I Can See Through All Things' Information Chapter 1505 - 890: Overwhelming Resentment, Bone Mountain Blood Pool (Part 3)

Their desperate pleas were met only with the cold, mocking laughter of the robed figures.

The leader watched with a cruel smile blooming on his face as cultivators screamed, plunging into the Blood Pool, appearing to thoroughly relish the spectacle.

He licked his lips, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

"Scream, scream all you want. The more agonizing the screams, the thicker the resentment, and the higher the quality of our Heavenly Demon Pool will become."

The young disciple guffawed, chiming in, "These pathetic ants consider it an honor to contribute to the growth of our Black and White Temple."

Several disciples from the Black and White Temple erupted in hearty laughter, their cachinnations echoing across the desolate Bone Mountain.

However, their mirth was instantly extinguished.

The very space before them began to distort, and an invisible force descended, instantaneously encompassing the entire vicinity.

Those tens of thousands of cultivators, mere moments from oblivion in the Blood Pool, flickered out of existence as if abruptly consumed.

Their cries, their screams, their sobs—all vanished along with them.

Above the glistening Blood Pool, an unnerving emptiness now prevailed.

The robed figures stood dumbfounded.

The young disciple blinked, rubbing his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating.

Yet, above the Blood Pool, there was indeed nothing left.

Tens of thousands of souls had simply evaporated into thin air.

"Wh... what just happened?" he stammered, bewildered.

The leader’s face contorted in alarm. He spun around abruptly, unleashing his Divine Thought in a frantic scan of their surroundings.

Despite his most thorough search, he could detect no anomaly. It was as if those cultivators had never even existed.

"Who dares to trespass and sow chaos within the Black and White Temple's domain?"

The leader bellowed, a tremor of forced bravado lacing his voice.

Holding his elevated position, he was far from a simpleton.

Silently and completely erasing tens of thousands of cultivators from existence right under their noses was no feat for an ordinary individual.

Then, a figure materialized serenely before them.

Clad in a flowing blue robe, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

His features were strikingly handsome, his demeanor profoundly calm, yet his eyes held a chillingly sharp intent to kill.

It was none other than Lu Qing.

"Who are you?"

The leader demanded sternly, surreptitiously taking a step back while discreetly activating a Communication Talisman, hoping to summon aid.

Lu Qing dispensed with any formalities, uttering a single, damning sentence.

"You vermin shall all perish."

As he spoke, he unfurled his palm.

An immediate, overwhelming sensation of shrinking washed over the figures, while Lu Qing’s own form seemed to expand limitlessly.

He appeared to transform into a colossal giant, standing astride the world, gazing down at them as if they were mere insects.

They desperately tried to struggle, to escape, to fight back.

But they discovered themselves utterly immobilized. An unseen force held them captive, rendering even the slightest finger movement impossible.

Then, their consciousness plunged into darkness.

An excruciating pain, beyond measure, radiated from the deepest recesses of their Divine Souls.

It was an agony that defied description, akin to a thousand needles piercing their very essence simultaneously, or their entire beings being consumed by searing flames or boiling oil.

Piercing screams erupted from them, their voices cracking and shifting in pitch.

Lu Qing was employing the most brutal of Divine Soul techniques: forceful Soul Searching.

His own Divine Soul Power morphed into countless ethereal threads, violently piercing their minds and ruthlessly rifling through their memories.

Visions, like frames from a rapidly spinning lantern, flickered before him.

Their recruitment by the Black and White Temple.

Their indoctrination into the Devil Technique, which thrived on cultivated resentment.

Their methods of capturing cultivators far and wide, casting them into the Blood Pool, witnessing their agonizing struggles until only bare bones remained.

Even their perverse enjoyment of the entire process, their revelry in the suffering.

Scene after scene, event after event, unfolded with vivid clarity before Lu Qing’s eyes.

Lu Qing’s expression grew progressively more severe with each revelation.