The Chen family main hall was a fortress of arrogance. Its pillars carved with dragons, its ceiling painted with victories of ancestors who had crushed countless rivals. Tonight, the hall glowed with golden lanterns as the family gathered for a grand feast.
Military officers boasted of campaigns, cultivators drank and laughed, and the younger generation flaunted their pride. None of them knew it was their last supper.
---
The Patriarch's Rage
At the head table, the Chen Patriarch slammed his fist against the lacquered wood. His veins bulged, his face twisted in rage.
"Our elders—slaughtered like pigs! Our youths—broken in the streets! Who dares touch my Chen family?! Do they not know we are backed by sects, by the empire's army itself?!"
His aura surged, a Peak Core Formation presence shaking the dishes and shattering cups. "I'll drag their souls through fire for eternity!"
Around him, officers and cultivators roared in agreement.
"Crush them!"
"No one dares touch us and live!"
---
The Farmer Appears
Then a voice drifted through the hall. Calm, mocking.
"…Wow. That's really cliché."
The air froze.
Lai stood in the very center of the hall, straw hat shadowing his eyes, plain farmer's robes stained faintly with soil. None had seen him enter. None had sensed his arrival.
But he was there.
And with him came silence.
---
Carnage Among Cabbages
The Chen Patriarch snarled, his killing intent exploding. "Who are you?! How dare you step into my Chen family's sacred hall!"
Lai ignored him. Instead, he raised his hand. With a flick of his finger, the dishes on the table transformed. Plates of meat turned into blood-red cabbage leaves, floating in the air.
The leaves began to spin. Razor-sharp.
In an instant, the hall became a slaughterhouse.
A leaf sliced through a young heir's throat, spraying blood across the table. Another cut down three servants in one sweep, their bodies falling apart in pieces. Screams erupted as the once-celebratory feast turned into a massacre.
Officers drew weapons, cultivators summoned qi techniques, but none could withstand the storm of floating cabbage blades. Their armor shredded like paper, their protective barriers ripped apart, their bodies reduced to mincemeat.
Blood poured down the marble steps, staining the clan's proud banners crimson.
---
The Patriarch's Terror
When the slaughter ended, only one remained standing—the Patriarch himself.
He trembled, surrounded by the mangled remains of his family. His pride, his arrogance, his lineage—all cut to pieces before his eyes.
Lai walked toward him slowly, each step echoing in the deathly quiet hall.
"You said you were backed by sects. By the empire." Lai's voice was calm, almost kind. "And yet… what did that do for you tonight?"
The Patriarch screamed, unleashing every ounce of his qi, a desperate strike that could shatter mountains.
Lai raised one hand. "Paralyzed."
The Patriarch froze, unable to move, sweat pouring down his face.
"No…" he whispered. "You don't understand… The Chen family has roots across the realms! You can't kill us all!"
Lai's eyes narrowed, cold and merciless. "Watch me."
He stepped forward, tearing off the man's arm, then his leg, blood gushing across the jade tiles. The Patriarch howled, his voice breaking, but still Lai continued—removing limb after limb with terrifying precision.
At last, only a mangled torso remained. Lai knelt, staring into the man's horrified eyes.
"Every Chen. Every last drop of blood. Across every world."
He snapped his fingers.
---
Extermination
Across the mortal world, across sects, across distant planets—every cultivator, every merchant, every soldier bearing the blood of the Chen family collapsed.
Some fell mid-battle. Others died at their desks. A few dropped dead in their sleep, never knowing why.
One by one, millions of lives snuffed out in silence, erased from the multiverse.
Back in the hall, the Patriarch choked on his own blood, eyes wide with terror as he realized what had happened.
Then Lai whispered one final word:
"Die."
And the last of the Chen Patriarch's soul dissolved into nothing.
---
Cliffhanger
In the Imperial Capital, a storm of reports flooded the palace.
The Chen family—annihilated. Elders, officers, distant relatives—all gone.
The Empress sat upon her throne, her expression calm but her heart troubled. Advisors knelt in fear, awaiting her judgment.
"Your Majesty," one said, "the Chen line is… no more."
The Empress closed her eyes. "So. Even bloodlines can be erased."
Opening them again, her gaze sharpened. "Prepare my carriage. I will visit Fallen Town myself."
---
⚡️ End of Chapter 8 ⚡️
Aftermath in Fallen Town
The Chen family compound was silent. No laughter, no arrogance, no footsteps—only the stench of blood and the echoes of slaughter.
When dawn broke, whispers began to spread through Fallen Town. Merchants noticed the once-bustling Chen guards missing from the gates. Servants who had escaped punishment cautiously approached, only to find mountains of corpses.
Word spread fast.
"The Chen family… they're all dead."
"Not just dead. Erased."
"Someone slaughtered them in a single night…"
Some villagers wept—not out of grief, but from relief. For decades, the Chen clan had extorted, enslaved, and terrorized mortals. Farmers lost daughters, merchants lost sons, soldiers were conscripted and thrown away—all for the Chen family's pride.
Now, their oppressors were gone.
But instead of celebration, the town was gripped by fear.
Because they knew who had done it.
They remembered the quiet farmer who had come into town. The one whose disciple, a mere mortal boy, had defeated Chen youths. The one whose strange companion had torn apart cultivators. The farmer who smiled while saying chilling words.
That farmer.
None dared speak his name aloud. They only whispered behind closed doors:
"He… he killed them all."
"A farmer… dressed in rags… turned the Chen clan into minced meat…"
"If he wanted, he could erase us just the same."
Children were hushed whenever they asked questions. Merchants swore never to mention his face in public. Even the mayor of Fallen Town bowed toward the distant farmlands each morning, lips trembling as he muttered prayers.
The Chen family's death did not bring freedom.
It brought silence.