Chapter 18 Slapped by junior

Chapter 18: Chapter 18: Slapped by junior

Seeing this, Gareth Kessler could hardly accept what was about to happen.

As a cultivator at the first layer of the Heavenly Origin Realm and a prominent young figure in Wexford City, how could he allow a junior from the Mercer Family to slap him in front of everyone?

If word of this humiliation spread throughout the city, how could he ever show his face again?

He had no intention of standing there and taking the punishment. The instant Adrian moved to strike him, Gareth shifted his feet, preparing to dodge.

But before he could take a single step, something changed.

From an angle hidden from the crowd, Julian Mercer casually picked up a melon seed from the fruit platter on the wooden table.

He held it between two fingers and flicked it forward.

The tiny seed shot through the air with astonishing force, cutting past the gathered people like a flying dart.

Thwip!

It pierced straight through Gareth’s right leg.

Blood spattered across the floor, soaking through his trouser leg in an instant.

"AAARGH!"

Gareth let out a bloodcurdling scream. The sudden, unbearable pain robbed him of his balance, and he crashed to the ground.

He immediately clutched his injured leg with both hands. His face turned ashen, his entire body trembling as he curled up on the floor.

Adrian froze.

For a moment, he could hardly believe what had just happened. Then he instinctively turned his head toward Julian.

The moment he saw the faint smile on his Patriarch’s face, he understood.

The Patriarch is backing me.

The realization filled Adrian with strength. Whatever happened next, he wasn’t facing these people alone.

He turned back toward Gareth, his expression hardening.

SMACK!

Adrian’s palm struck Gareth across the face.

"That’s for acting superior!"

SMACK!

"That’s for talking nonsense inside the Mercer Family’s home!"

SMACK!

"And that’s for thinking you can lecture our Patriarch about what he should do!"

Slap after slap rang through the hall.

With every strike, Adrian felt a little more satisfied. After everything the Kessler Family had done, he had no sympathy for Gareth whatsoever.

Gareth, meanwhile, didn’t dare retaliate.

The memory of that tiny seed piercing his leg remained fresh in his mind. If Julian could injure him with something so insignificant, killing him would be even easier.

What if the next attack struck his throat? Or his heart?

The thought alone was enough to extinguish any desire to fight back.

Gareth swallowed his humiliation and endured the blows in silence.

He had also begun to understand something else.

The City Lord wasn’t going to offend Julian Mercer merely to protect the interests of the Bellamy and Kessler families.

If he resisted now, he might not even leave the Mercer estate alive.

Before long, Adrian’s hand finally stopped moving.

Gareth’s face had swollen badly, both cheeks red and distorted. His original appearance was almost impossible to recognize.

Adrian withdrew his hand, looking down at him with lingering satisfaction.

"The Kessler family’s faces really are tougher than ordinary people’s. My palm actually hurts from hitting yours."

Since learning that the Kessler Family had tampered with the Purple Spirit Pill that nearly ruined Julian’s breakthrough, Adrian had developed nothing but contempt for them. He had no intention of sparing Gareth even a little dignity.

Gareth’s anger surged.

Yet as the burning pain spread across his swollen face, he could only lower his head and remain silent.

He no longer dared to utter a single word.

Seeing his son in such a miserable state, Patriarch Kessler felt a chill run through him. He glanced furtively toward Julian, hoping to judge the man’s intentions.

Unfortunately, his glance met Julian’s gaze.

The instant their eyes locked, Patriarch Kessler felt as though he had been plunged into an icy abyss.

His heartbeat seemed to stop for half a second. An overwhelming fear gripped his soul.

He suddenly realized that the man standing before him might kill him without the slightest hesitation.

Desperate to save his life, he hurriedly began explaining.

"It was the Rourke Family! They instructed us to do it! We didn’t want things to turn out this way, but the Rourkes threatened us, and we had no choice..."

"Blaming the dead."

Julian interrupted him with a faint, dismissive smile.

"You’ve certainly found a convenient way to clear yourself of responsibility. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in hearing your excuses."

Patriarch Kessler’s expression twisted with panic.

He opened his mouth, desperate to say something else.

But it was already too late.

A streak of scarlet light shot toward him. It moved so quickly that he had no time to evade it.

His eyes widened. His pupils filled with disbelief and unwillingness.

Then the strand of Pure Yang Primordial Energy pierced straight through his forehead.

