Jocelyn Grant hadn’t expected them to attack just because they said they would. She was furious. ’What is wrong with these men? Or is it... has my charm faded? Shouldn’t they be crawling to me like dogs with just a wave of my hand?’

"You’re all in league with that bitch Celeste Grant! If you don’t want to live, then go die!"

If she hadn’t cursed, things might have been fine. But the moment she did, the Demon Cultivators all turned to her, their eyes filled with vicious anger.

"How dare you insult our Lady."

"You little bitch."

"Hall Master, beat her to death!"

"Looks to me like she’s courting death."

"Kill her."

At that moment, Demonic Qi swirled around the Demon Cultivators.

They looked sinister and terrifying.

Jocelyn Grant felt their gazes on her. And because she felt their fierce protectiveness of Celeste Grant, her eyes turned red with jealousy.

Damon Grant cackled.

"You really are courting death."

Jocelyn Grant’s face was furious. "You’re the ones who should be dead!"

At that moment, powerful auras erupted from both Damon Grant and Jocelyn Grant. Immortal Spirit Qi and Demonic Qi radiated outwards, and the pressure from their Golden Core Stage auras forced everyone present to hastily retreat a great distance.

"So strong."

"Fall back..."

The instant they retreated, Jocelyn Grant and Damon Grant had already clashed. The sharp clang of Weapons rang out as their two forces collided.

In just a moment, Jocelyn Grant was sent flying by a direct hit from the Iron Ball he swung. Damon Grant’s figure flashed behind her in an instant, and he smashed the Iron Ball in his hand toward her back. Jocelyn Grant fell to the ground, vomiting blood.

"You’re not so tough."

"Listening to you talk so tough, I thought you could take a punch. I even used a bit more force, but I didn’t expect you to be this weak."

He walked over, grabbed Jocelyn Grant, pried her mouth open, and forced an Elixir Pill down her throat that sealed her Cultivation.

Seeing Jocelyn Grant captured, the expressions of the Immortal Sect Disciples changed. The smiles on their faces instantly froze.

"Junior Martial Aunt!"

"Let our Junior Martial Aunt go!"

Sean Lockwood’s expression was also grim.

"Jocelyn."

"Let her go."

Damon Grant glanced at Jocelyn Grant and signaled his men. "Tie her up and take her back for the Lady to deal with. As for the rest... they don’t look like they’re worth much. