All Chapters of The Cultivator's Revenge: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The final sentence of Lucien Dorne's report—the unexpected eyewitness… is one of us—hung in the air like a death sentence. Rayden stared at the Grand Elder of the Altair clan, all the confusing pieces of the puzzle finally beginning to point toward a single, unthinkable name. His patience was gone."I'm not interested in the details of your failure," Rayden cut in sharply, his voice cold and leaving no room for pleasantries. "I saw a young girl behind Lucien Dorne that night. Explain Kara."At the mention of her name, the mask of composure and control that the Grand Elder of the Altair clan had worn shattered into a million pieces. His wrinkled face hardened, filled with a suffering so deep and real that Rayden's own anger instantly subsided, replaced by a suffocating sense of dread. This was the core of his regret."Kara…" the Elder whispered, his voice hoarse as if the word itself was painful to speak. He closed his eyes. "She was the brightest star our clan had ever produced. A gen

"I am the real monster in this story."The trembling whisper hung in the air of the now-cold tea pavilion, a final, pathetic confession. The Grand Elder of the Altair clan bowed his head, his frail shoulders shaking with restrained sobs, his figure no more than that of an old man crushed by his own sins.Rayden was silent for a very long time.He felt no victory. He felt no satisfaction from seeing this cunning enemy broken. He didn't even feel an explosive rage. All he felt was the piercing cold of a bitter, complicated, and utterly exhausting truth.In that silence, his mind worked at lightning speed, reassembling all the pieces of the puzzle that had never quite fit.Kara Kalderis. Her cold yet probing demeanor when they first met. It wasn't arrogance; it was the wariness of someone who had learned to trust no one. The crippling pain that afflicted her, which he had assumed was just the result of a cultivation failure. Now he knew, it was the wound of the deepest betrayal, inflicte

The Altair Elder's final warning still echoed in Rayden's ears, leaving a cold trail of paranoia. The old man hadn't waited for a reply. He had pushed the dull jade disc across the table in a gesture of finality."My family's debt, both to the Kalesvaras and to my granddaughter, can never be fully repaid," he had said, his voice filled with weariness. "Consider this the first interest payment."He had explained briefly. The disc was a Spatial Key, a single-use ancient artifact. Its sole function was to open a temporary gate to the border of the Nebulon Expanse, the hidden dimension where high-level cultivators like Brahma Angkara resided. It was the only way for Rayden to continue his hunt.Rayden had stared at the key, then at the old man. His goal was now clear, and the path before him, though perilous, had been laid out. He had taken the key without a word.***On the rooftop of his subterranean base, Rayden gazed out at Malora City spread below him. A new dawn was breaking, castin

Rayden looked at Goro, the giant of a man who loomed before him. The battle axe in the man's hand reflected the pale moonlight, seeming to thirst for blood. His coarse challenge still echoed off the rubble of the square.Faced with such a tangible threat, Rayden showed no emotion. He simply gave a slow nod, as if agreeing to a simple fact."You're right," he replied softly, his quiet voice a stark contrast to Goro's roar. "There is only one rule."Hearing such a dismissive answer, the veins on Goro's neck bulged. He felt insulted. "Good!" he roared. "Then die by your own rule!"“HAAA!”With a deafening cry, he charged. His burly body moved with surprising speed, each step shattering the already cracked ground further. He raised his massive axe high, channeling all of his strength and spiritual energy into a single vertical swing meant to cleave Rayden in two.The other gang leaders held their breath. Several took a step back, feeling the wind pressure from the devastating swing. This

Rayden looked at Alesia, an eyebrow slightly raised at her confident declaration. He picked up the local newspaper she had tossed onto the table. Its sensational headline—Mysterious Calm Settles Over Malora's Underworld—felt deeply ironic. He put the paper down, then looked back at Alesia, his amber eyes now filled with a sincere curiosity."Explain."That single word was the only stage Alesia needed. She smiled, no longer the smile of a model, but that of an impassioned strategist. She walked to the large map of Malora on the wall, sweeping her hand over it as if caressing a kingdom."All this time, you've been thinking about how to control these thugs," she began enthusiastically. "With rules, with taxes, with fear. But you see them only as subordinates. As a resource. You're wrong."She turned, her eyes flashing. "They aren't just a resource. They are a network. Every market thug extorting a vegetable vendor, every bartender in a grimy tavern pouring cheap beer, every bellhop in a