All Chapters of The Cultivator's Revenge: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Rayden stepped through the marble gate, the worn soles of his shoes a stark contrast to the perfectly smooth surface. The guard's insulting words still echoed in his ears, leaving a cold trail in his mind."A mortal..." he mumbled to himself, a new label that felt foreign and painful. "An ant..."He began to walk down the wide main street of the city. This was a chapter of observation, a silent lesson in this new world. He felt gazes from everywhere.The cultivators who walked past him—elegant men and women in silk robes—cast fleeting glances. In those looks, he could see the same three-second process repeat itself: a moment of curiosity at the newcomer, followed by a swift judgment of his aura and attire, and ending with a subtle disdain before they looked away again.They didn't need to speak. Their pure spiritual auras, flowing steadily around them, seemed to scream their superiority. And his own aura, which in their eyes felt thin and polluted by the energy of the mortal world, be

"At least it's a roof," he thought bitterly. His eyes swept over the cramped, filthy room. This was ground zero. From here, the only way was up. "Now, information."The next day, he left the inn and began to map out his territory. The lower district was a living labyrinth, and he needed to understand its ecosystem. He finally found its center: a two-story building, larger than the others, with a roughly carved sign.[The Spider's Web.]The place was a mix of stale alcohol, sweat, and dried blood. It was filled with mercenaries showing off their bounties, hunters cleaning their weapons, and informants whispering in dark corners."Here, strength isn't displayed with silk robes," Rayden analyzed, his sharp eyes moving quickly, "But with scars on the face and a cold glint in the eye."He saw his target. At the rearmost table, an old man in strangely luxurious silk robes sat calmly, sorting through several scrolls. He was the spider in the center of his web.Rayden walked past him, stoppin

"An account?" the young attendant repeated, his voice hesitant as if the word felt foreign on his tongue. "Sir, with all due respect, this is the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, not a common bank in the lower district."He glanced at the plain black card on the silver tray, then back at Rayden. In his mind, a series of condescending thoughts spun rapidly. ‘This mortal is truly shameless. His aura is turbid, his clothes are plain. How dare he come here and make such a ridiculous request? Does he think this is a common tavern?’He was about to refuse more firmly, perhaps by calling the guards to remove this nuisance, but a quiet, sharp nudge from his more senior colleague silenced him. The senior attendant's eyes weren't on Rayden. They were fixed on a small symbol etched in the corner of the black card: a swirl of fire so fine it was almost invisible.The senior attendant's face, once calm and professional, turned ashen in an instant. His heart, which had been beating normally, suddenly be

“This…” she whispered, her normally steady and commanding voice now trembling like a leaf in a storm. “Impossible!”The golden light from the crystal bathed the room in divine warmth, reflecting utter disbelief across the manager’s face. The swirling sigil within it pulsed with such life, such ancient power, that it seemed to draw the very air out of the room.In Elder Fei’s mind, the dam she had built for fifty years finally broke. Her conviction, her cold professionalism, all washed away by the flood of memory. She saw again the face of her old Grandmaster—a man of kindness who could shake the heavens—holding that same token.She remembered her oath. Her vow to keep the Golden Hall faithful, to wait for the sign of the Heir’s return, no matter how futile that waiting seemed.For fifty long years, she had waited. Hope had decayed into duty, and duty into a hollow routine. She had faced arrogant nobles and powerful cultivators alike. She thought her heart had turned to stone.She was

Elder Fei’s warning hung in the quiet jade chamber like a veiled invitation to a long, deadly game of political chess.“Not all the halls will accept me?” Rayden repeated evenly, his tone devoid of any detectable concern. He met her gaze, and with a single sentence, overturned the entire board.“I don’t care for their acceptance.”Elder Fei froze. She had prepared dozens of scenarios in her mind. She was ready to explain in detail about the brutal Blood Hall under General Kaelus, the cunning Shadow Hall turned mercenaries, and the haughty Celestial Hall that looked down upon the rest. She had expected the Young Master to ask about power maps, allies, or leverage.‘Is he naive?’ she wondered. ‘Or does he see a battlefield I cannot?’“With all respect, Young Master, you must understand,” Fei urged, her tone urgent, trying to pull him back into the dangerous political reality. “The Blood Hall, for instance, would never submit to someone with a ‘mortal’ aura unless—”Rayden lifted his han