Hope didn’t stop at one guard. Destruction took over his reasoning, amplifying his anger to an uncontrollable level. The blood from his previous kill hadn't even had time to pool before his body moved with lethal speed.

  With a flash, Hope vanished from sight, his sword a mere blur as it reappeared by the side of the second guard. The blade slashed cleanly through the air, cutting the guard’s neck with horrifying precision. The headless body crumpled to the ground, blood splattering in all directions, mixing with the growing puddle at Hope’s feet. The sound of the second guard’s body hitting the floor echoed through the streets, but it was quickly drowned out by the splattering of fresh blood.

  Before anyone could even begin to react, two guards were already dead, their bodies laying in a macabre display of death—headless, bloodied, and still twitching slightly as their life forces drained away. The sight was enough to freeze the few onlookers that had dared to watch. The city had seen fights, even skirmishes between cultivators, but nothing like this. This was a massacre.

  The girl in the distance, who had once looked down at Hope with disdain and smug superiority, stood frozen in place. The smirk that had been plastered on her face now turned to a pale mask of terror. Her breathing was shallow, each breath coming out faster than the last, as if she couldn’t catch it. Her eyes were wide, unable to focus on anything but the horrific scene unfolding before her. Thoughts swirled in her mind, but they couldn’t form into anything coherent. She was paralyzed by fear.

  The protector, his hand still gripping the hilt of his sword, stood motionless, his face paling as he watched the carnage unfold. The guards he had been so confident in, the elite warriors of the city, had been cut down without a second thought. The boy was nothing like he had imagined. Hope’s strength wasn’t just beyond the guard’s reach; it was in a realm entirely out of their league. Early Spirit Awakening cultivators, even trained ones, were like children to this monstrous figure.

  His heart raced, and for a moment, he thought he might choke on his own fear. His mind screamed in panic, ‘We fucked up’ but the words didn’t feel like enough to express the magnitude of the disaster. This wasn’t just about the guards, or even about Hope anymore. It was about their lives—his and the girl’s—hanging by a thread. If Hope’s wrath wasn’t stopped soon, they would be next.

  Hope didn’t seem to notice the panic around him. His blood was boiling, his vision consumed with an almost primal instinct to destroy. Each death, each severed head, only fed the beast inside him, stoking the fires of his fury. His aura was thick, suffocating, like a storm cloud of destruction that rolled outward from him with every breath. The little one clinging to his chest—its fur standing on end—could feel the wave of fear that swept from its companion. It licked at his uniform desperately, as though trying to calm him, but Hope was beyond reason.

  Another guard fell, his head landing with a sickening thud as his body crumpled. The blood that pooled on the ground around Hope grew, now staining the stone beneath his feet. The red liquid was pooling, but Hope barely seemed to notice as he stood in the middle of the chaos. He was a blur of motion, each strike quick and merciless. His sword moved like an extension of his will, cutting down anyone who dared to approach.

  The protector had finally gathered enough of his wits to shout, his voice cracking under the pressure of the moment. "STOP!" His words were laced with urgency, desperate to contain the damage that had already been done. But even as he spoke, it was clear that his voice would have little effect on the storm that Hope had become.

  What he didn’t expect was that Hope didn’t care about his shout. Hope’s anger had consumed him. His sword moved with brutal swiftness, cutting down another guard without hesitation. The streets, once filled with life, had become a slaughterhouse, the air thick with blood and death.

  By now, four bodies lay on the ground. In mere seconds, half the guards had fallen. The remaining ones hesitated, fear creeping into their hearts as they realized their fate was sealed.

  The protector, a mid-Will Refinement cultivator, charged in, hoping his strength would force Hope to listen. But he quickly realized Hope was far stronger than him. Despite his best efforts, two more guards fell, their heads severed with ruthless precision. The protector’s despair deepened. His own strength seemed laughable in the face of Hope’s fury.

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  ‘Why did I agree to that spoiled girl’s suggestion?’ he thought desperately. The more he fought, the clearer it became—there was no escaping this.

  Soon, only Hope and the protector remained. The once-confident guard now felt like a cornered animal, facing an inevitable death.

