The Snow Wolves came towards Lewis from directions, low growls rumbling ferociously. Lewis felt a
wave of ultimate despair come over him. He was completely immobilized. Knowing that surviving that
was impossible, he lay there, making no efforts to resist them. Maybe, he had known all along that he
would be doomed to death when Ricky killed Luther.
Up on the cliff, the three young men at the seventh grade of Skin Refinement stared at this gruesome
sight without a trace of sympathy. They even felt that this was not enough to calm their hatred for
Lewis.
"This bastard is lucky that he's going to be devoured by Snow Wolves! We let him off lightly this time!"
one of the young men sneered.
"We don't really have a choice! It's not easy to catch those especially fierce beasts like the serpents in
this snow mountain! Otherwise, it would be a hell of a battle! Ha-ha!"
"Go to hell!" a tremendous roar echoed throughout the valley, as if a ferocious tiger had become
consumed with anger.
As the roaring sound reverberated near them, one of the young men's chests was suddenly smashed
by a powerful fist. All of his organs exploded out of his body. In a split second, he was nothing more
than blood and pulp.
He died before even finding out who had killed him with this tremendous blow, his body falling off the
cliff.
"Who's there?!" The other two young men said nervously. They were on the alert at once, the power
within their bodies ready to fight within an instant.
But it was too late for them to fight. They spun around, only to see two flames whizzing to their necks.
They were decapitated in a fleeting moment, two heads rolling down the cliff, joining the corpse of the
first young man.
After killing them in a flash, Ricky rushed down the valley as quickly as he could. With his sword
surrounded by flaming red energy, he threw himself directly at the fearsome Snow Wolves.
These Snow Wolves were no better than warriors at the eighth grade of Skin Refinement. They were
no match for Ricky, especially now when he was filled with blinding rage. After several moments, the
valley ran red with their blood.
"Ri…Ricky, why are you here?" Lewis said in astonishment. He lay on the ground, struggling to raise
himself up with ebbing strength.
"Don't say anything. Let's go back home first!" Ricky said, his eyes filled with tears at the sight of his
friend.
It had become clear to him that Lewis must have taken all the responsibility of Luther's death.
Otherwise, Dustin would have come after Vivian and Ricky too.
With Vivian leading the way, Ricky took Lewis back to their quarters, gently carrying his wounded
friend.
After a detailed examination of Lewis's body, Ricky felt relieved. Lewis' injuries were shallow, not fatal.
His friend still had a life ahead of him.
But Lewis's limbs had all been fractured, broken in several places. He would become severely disabled
for the rest of his life, unless he was treated with plants containing the spiritual energy of the nature or
other advanced medicinal pills and elixirs.
'Lewis, my good friend... I will avenge your pain ten-fold on Dustin! I promise!' Ricky thought as he
clenched his fists, boiling with rage.
"Vivian, I'll go find some medicinal pills. I'll be back soon! Stay by Lewis' side. Take care of him!"
But in truth, Ricky's destination was not the Medicine Pavilion.
...
As he walked down to the cultivation square, the sight of Ricky caught the disciples' attention. His
clothes were soaked through with blood, and even the saber on his back was still covered in blood,
which was spattering onto the ground.
"Is that Ricky? He hasn't shown up here for a month!"
"Why could he be here? There's blood all over him!" Murmuring among themselves, the disciples
began to speculate all at once.
None of them dared to call Ricky a good-for-nothing anymore. Not after his battle to the death with
Wade.
"Where's Dustin?" Ricky seized one disciple by the collar, asking savagely with a bruised, flushed face.
"He…he is…" The disciple's tongue froze with terror. But he could feel Ricky's rage, and knew he could
not lie. He told him where Dustin was, in a low, trembling voice.
Ricky let go of the disciple and headed in that direction.
"Wha…what is going on? Why on earth is he looking for Dustin?" Seeing this, all the disciples were
dumbfounded.
"He's covered head to toe in blood! I'm afraid something horrible is going to take place!"
"Don't tell me that he wants to challenge Dustin to a fight! Dustin is part of the top ten outer disciples;
he's ranked fifth!"
"God knows what this boy is going to do! Don't forget that he's a nut for turning his back on his own
father!"
As the shocked discussion ensued, the disciples followed Ricky, who was heading to Dustin with a
murderous gleam in his eye.
Dustin's exclusive cultivation yard, which boasted an elaborate set-up, showed his high-ranking
position among the outer disciples.
Ricky strode to the doorway of the yard, clenching his fists in preparation for breaking the door down.
Just then, a disciple dressed in gray stood in front of Ricky, a scowl on his face.
"You little brat, how dare you cause a scene here? Are you looking to get killed?" the disciple sneered
disdainfully.
"That's Watson, one of Dustin's assistants! He is at the ninth grade of Skin Refinement!" some disciples
said excitedly, at the sight of him standing up against Ricky.
"Get out of my way!" Ricky simply answered, the boiling rage gleaming in his eyes.
Watson's face immediately turned grim at Ricky's disrespect.
After all, Watson was a warrior at the ninth grade of Skin Refinement! There was no one above him
among the outer disciples in the Snow Sect save the top ten outer disciples. Everyone usually treated
him with humble reverence. But this brat, Ricky, did not.
"Take this!"
Ricky had already raised his fists, and with a deafening roar, aimed them at Watson's face with intense
power.
"You ungrateful little brat!"
Watson was outraged at Ricky attacking first with a tricky move. Watson rapidly gathered his ocherous
spiritual energy onto his right hand, slapping this against Ricky in a flash with the power of earth.
"Bang!" It was like thunder, the sound of a fist crashing into a hand, both with intense power. At the
impact, a strong blast swept through the air.
The sound of shattering of bones was heard at the tail end of the blast. With a shrill scream, Watson
was knocked down to the ground with only one blow.
A horrified silence fell over the crowd, only the sound of Watson screaming with pain echoing through
the air.
The disciples gasped, as if they had seen a ghost in real life.
'How could this even happen? Who is Watson? A warrior at the ninth grade of Skin Refinement! He
was among the top twenty outer disciples in Snow Sect!
Even if it were the top ten outer disciples that fought against him, Watson couldn't have been defeated
with just a single blow!
It had only been a month since Ricky fought against Wade. Back then, Ricky was at most a warrior at
the seventh grade of Skin Refinement. But now, he conquered Watson with one hit? How is that
possible?' the disciples thought.
They shook their heads in shock, hoping they would wake up from this strange dream.
But they never did. It was truly taking place, this series of most unexpected events.
If only they knew that Ricky had killed Jim—the ninth ranking outer disciple of the top ten, they would
probably question everything they knew about reality and their world.
Ignoring Watson, who was writhing in pain, Ricky raised his fist again, smashing the door into
smithereens. The loud noise broke the shocked silence.
"Dustin, come face me if you're not a coward!" Ricky yelled at the top of his lungs. He felt an
overwhelming murderous intent taking over his whole being.
"Who the hell is it? What kind of brat has the nerve to barge in here!?" a handsome young man
dressed in white robes strode out into the yard.
He had two jet black eyes. They were so deeply black, like the venomous stinger of a scorpion—
sinister and insidious, intimating those who saw it.
Finally. This young man in white was the famous Dustin, the fifth ranking outer disciple in the Snow
Sect.
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