I Got Cheated On and Ended Up in A Beast World

Chapter 163: Chapter 163

His voice a low, smooth growl that vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. "You sold our young cubs to the shadow-wolf clan as mining slaves. You let our western granaries burn so the people would starve and look to your gold for survival. I am not murdering an elder tonight. I am executing a thief."

"Lies! Every word is a lie!" Elder Shen turned his head frantically toward the rows of lesser chiefs. "Are you all just going to sit there? Look at his warriors! He has brought a rebellion to our very hearth! Kill him! Whoever takes his head will receive half of the northern treasury!"

A few of the older chiefs, greedy for the promised gold and deeply loyal to Elder Shen’s coin, let out fierce roars.

They drew their heavy iron axes, their bodies expanding as they tapped into their mid-tier beast transformations, their fur bristling with raw energy.

"Protect the elder!" a large, one-eyed chief bellowed, lunging forward from the side row with his axe raised high above his head.

Wang didn’t even turn his body to face the attacker.

With a swift, fluid flick of his wrist, his sword cut through the air like a streak of silver lightning.

*Slash.*

The blade sliced cleanly through the heavy iron shaft of the chief’s axe, splitting the solid metal down the middle before continuing its arc across the male’s chest armor.

The thick steel plate shattered into fragments, and the one-eyed chief was sent flying backward into the stone pillars, coughing a dark spray of blood before collapsing onto the floor boards, unconscious.

The remaining chiefs who had taken a step forward instantly froze. Their breath hitched in their throats, their large hands shaking as they looked at the shattered iron axe resting in the dirt.

Wang’s strength was not just high; it was ancient. It was the pure, unfiltered power of the primeval bloodline that had founded the tribe centuries ago. So of course it would suppress these new bloodlines.

"Anyone else?" Wang asked softly, his golden eyes scanning the rows of warriors.

No one moved. The large hall went completely silent, save for the crackle of the wood in the iron braziers. The lesser chiefs slowly lowered their weapons, stepping back into the shadows of the walls, completely abandoning Elder Shen to his fate.

"Cowards! All of you are faithless cowards!" Elder Shen whimpered, his back hitting the stone rear of his high chair as Wang reached the top of the platform.

Wang stood right in front of the old male, his towering frame completely blocking out the light from the central braziers, casting a long, dark shadow over the elder’s trembling face. He raised his silver blade, the sharp tip pointing directly at the space between Elder Shen’s wide, terrified eyes.

"Where is the hidden master, Shen?" Wang asked, his voice calm, cold, and absolute. "Tell me who sits behind that screen, and I will let your soul core pass into the reincarnation cycle without burning it to ash."

"He... he won’t let me speak," Elder Shen whispered, his lips blue with terror as he looked past Wang toward the black silk screen hanging behind the throne. "If I tell you... he will rip my mind apart..."

Suddenly, a soft, dry chuckle came from behind the translucent black silk fabric.

The sound was small, almost fragile, like dead autumn leaves dragging across a stone path, but it instantly cut through the heavy pressure in the room, causing Wang’s ethereal tiger to give a sudden, warning hiss.

*Rustle.*

A thin, long-fingered hand reached out from the darkness behind the screen, pushing the black silk aside.

A male stepped out onto the high platform. He did not look like a beastman at all.

He was thin, slight of build, and dressed in the long, flowing gray robes of a human cultivator. His face was completely smooth, devoid of any fur or scars, but his skin had a strange, translucent quality that looked like old parchment.

His eyes were entirely black—no whites, no pupils, just two pools of deep, liquid ink that seemed to absorb the light around them.

"You have grown quite well, young tiger," the gray-robed cultivator spoke, his voice carrying a strange, double-layered echo that made Lin Wan’s old token inside Wang’s pocket vibrate weakly. "The last time I saw you, you were nothing but a small, whimpering cub hiding beneath your father’s bleeding form, that was when you were sent down to the lower realm, as pathetic as ever"

Wang’s golden eyes flared with a sudden, lethal fire, his fingers tightening around his sword hilt until the leather grip creaked. "It was you. You were the one who broke my grandfather’s spiritual core during the western ambush."

