Seeing Eric Bennett's indifferent gaze, the man couldn't help but feel his soul leave his body. In fact, this matter had nothing to do with him; he was also investigating the extermination of the Liu family. He had only jumped out because he saw Eric Bennett act so ruthlessly and couldn't help himself for a moment. But he hadn't expected to be so powerless, ending up in such a predicament.

That deep and serene gaze made it clear that if he didn't speak, he would be utterly annihilated in both body and soul. He absolutely believed that Eric Bennett was capable of doing such a thing without a second thought.

In that instant, the fear of complete death surged into his heart.

Mortals fear death, because for them, death is the end, the annihilation. Those who follow the path of immortality understand the mysteries of reincarnation and cultivate the undying and free nascent soul, so for them, death is merely a process. The body is important, but not fundamental.

But now, the man lying on the ground also felt the terror of utter annihilation. In a split second, he understood why mortals feared death so much.

The destruction of both body and soul is the greatest punishment—no matter what you once had, it all disappears after such annihilation.

It turns out that the confidence and transcendence of cultivators are built upon great power. When truly facing complete death, they are not much better than the mortals they usually look down upon.

Once he realized this, his courage instantly vanished like smoke. Besides, this wasn't some secret, nor was it betraying his own principles or going against his sect's teachings. To risk total annihilation for a moment's pride would be utterly ridiculous.

He looked at Eric Bennett's calm gaze, moved his lips, and finally spoke.

"It was disciples of the Blood Lotus Palace who came. We discovered that the county magistrate's son was colluding with them, so my sect sent me to keep a close watch. Unexpectedly, before I could investigate, the massacre of the Liu family had already occurred!"

Blood Lotus Palace?

Eric Bennett lowered his eyelids. This was a notorious demonic sect, dominating its region, with three hundred members. The palace master, Blood Lotus Jialan, was a supreme figure in the cultivation of the Heavenly Demon chapters. No wonder this disciple acted so recklessly, daring to refine a cultivator's nascent soul at will.

Has fate already turned to this point? Or is it that the heavens, seeing me idle for five hundred years, have decided to give me some excitement and trials? The days ahead will surely be filled with dazzling colors!

"I've told you everything... uh!" The man suddenly stopped speaking, because everything before his eyes changed dramatically. The county magistrate's attendant, who had already collapsed unconscious, was lying on the ground, while the nascent energy that had been destroyed within himself was now swirling in the hand of the man in green, emitting a faint golden light.

"Young man, the path of cultivation is still long. Don't be so reckless and impulsive as you were today. Next time, you may not be so lucky." Although Eric Bennett appeared to be just a youth, he spoke with the tone of an elder: "I'll return your nascent energy. Though it's a bit damaged, it's not a big problem. Take it back and continue your cultivation!"

"Senior...!" As soon as the pale golden nascent energy returned to his body, his face immediately flushed. Seeing Eric Bennett turning to leave, he hurriedly called out, "Senior, I am a disciple of the Green Bamboo Sect. My master gave me the name Miles Thompson. Please, senior, tell me your name so I can report back to my sect."

Eric Bennett didn't even turn his head: "I am from the Purple Gorge Cave. As for this youth, I have already erased his evil spell memories. He has a solid foundation and a determined will—he is a promising talent. You handle him as you see fit!"

With that, his figure simply vanished.

Miles Thompson looked around, breaking out in a cold sweat. Since the attendant was unharmed, everything he had seen must have been an illusion. He considered himself a cultivator with some foundation, yet he had fallen into the illusion without any resistance or awareness. Such Daoist arts were truly terrifying.

Perhaps from the moment he started following him, he had already been discovered, and from that instant, he had fallen under his control. The world is vast, and the path of immortality is boundless—truly incredible. He had thought he had glimpsed the threshold, but now it seemed he was just a frog at the bottom of a well.

Since such a master exists, there was no place for him to interfere. He needed to hurry back to his sect and report. He glanced at the unconscious attendant, recalled the instructions, felt a stir in his heart, picked him up, and with a flicker, also disappeared from the secluded alley.

After the two disappeared, the sounds of people outside finally drifted in, and the alley returned to its original appearance.

A hundred miles away, on a deserted mountain, inside a hastily established cave dwelling, on a makeshift altar, twelve banners glowing with blood-red flames were planted. In the center, on a pillar of blood-red light, a nascent soul the size of a ruler, still flickering with a faint purple glow, struggled atop it.

Four phosphorescent long needles were pierced into the nascent soul's limbs on the pillar, and blood-red flames roasted its limbs. The pain twisted the nascent soul's body, but it could not make a sound.