  Hope was consumed by rage, a fire that only grew stronger with each passing moment. He needed to vent, and the protector was the perfect outlet. With a roar, Hope charged, his sword glowing with intent as he unleashed a relentless assault. Each swing was precise and deadly, guided by his instincts, and the protector struggled to defend himself.

  Injuries mounted quickly, and Hope’s blade severed the protector’s right arm in a swift motion. Blood poured as the man staggered back, defenses crumbling.

  Hope raised his sword for the final blow, eyes cold and burning. Just as the strike was about to land—

  “STOP!”

  The shout rang out, halting Hope mid-strike. The world seemed to freeze in that moment.

  An authoritative voice rang out, cutting through the chaos.

  Hope didn’t flinch. His sword cut cleanly through the air, decapitating the protector with ease. Blood sprayed across the cobblestones, and the head flew in a gruesome arc.

  The protector’s eyes widened in shock and regret. His gaze was filled with anger—not toward Hope—but toward the girl who had caused this destruction.

  Hope’s chest heaved, not from exhaustion, but from the intensity of his anger. His thoughts were simple and cold: ‘I’m tired’.

  As blood pooled around him, a figure emerged from the street. The crowd had already scattered. Hope, however, was too consumed by his fury to notice.

  The man who appeared was middle-aged, greying hair framing his imposing presence. He strode toward Hope, exuding authority.

  "I told you to stop" he said, his tone firm and commanding.

  Hope stared at him, silent and seething. His hands trembled, and his eyes flickered with a dangerous purple light. His qi swirled around him in a chaotic frenzy, moving faster than he could control, a sign of how deeply his anger had overtaken him.

  The girl, still shaking from the shock of the events, snapped out of her daze and cried out, her voice trembling, “Dad!” Her distress only deepened the silence that hung in the air.

  Julian Foster, the governor of Serene Sun City, didn't spare his daughter a glance. His focus was entirely on Hope now. He was a seasoned ruler, accustomed to authority and control, but even he felt a surge of uncertainty in the face of such raw power. His only thought was to stop this boy from causing more bloodshed in his city.

  Julian spoke slowly, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising tension. “You disobeyed an order. What’s your reason?”

  Hope’s gaze remained cold, unwavering. His anger hadn't faded, but he was regaining his composure—just barely. His body was coiled, like a spring ready to snap at any moment, and every fiber of his being screamed for destruction. But for now, he stayed silent, his emotions bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to burst free.

  Julian's frown deepened as he observed the young man before him. Hope’s silence only made the situation more tense, and Julian’s patience was beginning to wear thin. He hadn’t expected this—he didn’t know what had triggered the bloodshed, but he was certain there had to be an explanation. He had rushed over the moment the commotion reached him, his personal guards quickly informing him of the chaos.

  His eyes moved to his daughter, who was still standing off to the side, trembling. Her face was pale, and the weight of the situation seemed to be crashing down on her. Julian's stern gaze cut through the air as he demanded, "What happened?"

  The girl, seeing her father’s intensity, hastily blurted out, “He started killing everyone out of nowhere, he’s crazy!” Her words were a calculated lie, a desperate attempt to save face and avoid the consequences of her actions. The mistake was hers, but she couldn't afford to be blamed for the deaths of nine guards in the heart of her city.

  Julian turned his attention back to Hope after listening to his daughter’s words. His expression was unreadable as he asked “Is this true?”

  Hope’s response came out slowly, each word deliberate and heavy with suppressed fury. “What... if…it’s... true?” His voice carried a mix of indifference and defiance, the weight of his anger still evident in his eyes. He wasn’t going to offer any justification; it didn’t matter to him anymore.

  Julian's expression hardened as he steadied himself, his weapon ready for battle. “Then I will have to kill you” he declared coldly.

  Hope’s anger boiled over. "Try" he hissed, his voice barely audible before he vanished from Julian’s view.

  Like a ghost, Hope reappeared before the girl, his destructive intent pulsing around him. His eyes glowed with a fierce purple, and with a surge of power, his destruction aura spread out like wildfire.

  The girl never had a chance to react. In an instant, nothing remained of her—no body, no blood, just an empty space where she once stood.

  Hope stood motionless, the only sound the ragged breaths he struggled to control. The world around him felt still, heavy with the aftermath of his rage.

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