### Chapter 18: Trying to Trick Me? Wait Until Next Life!
With the three fourth-level raiders dead, Elder Dong and his two remaining men finally realized: the enemy meant to kill them all.
Dong scanned the scene, a chill gripping him. Three fifth-level cultivators versus a second-level and a fourth-level—and they were losing? It felt absurd. A retreating thought flickered, but greed for Lin Yi's technique smothered it. He'd stall, waiting for Hall Master Wei. Once Wei arrived, these two would be captured, and the technique would be his.
"Stay focused! Hall Master Wei will be here soon. Just hold them off a little longer," Dong snapped, noticing his men's panic.
"Right! Once Hall Master Wei comes, these two are dead!" one raider snarled, trying to rally his courage.
The other, recalling Wei's eighth-level power, calmed slightly, dodging Lin Yi's palms more steadily.
"Dammit, you think you can kill me? Before your backup arrives, I'll finish you! Then we'll see who's arrogant!" Lin Yi roared.
He turned to Yan Shizong. "Little Shizong, time to shine!"
Yan nearly choked. *My time to shine? When haven't I been fighting?* He seethed, but channeled his anger into action. This shameless man might be annoying, but bickering was pointless now.
Yan slapped his storage bag, summoning fourteen small knife-like artifacts. Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist, sending them streaking toward one raider, encircling him from three sides.
"Burst!" Yan pointed, snapping.
Boom! Boom!
The knives detonated in unison, a violent surge of spiritual energy engulfing the raider, threatening to grind him to dust.
"Aaaaah!"
The raider's scream cut off as he was torn to shreds.
Killing a fifth-level cultivator instantly at the cost of a set of knives—those artifacts must've been high-grade. It underscored the gulf between core sect disciples and rogue cultivators. What rogue wouldn't treasure such tools? Only the luckiest rogues, who'd reached Foundation Establishment, would scoff at them.
Dong and his last man paled, their resolve crumbling. The courage they'd mustered vanished. Retreat felt inevitable.
"Nice work, Little Shizong! I'll hold the other—hurry! If that eighth-level man comes back, we're dead!" Lin Yi praised, then added无赖ishly.
Yan had other artifacts, but they were too valuable to sacrifice. He'd meant it when he said he could kill three with his treasures—those were disposable.
With two raiders left, and the specter of Wei looming, Yan didn't hesitate. He drew a fiery fan, crackling with volatile fire energy, and waved it at the remaining fifth-level raider.
Witnessing Yan's talismans and exploding artifacts, the raider was terrified. He fled, but the fan's heat seared the air, trapping him.
The temperature spiked, fire energy hissing and sparking.
Suddenly, Dong bolted, fleeing without a glance back. With his speed, only another explosive artifact could stop him—and Yan wouldn't waste one.
" Dong Dunsheng, you b*st*rd! I curse you to die a horrible death!" the abandoned raider shrieked, spitting blood. His face twisted with bitterness.
"Pfft! A fifth-level cultivator running from me? Pathetic! Lucky you're fast—next time, I'll finish you!" Lin Yi spat at Dong's retreating back.
In moments, Dong vanished.
The last raider,绝望 crashing over him, dispelled his defenses and detonated his own spiritual energy.
He'd die on his own terms.
Lin Yi felt a flicker of respect. *A brave man, forced into this life.* He said quietly, "Yan Shizong, cremate him with fire."
He'd dropped "Little Shizong," making the mood heavier. Yan nodded, conjuring a fireball that reduced the body to ash—leaving only a storage bag.
Lin Yi picked it up, addressing the ashes: "You won't need this. Better I take it as payment for the cremation."
*Bold words for someone who didn't even light the fire,* Yan thought, disdain sharpening. He'd never known poverty; sect resources flowed to him. But Lin Yi, an outer disciple, earned every spirit stone through grifting and hard work. He'd suffered enough to cherish even a dead man's loot.
"What now?" Yan asked.
"Now?" Lin Yi stroked his chin, feigning thought. Then he slammed a fist into his palm. "Hunt more raiders!"
"But that eighth-level man—are you suicidal?" Yan gaped.
"Eighth-level?" Lin Yi gasped dramatically, startling Yan.
He leaned in, roaring, "Who cares? An eighth-level cultivator? We'll take him down! Together, we'll slay demons, butcher gods—nothing stops us!"
Yan stared, dumbfounded. "Are you insane?"
"Insane? You're the insane one!" Lin Yi glowered.
"Sanity says we run! He'd crush us! What makes you think we can kill him?" Yan scoffed.
Lin Yi grinned, eyeing Yan until he squirmed. "Little Shizong, you've got more artifacts, right? Toss a few, let 'em explode—even an eighth-level can't survive that. Admit it."
"Do you think my artifacts grow on trees? That fan was my last disposable one. It might wound him, but not kill him," Yan rolled his eyes.
"Tch! Spare me. A core disciple of Mengxuan Sect, a master refiner—you've got more tricks. Nice try, but I wasn't born yesterday. Trying to fool me? Wait until next life!" Lin Yi sneered, lips curling.