### Chapter 25: It's Him
"Save me!"
The cry from the apple-faced female cultivator sent a jolt through Lin Yi. His face lit up as if injected with adrenaline, and he pointed sharply at the seven pursuers, his voice booming with feigned righteousness: "Stop!"
A Level 4 Qi Refinement cultivator daring to order seven Level 6s? It sounded absurd—even ghosts wouldn't believe it.
"Crazy," one raider scoffed, eyeing Lin Yi like he was a fool.
"Please! Save me!" The woman darted to Lin Yi, grabbing his hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her expression so pitiful it could soften the hardest heart.
Lin Yi's mind short-circuited. *So soft, so smooth…* The words slipped out before he could stop them. His eyes, filled with unbridled desire, lingered on the faint glimpse of her chest through her disheveled robes, and he felt a stir below. *It's been too long since I've been with a woman…*
He licked his lips, swallowing hard, his gaze locking onto hers with a lecherous glint.
The woman froze, then yanked her hand back, horror dawning. She'd been desperate—her spiritual energy all but exhausted—so she'd turned to the first person she saw, even a Level 4. Now, regret coiled in her stomach.
Lin Yi stared after her hand, savoring the memory, his heart fluttering like a schoolboy's.
"Watch out!" she screamed, panic sharpening her tone.
A raider hurled a spell at Lin Yi—impressive, but not earth-shattering. The other six surged toward her, their spells aimed to disable, not kill. Clearly, they wanted her alive. It was the only reason she'd survived this long.
The raider who'd cast at Lin Yi joined the others, confident his spell would finish the Level 4 upstart. *A Level 4? Nothing to worry about.*
Contempt—Lin Yi hated it. Rage simmered. He was going to make them pay.
"Iron Sand Palm!" He lashed out, his palm slicing through the air toward the raider who'd cast the spell. As for the incoming magic? He scoffed. *Pathetic. Not even worth absorbing to temper my meridians.*
The raider watched, dumbfounded, as his spell slammed into Lin Yi—*and did nothing*. It was like throwing a pebble at a mountain. His eyes widened, mind going blank. He forgot to dodge.
Lin Yi's Iron Sand Palm was different now. Beyond the faint "noble" aura in his internal energy, its raw power could crush a Level 2 cultivator—something unthinkable before. With that aura, his martial arts energy now clashed evenly with spiritual power… at least, for those below Foundation Establishment.
Internal energy resisting spiritual power?
It defied every law of the immortal world. For centuries, cultivators had been gods to warriors; spiritual energy, the lifeblood of immortals, was *far* superior to a warrior's internal energy. It was an unbreakable rule—internal energy wasn't even worthy of comparison. It's why Lin Yi had been mocked for practicing Iron Sand Palm; in a world of spiritual power, martial arts seemed obsolete.
But Lin Yi had shattered that rule.
*Boom!*
His palm connected. The raider's body convulsed as Lin Yi's internal energy collided with his spiritual power, turning his insides into a battlefield.
"What… kind of power is this?" the raider gasped, bewildered.
Before he could recover, Lin Yi struck again—palm after palm, relentless.
"Aaaaah!" The raider's face扭曲 (niǔqū, contorted) in agony.
With a final, sickening *crack*, his body exploded into a shower of blood and flesh, painting the surrounding trees crimson. Lin Yi snatched his storage bag mid-air, then stood, preening, his gaze locking onto the remaining six raiders and the gaping apple-faced woman.
Vanity surged—this was the thrill of being underestimated, then proving them wrong. He puffed out his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.
A Level 6 reduced to paste by a Level 4? The six raiders and the woman stared, frozen.
"So you've got some tricks," the apparent leader of the raiders grated, his voice low with fury. He'd finally taken Lin Yi seriously, his face darkening, veins bulging in his forehead. "You'll regret this."
"Regret? The world's too beautiful for that. You talk about death like it's a hobby—don't you get tired of being so gloomy?" Lin Yi shrugged, disdain dripping from his words.
The raiders' jaws tightened; they looked ready to spit blood. A Level 4, facing six determined Level 6s, and he was *taunting* them? Was he suicidal? Or did he truly believe he could take them all?
As confusion swirled, one raider stepped forward, his face draining of color. Unlike the others, his eyes were wide with terror, not anger. He pointed at Lin Yi, his hand trembling, voice shaking:
"It's him."