More and more Mighty Roar Cultists flooded the area—frenzied, charging forward…
then falling dead.
With a mere flick of Zhang Luan’s wrist, Stellar Flame erased every cultist monster without a trace.
Their post-death EXP yield far surpassed goblins’. Grinding monsters was tedious, yet Zhang Luan remained patiently focused.
The rewards were clear: his EXP climbed rapidly, his mastery over Stellar Flame deepened. Now, he could even shape the flames into a dancing human figure with ease.
Truth be told, the sleazy man in black robes was growing uneasy.
Watching Zhang Luan handle the chaos with effortless calm, he’d already plotted his escape. Fighting? Impossible. Fleeing? Still a chance.
Though this youth seemed low-level, such a terrifying psychic ability demanded immediate report to the elders of the Mighty Roar Cathedral—eliminate this threat before it spiraled.
He hurled the converging cultists forward, took two slow steps back, then dissolved into smoke, vanishing toward the forest edge—the frontline where Cathedral elders clashed with Akamana Temple forces.
Zhang Luan noticed but let him go. Waves of cultists kept surging, leaving him no choice but to keep purging them.
Nan Fenghua clasped her hands silently in prayer.
These cultists were once ordinary humans, twisted by brainwashing. Death, perhaps, was their salvation.
At the forest perimeter, magical barrages shook the earth as Qi-based warriors clashed.
Cautiously navigating toward Cathedral lines, the sleazy man knew: though elite, he was mere cannon fodder here.
“Hmph? You’re back? Was that signal flare yours? Where’s the Holy Maiden?! Don’t tell me you failed to find a little girl?”
Before he could speak, the white-haired elder launched into a scolding tirade. The man forced a nervous smile.
“We found the Holy Maiden… it’s just—"
“Just *what*? Stop hesitating! Is that how a Cathedral disciple acts?”
The elder snorted, palms snapping shut—a tendril of black smoke pierced an Akamana warrior’s chest.
Trembling, the man apologized meekly and recounted everything about Zhang Luan. At the mention of Stellar Flame’s power, the elder’s pupils tightened; greed flickered across his face.
“So such a flame exists? Good. Once he’s dead, I’ll transplant his flesh onto myself—my strength will soar! You did well. Lead the way. Back at the Cathedral, I’ll secure you an advanced modification.”
Wiping cold sweat, the man flattered softly:
“With Elder’s might, they’re as good as caught. That boy and the Holy Maiden won’t escape.”
Meanwhile, Zhang Luan loosed an arrow—pinning the last cultist to a tree. The creature thrashed, roaring, but Stellar Flame consumed it into nothingness.
“Is it over?”
Nan Fenghua gazed at the grim scene, sorrow in her eyes. These were once common folk, twisted by lies. Purified by flame… this was mercy.
Zhang Luan didn’t submit the quest. He sat quietly on a shattered tree stump, bow drawn, eyes fixed on the direction the sleazy man fled.
“They’re here.”
A white-bearded elder materialized in thunderous speed, trailing whirlwinds of pitch-black energy.
Nan Fenghua shrank behind Zhang Luan, trembling. She knew him—the very man her governess used to frighten her with as a child.
Zhang Luan released the string. Spiraling arrows wreathed in Stellar Flame shot straight for the elder’s head.
“Heh, impatient brat,” the elder chuckled. “Solid force. And this flame… scorching indeed! Hahahaha!”
Black gas erupted from his palms. In a blur, he snatched the spinning arrows midair.
The Stellar Flame struggled to ignite—but the black smoke smothered it, draining its energy until it vanished.
Zhang Luan recognized him instantly. Data flashed before his eyes:
[Elder Yinav of the Mighty Roar Cathedral]
Level: 30
Class: Psychic
Race: Modified Human
Primary Attribute: Intelligence (1080)
HP: 55,000
Psychic Power: 3,000
Occupation: Psychic
Talent: [Assimilated Flesh Devouring]
Abilities: [Scorching Black Smoke], [Speed Arm], [Storm]
—
Stats alone dwarfed the Goblin Champion. As a Psychic, each ability was deadlier than the last. Zhang Luan had fought him before in another life.
[Scorching Black Smoke]: Controls searing black smoke. Inflicts suppression, burn, dizziness. Attacks may lower defense by 1% (stacks to 30).
[Speed Arm]: Blinding arm speed. Grabs, smashes, tears. Can intercept enemy attacks.
[Storm]: Summons wide-area storm. Combines with other abilities for enhanced effects.
Together, they formed an almost unbreakable combat wall.
Zhang Luan recalled it all: Speed Arm caught every ranged strike; black smoke suppressed assaults; too many foes triggered Storm—trapping all in sustained damage.
No one at this stage could solo him.
Zhang Luan hadn’t even hit Level 15 yet.
But it didn’t matter.
He knew how to kill him. He’d already won.
Nan Fenghua clutched his sleeve, voice trembling:
“Brother Zhang Luan… let’s run. We can’t win…”
Zhang Luan waved dismissively.
Run?
Impossible. One turned back, and endless storm and smoke would swallow him whole.
Why assume defeat? Last life, he’d been hunted like prey. This time—he’d erase this evil elder.
How?
Charge. Fight to kill.
On Zhang Luan’s status panel, glowing faintly with his surging excitement, four words shimmered:
*Ultimate Psychic Power*.
