Immortal Divine Tribulation

Chapter 142: The Young Man in White

Tian Fan left the small village alone. He had already obtained the Wind Spirit Orb, and now, as he moved through the wild mountains and forests, four Spirit Orbs remained unaccounted for. He didn’t know where they were, but he could faintly sense their presence—it was a strange feeling, almost as if the Spirit Orbs were calling out to him.

Passing through a small town, he heard many pieces of news from the Northern Region, all related to the cultivation world. 

At the moment, he was sitting in a tavern, grabbing a bite before continuing his search for the next Spirit Orb.

“Young people these days are truly terrifying. There’s no place left for us old folks anymore!”

An old Taoist with a horsetail whisk sighed dramatically.

“Exactly. Take that guy from the Huangpu Clan, for instance—he’s terrifying. He defeated a powerful cultivator on the verge of entering the Primordial Unity Realm with just one hand. Truly fearsome. He’s hailed as the number one of the younger generation!”

“That’s debatable. Xiang Yufei from the Fist Emperor Sect has also emerged. His combat power is unmatched, and his mastery of the Five Element Fist has reached the peak of transformation. He’s definitely invincible among his peers!”

“You’re both wrong. In today’s world, who can compare to the Divine Son of the Sword Immortal Sect? His cultivation is now complete. This is his first real journey into the world, and he’s utterly unstoppable. No one can stand against him.”

“You’re all forgetting someone—the Son of God. If you ask me, he’s the true number one of the younger generation. He’s a real demon king, wiped out the Yin-Yang Sect completely! Who could possibly rival him?”

“True, I also support the Son of God. But ever since he destroyed the Yin-Yang Sect, he’s vanished without a trace. He’s become the target of many sects who want to challenge him, but no one’s been able to find him since.”

“Keep it down! If someone from the Sword Immortal Sect or the Huangpu Clan hears this, our heads won’t be enough to cover the cost!”

That last comment immediately silenced everyone. The Son of God had become a taboo topic in the Northern Region. There was even a kill-on-sight order for him. If he ever appeared, the Sword Immortal Sect and the Huangpu Clan—and others—wouldn’t let him go.

Tian Fan remained silent. When Xiang Yufei was mentioned, his eyelid twitched. He had never underestimated that man, and it turned out he was right—he was incredibly strong. He was likely on the verge of entering the Primordial Unity Realm as well.

“Waiter, the bill.”

Tian Fan stood up and said plainly. He had no interest in the current power struggles. In his heart, nothing in the world mattered more than Zi Ying.

Leaving the tavern, he headed straight for the deep mountains. He knew the remaining Spirit Orbs wouldn’t be in populated areas. From the faint sensations he had, those places barely had any signs of life—almost none at all.

“Come out…”

As he walked along a small trail, he suddenly stopped and spoke coldly to the empty space behind him. No one was there, but his gaze seemed to pierce through everything.

“Heh heh, as expected of the Son of God. You actually noticed me!”

A young man, also dressed in white, emerged from the void, grinning. He had a blade of grass in his mouth and a rogue-like demeanor as he looked at Tian Fan.

“Who are you? Why are you following me?”

Tian Fan frowned slightly. The man’s aura was strange. Even with Tian Fan’s strength, he couldn’t discern his true cultivation level.

“Me? Hmm… They call me the God of Slaughter. Cool name, right?” The young man smiled brightly, flashing a set of white teeth.

“Get to the point. I’m busy.”

“I want to fight you. I want to test my strength and see how strong the legendary Demon King Son of God really is. Come on, give me a shot?”

The young man in white was full of enthusiasm, his eyes glowing as if he’d found prey.

“Not interested. Go bother someone else,” Tian Fan replied, turning to leave.

“Hey, don’t go! Wait up—hey!”

Behind him, the young man tapped his foot lightly and leapt right in front of Tian Fan, surprising him a little. The movement technique was familiar—he felt like he had seen it somewhere before.

Staring at him for a moment, Tian Fan activated his Divine Cloud Steps and disappeared into the distance in an instant.

“D*mn it! That was sneaky!”

The young man in white cursed, leaving behind a shadow as he chased after Tian Fan.

Tian Fan moved at a terrifying speed, fast enough to blur the trees around him. Glancing behind, he frowned. With his current strength, he should easily outpace anyone below the Primordial Unity Realm, but this young man in white was actually keeping up.

“Huh? Did you see that flash just now?”

“I saw it too. Looked white to me.”

“Nonsense, it was black!”

“I swear I saw one black and one white!”

Passersby on the road murmured in confusion before shaking their heads and continuing on.

Tian Fan raced forward with his Divine Cloud Step, like a beam of light, nearly losing the man in black entirely.

“Ah!”

Up ahead, a woodcutter working atop a towering 20-meter tree slipped and fell. Mid-air, he screamed in terror. Tian Fan glanced back, then sighed softly and instantly shifted toward him.

Divine Cloud Step was unmatched. Just as the woodcutter was three meters from hitting the ground, Tian Fan caught him.

The man in white arrived right after and watched the scene with an odd look in his eyes.

“Thank you, thank you, young master. If you hadn’t saved me, my grandson would’ve lost his only support…”

The old woodcutter, nearly sixty, had black and white hair and a face full of wrinkles. His clothes were completely worn out, exposing much of his skin. With winter approaching, his attire was clearly inadequate—his situation was quite dire.

Looking at the old man, Tian Fan pulled out a piece of silver and handed it to him. The man froze in surprise.

“My savior, this won’t do. You already saved my life. I have no way to repay you. I can’t possibly accept your silver!”

The old man shook his head repeatedly. While the silver might mean little to a rich man, it was enough to sustain someone poor like him for years.

“Please take it, old man. Use it to buy something for the child at home.” Tian Fan smiled and stuffed the silver into the old man’s arms.

“Count me in too!”

The young man in white stepped forward and handed over a piece of silver—several times larger than Tian Fan’s.

“Th-thank you! Thank you both! You’re truly good people, thank you!”

The old man thanked them profusely, overwhelmed with emotion, and hobbled down the mountain.

“Well, well. The so-called cold-blooded Demon King, Son of God actually cares about an old woodcutter.”

“I didn’t expect the Holy Son of the Demon Sage Palace to care about a stranger either,” Tian Fan replied calmly, then walked forward.

“You know who I am? Hey, wait up!”

The young man in white was a little surprised but quickly followed.

Along the way, he buzzed around like an annoying fly, chattering non-stop in Tian Fan’s ear. No matter how Tian Fan tried to shake him off, he couldn’t.

“What’s that…”

The two moved quickly and soon reached the end of the path—only to find a sheer cliff in front of them, with no road ahead. 

Tian Fan peered down the mountainside, his brows furrowing.