Getting a Sugar Mommy in Cultivation World!! - Chapter 822 - 822: The Power That Mortals Cannot Defy

“Should we really be moving along like this?” Looking at the back of her fellow sister, Chen Xueyan voiced her worries.

Unlike before, when they traveled with the protection of an elder of the sect, the two were currently partaking in missions on their own.

They were riding on the back of a Thousand Step Horse—a rare breed of demonic horse that is rumored to cross thousands of steps within a breath of time.

“We cannot trouble elders for every little thing.” Jiang Shi shook her head without looking back. They were traveling through a wide road carved through a desolate land. “We have already reached the golden core realm; we should be able to handle most of the dangers of the world. It’s not like we will face Soul Formation level powerhouses out here.”

Ahead of them, a long road seemed to be stretched beyond the world that eventually leads to the snowy mountains in the distance.

“Besides, Elder also needs to cultivate herself. She cannot always look after us.”

“Is that why everyone decided to move on their own?”

“We need to eventually be able to face adversities on our own.”

While the two of them continued to converse about different topics, their horses charged through the area like an arrow shot from the bow that seemed impossible to be stopped.

But…

Something eventually made this invincible arrow stop.

Neighh!!!

The horses shouted as they came to a stop a few meters away from a village that looked like it had been abandoned for a while.

“What happened here?” Chen Xueyan asked with a frown as she continued to slowly approach Jiang Shi.

“I smell blood from inside.” Jiang Shi replied while looking around. “Should we check it?”

“I am fine with whatever you want. We also needed to gather some information before proceeding any further.”

Hearing Chen Xueyan’s words, Jiang Shi nodded and commanded the horse to charge into the village.

The moment they entered the village, the air changed.

Fresh blood, layered over old. Bodies lay scattered—men, women, and the elderly. Some bore clean cuts; others looked as if they had been drained dry, their faces frozen in terror. Crimson demonic sigils were carved into walls and flesh alike, faintly pulsing.

Chen Xueyan’s brows knitted together. Her hand instinctively moved to the hilt of her sword.

“This,” she muttered. “This is horrible.”

“Who could do such a thing?”

Jiang Shi’s expression hardened. She dismounted in one smooth motion, her boots crunching softly against dried debris. The Thousand Step Horse snorted uneasily behind her, stamping its hooves as if sensing danger.

She looked at the bodies and analyzed them closely. “It seems to be the work of humans.”

Chen Xueyan ground her teeth but did not retort. She was not a naive child; she knew what humans were capable of.

“This technique…” Jiang Shi seemed to have noticed something peculiar about the cuts on the body as she analyzed them.

Before she could say more, a manic laugh echoed from ahead.

“HAHAHA—look at this little thing!”

The two women froze.

They followed the sound and arrived at a partially collapsed courtyard. There, a group of ragged cultivators stood in a loose semicircle, their auras violent and bloodthirsty. Crimson sigils crawled along their skin like living scars.

At their center stood a hulking man, veins blackened and swollen beneath his flesh, a massive blade resting on his shoulder.

From the gap, she could see who it was they had surrounded.

A child.

The captain’s grin widened at the sight.

“Oh? Still glaring at me?” He raised his hand, qi surging violently. Blood-red mist gathered, twisting and compressing into dozens of sharp, floating blades. “Good. Fear makes the blood sweeter.”

“Stop—” Chen Xueyan stepped forward, anger flashing across her face.

She was too late.

The captain thrust his hand forward.

The Blood Sword Mirage screamed through the air, rushing toward the child with murderous intent—

But then… It stopped.

The crimson blades froze mid-air, hovering mere inches from the boy’s face.

A biting cold surged through the courtyard.

“Breath of Frost.” A voice colder than the frost freezing the blade echoed through the village. Chen Xueyan turned her head to see her usual cheery junior sister stepping forward, her face devoid of any emotion.

The blood blades froze from the tips; pale blue ice swallowed crimson qi inch by inch. The demonic energy hissed violently.

Crack!

Jiang Shi raised her hand and clenched her fist—one blade shattered, then another.

Fragments of the frozen blood qi drifted into the air before they could even touch the ground.

The laughter died instantly.

Now, with a solemn look on his face, the captain looked at the two sisters. “Who goes there? Identify yourself!”

Despite his wariness, the authority in his voice did not diminish at all.

Jiang Shi stepped forward. Snowflake-like runes shimmered faintly around her, her pale blue robes fluttering despite the absence of wind. Her gaze was calm, icy, and utterly devoid of emotion.

“You have no right to know my name.” Her voice was soft, but the temperature around them plummeted even further. “You can just… die.”

The captain suddenly tensed, his eyes shooting wide as he bellowed. “Defend!”

The urgency in his voice startled the rest of the cultists, but they dared not dawdle.

The captain’s caution turned out to be well founded, as the next second, piercing cries of a phoenix echoed through the heavens.

A majestic beast, made out of nothing but pure ice, appeared out of nowhere and looked down at the group from the sky.

Its cold eyes looked down at them as if they were looking at mere insects. The moment the Ice Phoenix spread its wings, the world seemed to lose all sound.

The air itself froze, layers upon layers of cold pressing down on the courtyard like an invisible mountain. The Blood Demon Sect cultivators felt their hearts seize as frost crept into their lungs with every breath.

“What—what kind of technique is this?!” one of them screamed, desperately circulating his qi.

But it was already too late.

The phoenix raised its head and unleashed a breath that felt no weaker than a typhoon. An awful breath carried the authority of ice itself. The ground vanished beneath a rapidly expanding white mist, the ruins erased as if scrubbed from existence.

The breath washed over the courtyard.

And all that was left behind was a little boy, clutching to his mother’s corpse, baffled by the might of cultivators, power that holds the fate of mere mortals within its grasp.