto the handsome young man's face, but he didn't care.
"Do I need to repeat the question?"
Qingyi's lips lifted slightly. Blood slid down his cheeks, and his eyes were filled with a strange cold gentleness.
He didn't even seem to recognize that he was in the midst of torture, and this only terrified the cultist even more.
Unfortunately for the prisoner, he had taken too long to answer.
Qingyi's fingers flowed to the other foot, and then came the pain.
The terrible smell of burning flesh, smoke, and blood. Everything again, with the same intensity as before.
"I can make this much slower than it needs to be," Qingyi murmured, looking at the cultist, whose face was already drenched in tears.
It was... pathetic.
A being whose power rivaled that of a True Immortal, bearer of a mana heart and a Dantian, being reduced to tears so easily.
Qingyi still remembered many years ago, when he tortured the King of the Heavenly Thunder Kingdom, who had tried to take Ruxue from him.
Even that Golden Core Realm cultivator endured the same torture with much more dignity than this cultist. And that king was barely a fraction of what this man was.
Qingyi moved his hand toward the cultist's knee, who trembled.
"W-wait! I-I really can't talk! If I talk, the heartworm in my chest will kill me immediately!"
He hoped that the excuse would work, that Qingyi would at least give him a quick death.
Unfortunately, he didn't know Qingyi.
The handsome young man placed his hand on the cultist's chest and used his spatial Qi.
In the next moment, the space between his fingers distorted. The cultist's eyes filled with shock as he felt a weight lift from his heart, while at the same time a small red worm appeared in Qingyi's hands.
"Go ahead. Start talking." Qingyi crushed the worm.
The cultist gulped. His lips parted, but no words came out.
Only after a moment of hesitation did he finally begin:
"In the far west, there is a Dark Master, a powerful Qi user... He was the one who initiated me. He helped me become a noble and gave me a Dantian! I don't know how the procedure works, I swear! I-I just fell asleep, and when I woke up, my body had completely changed."
"Hm..." Qingyi scratched his chin.
A Dark Master in the far west, with a connection to mana and Qi.
"Why did you attack me?" he asked.
He needed to know if the attack had occurred because he had already been recognized as one of the Five Heroes.
If that was the case, things could get a little dangerous.
"D-debt... t-to pay off a debt! The master ordered us to capture as many people as possible for a great sacrifice!"
"Hm..." Qingyi exhaled thoughtfully.
"P-please... no more, that's all I know... I-I'm telling the truth," the cultist whimpered.
"I know you are."
Qingyi smiled. With a gentle movement of his hand, the cultist's head flew through the air.
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