BOOM!

An explosive burst echoed through the grand hall.

Patriarch Kessler’s head burst apart in a spray of blood. His headless body toppled to the floor, blood pouring from the neck until a pool began spreading beneath him.

The crimson splatter stained Gareth’s robes and face.

He stared at his father’s corpse.

His pupils contracted to pinpoints.

Yet, strangely, there was no anger in his heart. No burning desire for revenge. No thought of making Julian pay.

There was only fear.

Endless, suffocating fear.

I’m next.

That thought consumed him.

Across the hall, Patriarch Bellamy was in no better condition. His body trembled violently, beyond his control.

He had never imagined Julian would kill Patriarch Kessler without warning, especially with City Lord Darius Fenwick sitting right there.

Julian hadn’t even bothered to disguise his intentions.

The entire hall fell silent.

The Bellamy and Kessler family members stood frozen, their faces drained of color. None dared to speak, much less make a move.

Through it all, Julian remained perfectly calm.

His expression was as still as a deep spring untouched by the wind. He offered no explanation and showed no interest in justifying his actions.

These people weren’t worthy of one.

After a moment, his gaze shifted toward the remaining members of the two families.

"You offered four-tenths of your clan assets to settle this matter, didn’t you?"

He paused briefly.

"Why stop at four-tenths? Let’s make it ten-tenths instead."

Julian had no intention of letting them walk away.

The Bellamy and Kessler families had taken advantage of his years in seclusion to seize Mercer properties, plunder their resources, and push them toward ruin. Their actions had cost countless Mercer disciples their lives in conflicts and nearly driven the family to extinction.

Did they honestly believe they could offer a portion of their stolen wealth and leave as though nothing had happened?

Julian had already made his decision.

The next instant, his figure blurred.

Under the horrified gazes of everyone present, he unleashed dozens of palm strikes in rapid succession. Layer upon layer of illusory palm shadows filled the hall, each one finding its target with frightening precision.

By the time Julian returned to his original position, his hands were already resting behind his back.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

More than a dozen members of the Bellamy and Kessler families collapsed almost simultaneously. Their skulls had been shattered, and not one showed the slightest sign of life.

The hall had become a slaughterhouse.

Adrian and the Mercer disciples gathered near the entrance stared at Julian in stunned silence.

Then their expressions changed.

A fierce, almost fanatical admiration appeared in their eyes.

The Patriarchs of two major families had been killed right before them. Julian had dealt with the remaining enemies just as effortlessly, as though he were crushing a handful of insects beneath his feet.

Is this the strength our Patriarch possesses now?

He’s simply too powerful!

Yet Julian showed no trace of pride. Standing with his hands behind his back, he carried himself with the effortless composure of a true master.

At that moment, Darius Fenwick’s voice broke the silence.

"Heh. Patriarch Mercer certainly has formidable methods."

Julian turned toward him after dismissing the surrounding Mercer disciples. His movements remained unhurried, as though the bloodshed that had just occurred were an insignificant interruption.

"I merely disposed of a few insignificant nuisances." He regarded Darius calmly. "Now, about the matter you mentioned earlier, City Lord. What exactly did you have in mind?"

Darius’s expression grew serious.

He rose from his grand chair and studied Julian for a moment before speaking.

"The cultivation method you practice, Patriarch Mercer, must be of considerable grade, wouldn’t you agree?"

Julian shook his head casually.

"It’s nothing special. Merely a Profound Rank cultivation method left behind by my ancestors."

Darius wasn’t surprised. Instead, a look of understanding crossed his face, as though Julian’s answer had confirmed his expectations.

As the City Lord of Wexford, he knew the history of the Mercer Family well enough.

Although Julian’s techniques were remarkably refined and his combat strength far exceeded what most cultivators at his level could achieve, Darius had no reason to believe that he possessed an Earth Rank cultivation method.

After all, the Mercer Family had never been particularly prominent among the powers of Ravenholt Province.

For Julian to reach his current level using a Profound Rank method was already a testament to his extraordinary talent.

Darius continued, "Your natural aptitude is certainly impressive. To reach your present state while relying on a cultivation method of that grade is no small achievement."

His tone shifted slightly.

"However, if you intend to advance any further, I’m afraid your ambitions may exceed what your current foundation can support."

Julian’s gaze deepened.

"Oh? What do you mean by that?"