"He was stubborn, just like you," the cultivator said, a faint, mocking smile touching his pale lips. "He refused to hand over the ancient spatial map of the northern rifts. He thought a simple beast tribe could hold onto a treasure that belongs to the higher worlds. So, I had to remove him. And now, you have returned to finish his mistake."

"Who are you?" Wang growled, his beast aura expanding once more, the silver lines on his armor glowing with an intense white light.

"Names are worthless in the dark, young master," the cultivator whispered. He raised his right hand, a small, obsidian bell appearing between his thin fingers. The black metal of the bell was covered in faint, writhing purple runes that hummed with a chaotic, familiar energy.

*Clang.*

The moment the bell gave a soft ring, a sudden, massive wave of purple spiritual pressure exploded from his small frame, instantly expanding across the entire hall. It wasn’t the warm, predatory pressure of a beast; it was a cold, chaotic force that smelled of sulfur, dead stars, and old rot.

The young warriors who had surrounded the lesser chiefs let out sharp cries of pain, dropping their axes as they clutched their ears, their spiritual cores vibrating violently under the sound of the bell. Even Elder Chen staggered backward, his single hand gripping a pillar to keep his knees from buckling.

Wang felt a sharp, icy pain pierce straight into his chest core, his vision blurring for a brief second as the chaotic sound waves tried to disrupt his inner meridians.

He recognized this energy. It was the exact same dark, spatial frequency that had blocked his tracking talismans when he had tried to find Lin Wan in the lower rings.

This male wasn’t just a rogue cultivator; he was an agent of the higher realms, sent to destabilize the beast tribes from the inside.

"You are the one who blocked my talismans," Wang rasped out, forcing his legs to stay locked into the stone, his silver sword raised high as he fought down the chaotic vibration in his soul. "You helped them hide her."

"The female?" The cultivator’s black eyes turned toward him with a look of cold amusement. "She was never part of our design, young tiger. She was simply a convenient distraction to keep you away from this mountain while we finished securing the northern rifts. But it seems she has caught the eye of a much bigger predator in the upper rings. By now, Cassian has likely broken her spirit completely. She is gone, Wang. You have no one left to run back to."

The words hit Wang’s chest like a solid block of stone. ’The Sovereign. Cassian.’

The image of Lin Wan—her gentle smile, her soft hands, her dark eyes looking at him with trust—flashed through his mind, followed instantly by the terrifying thought of her locked inside the dark, bloody palace of the upper king.

The pure, unadulterated fury that had been building inside his soul for seven days finally broke through every single seal on his bloodline.

"Shut up," Wang whispered.

"What?" the cultivator blinked, his smile faltering.

"I told you to shut up!" Wang roared, his voice no longer human, no longer beast, but a terrifying, primordial sound that literally shattered the glass jars on the side tables.

*ROAR!*

The ethereal white tiger behind him did not just glow; it turned into a solid, massive storm of silver fire that wrapped entirely around his body. The dark steel plates of his armor cracked and expanded as his body grew two inches taller, his fingernails lengthening into four-inch claws of pure, blinding white light.

He didn’t use a sword form. He didn’t use a calculated human spell. He threw himself forward with the raw, savage speed of a hunting predator, his body turning into a silver blur that bypassed the distance between them in a microsecond.

The gray-robed cultivator’s eyes went wide with genuine shock. He frantically shook the obsidian bell, trying to unleash another wave of chaotic sound to blast the young tiger back.

*Clang! Clang!*

Wang did not dodge. He let the purple sound waves hit his chest full force, his silver beast fire burning the chaotic energy to ash before it could touch his skin. He reached out with his left hand, his sharp claws slicing through the defensive spiritual shield around the cultivator as if it were a wet spiderweb.

*Smash!*