The butler fell to his knees with a thud and said, “Young master, someone outside is trying to come in—we can’t stop them!”

Before he finished speaking, the sound of crackling and cries of pain came from outside. John Parker shouted angrily, “Who’s there?”

A guard rushed in, flustered, and said, “They’re too strong—we can’t hold them back!”

John Parker dashed toward the moon gate, and as he reached the doorway, he was instantly infuriated.

A cultivator was wielding a long staff, sending the charging guards flying one after another. How could ordinary people possibly fight a cultivator?

Dozens of guards were beaten so badly they were rolling on the ground, and behind this cultivator stood five or six companions. With John Parker’s discerning eye, he could tell at a glance that these people were all cultivators.

“Stop!”

Drawing the longsword from his back, John Parker pointed at them and shouted, “All of you, stop!”

The other party tossed aside his staff, drew his own longsword, and stared coldly at John Parker, saying, “So you’ve got some backup, huh? Kid, get out of the chieftain’s residence—scram!”

John Parker was a domineering figure himself. Even before cultivating, he was a local tyrant in Luoxing City. How could he tolerate such provocation? He shouted, “You’re looking for death!”

With a swing of his sword, a streak of radiant light slashed out along the blade. The opponent, however, remained calm and blocked with his sword.

Boom!

A violent blast of energy instantly wrecked the surroundings, and several guards standing nearby were sent flying by the force.

John Parker swept his hand across his waist and shouted sharply, “Swift!” A talisman shot out, transforming into a firebird that blasted straight at his opponent.

The man showed no weakness, slashing down with his sword, but didn’t expect this to be a high-level talisman. He was blown away, sword and all, his body bursting into flames as he screamed in agony.

Mr. Parker was hiding behind the moon gate, secretly watching. To his disappointment, the expert his son had brought was still sitting in the room, while the other three had come out but were only watching from a distance.

Some rushed forward to put out the fire, others pressed in closer. Clearly, this group was now enraged.

John Parker gave a whistle, and his three companions also came out with swords drawn. The other side was clearly startled, realizing that all four of them were quite strong.

A sharp screech cut through the air as someone suddenly descended from the sky. By now, it was completely dark, but this person was surrounded by a dazzling aura—this was a true flying sword.

The moment he appeared, his overwhelming pressure forced John Parker and his three companions to retreat repeatedly, their faces all changing.

John Parker’s expression turned grim. This man’s strength far surpassed his own. He couldn’t help but glance back, only to find that the grandmaster still hadn’t appeared, making him feel a bit panicked inside, though he couldn’t show it. He could only put on a tough front and say, “Which sect are you from?”

By the light of the roadside lantern, John Parker stared at the man.

He was a middle-aged man in a red robe, draped in a black cloak, wearing deerskin boots, his face full of sinister energy.

After landing, he didn’t even look at John Parker and the others, but instead turned to his own group and said in a cold, gloomy voice, “Useless! Idiots! Fools! Can’t even handle a simple task. And you—what’s your excuse?”

He pointed at the man injured by John Parker. That man was clearly terrified, stammering, unable to say anything coherent.

The middle-aged man slapped him out of thin air, sending him sprawling to the ground. In front of John Parker and his companions, he proceeded to viciously beat his entire group—every punch landed solidly, and with every kick, you could almost hear bones breaking. He was absolutely ruthless.

Only then did he turn to face John Parker and his group, saying coolly, “And who the hell are you? Dare to lay a finger on my men?”

His presence was so overwhelming that John Parker and the other three were completely intimidated, unable to utter a word.

With four slaps in the air, not missing a single one, he sent all four of them flying back inside the moon gate. Then he looked at Mr. Parker, who was hiding behind the door.

Walking over to Mr. Parker, he saw that he was a mortal, so he didn’t hit him—just patted his head and said, “This isn’t a place for you to meddle. Go hide.”

But Mr. Parker didn’t leave. Instead, he scrambled over to his son’s side. His son was lying on the ground, dazed, trying to get up.

That airborne slap had swollen John Parker’s face. Luckily, he had started cultivating, or that slap might have killed him.

The man led his subordinates, striding proudly toward the small building.

“Oh? Not a bad little building—quite exquisite!”

Then, he saw William Harris in the living room of the building.

William Harris looked at him with a half-smile and said, “David Cooper? Did you have fun beating people up? Enjoy yourself?”

At the sight of William Harris, David Cooper’s face changed dramatically.

“Master Jin!”

William Harris looked at him calmly, his expression serene, not a trace of anger. But David Cooper felt a wave of intense chill, regretting bitterly in his heart—how did he end up provoking this guy!

“Master Jin… senior… senior… I, I…”

David Cooper never imagined he would provoke this person. In the cultivation world, the other was a top expert, a grandmaster-level figure, and this guy was never known for being easy to deal with.