Chapter 8 Murderers Are Meant To Be Killed

"I lost you once.' He shouted in his mind to his regained spiritual meridian, 'But now that I found you again, I'm counting on you!' The mental shout was a commitment to action, a focus, and a way to absorb some spiritual energy with his spiritual meridian.

Ricky firmly believed that his regained spiritual meridian was not an ordinary one. Indeed, he suspected it might even be a top-grade spiritual meridian that the whole world had never seen before.

As both of his black eyes turned blood red, Ricky transferred the strength of his body to his right fist. Meanwhile, the reborn spiritual meridian inside him, started to absorb the spiritual energy from the area, as if it understood what Ricky had wished for.

"Whiz Fist!" Ricky roared out, and attacked with the same old method.

But this time, Ricky's Whiz Fist exploded like a bomb. The power he displayed looked no less than that of the Yellow Level at the advanced stage, rather than his true rank of intermediate.

The spiritual energy encircled Ricky, and formed an indistinct shadow of a tiger against the sky. The apparition growled, terrifying onlookers and driving them mad with pain as they clapped their hands fruitlessly to their ears.

'Could he really possess such enormous power?' They all wondered, as they talked about it amongst themselves as well. After witnessing the dramatic scene, the neighboring warriors were all shocked. They just looked at each other with disbelief and were as disciplined as an unruly mob at this point.

At the same time, the two emissaries from the Snow Sect also seemed surprised, gaping at the young man in astonishment.

Although the other warriors were confused, the two messengers knew what was going on. They could tell Ricky had completed the Whiz Fist power.

Every method was categorized by how skillful a warrior was. Skill, of course, required practice. They were ranked accordingly: minor and major achievement, completeness, perfection, and superbness.

An ordinary warrior could practice a method until he was moderately proficient. But to achieve greatness required a certain amount of perception.

Completeness could only be achieved by genius warriors. Perfection? No one but a genius boasting a natural understanding of the method could attain such a level.

But that kind of genius seemed nowhere to be found in the Snow Sect.

And the superbness level required pure genius with noble blood and extremely high perception, to climb to the peak realm.

But now, completeness of a cultivation method could be seen in a trash warrior who didn't even have a spiritual meridian.

The Lady in Black and the Red Messenger looked each other in the eyes, and both wondered, 'Who is he, really? This is impossible for someone with no spiritual power.'

But after some deliberation, the black clad woman made the decision that Ricky deserved a fine cultivation...

"Ha!"

With the burst of a deafening shout, Ricky stomped on the floor and left two deep footprints. Then he struck Avery again with a thundering blow.

Clash! Everyone could hear the crystal clear sound of bones shattering. The rush of force from the clash hit the crowd, sweeping the dust into mini-cyclones and forcing the crowd to shield their eyes from the grit.

By the time they could see anything, the scene before them made them doubt their vision.

Avery's right arm dangled uselessly like a broken branch—obviously, the bones in that arm were pulverized. To make it worse, Ricky's fist had burst through Avery's rib-cage, leaving him gasping for breath... He couldn't even feel the pain of his ruined arm.

"Uncle... uncle, help me!"

With a desperate look at Gilbert, Avery rasped out the words and used the last of his strength. After that, he breathed his last and died.

"No! Avery!"

Seeing that, Gilbert was so enraged that he immediately ran to Ricky like a crazy tiger.

"You little bastard, how could you?!"

Gilbert roared. He gestured, and his hands were encircled with blood-red spiritual energy. His palm seemed to crack through space itself, and in the blink of an eye, it was about to come crashing down on Ricky's head.

But before he knew it, Gilbert flew away like a kite, spitting blood from his mouth and rolling over a dozen times on the square, half dead and unable to stand. The Lady in Black coiled up her spiritual lash, a ghost of a smile on her face.

Ricky was relieved to see that.

Previously, the Lady in Black hadn't rejected him for lacking a spiritual meridian. Ricky guessed that she might see something promising in him.

And if he could deliver a genius performance, it would draw her attention further.

Now that the Lady in Black had made her judgement known, made it clear that he won the bet, she proclaimed, "I told you, anyone else who tries to interfere will die!" The woman squinted at Gilbert, who lay on the ground helpless, and snorted. Her hands were in the ready position, ready to strike again if need be.

At this critical moment, Nick, the leader of Nan Clan, stood up, and the words rapidly tumbled from his lips, "Gilbert was ignorant and foolish. Please do forgive him.

At least for his son, who is a new nominal disciple of innate spirits in your sect."

"Oh? Are you threatening me?" Hearing what Nick had said, the woman in black clothing sneered.

"No! Never!" Gilbert answered quickly, nervously, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Humph!" The woman responded with a snort, but didn't attack. Maybe it was out of disdain or that Nate was their innate spirits' new disciple.

"You're good!" She said casually to Ricky, turning to look at him.

"Thanks, Lady Messenger." Ricky said that respectfully, rubbing his right arm, which was quite painful at the moment.

'Finally!' He knew the crisis was over and he was safe, at least for now.

...

"So is Ricky making a comeback? He killed Avery, who was a full grade higher than him." The neighboring warriors started to talk about what just happened after recovering from the shock.

"Maybe. But it looks like we can't mess with him anymore."

"Not necessarily. Remember, he lost his spiritual meridian. No matter how hard he trains, he might not ever surpass the fifth grade of Skin Refinement."

...

"Ricky, you're one of us. How could you kill your family like that?" Nick suddenly asked Ricky in a somber voice. As clan leader, he had to say something, even if it was useless.

"Well, there is that matter of the bounty on my head. If you're so big on family, why do that?" Ricky sneered.

"And remember, murderers are meant to be killed!"

Waves of murderous intent, the killer instinct, could be felt emanating from Ricky. They shuddered instinctively.

"Ha, well said! But don't forget, you have to come back to the Nan Clan after your training," Nick sneered.

It was obvious that Nick was reminding Ricky that his father was still in their clutches.

Sure enough, up hearing that, Ricky's expression turned fierce and dangerous again.

But Ricky answered him at once, with almost the same tongue. "Remember, Mr. clan leader, life is full of ups and downs. Try not to paint yourself into a corner."

"Is that so?" Nick said in a cold voice hearing Ricky's remarks.

However, at this point, Nick's interest in fighting had somehow been blunted. For the firm resolute look reflecting from the young boy's eyes had made him fearful.

...

"We're done recruiting. We've seen enough. You have four hours to rest and pack your belongings, and then you go to the Snow Sect with us," the Lady in Black said to the newly recruited disciples coldly.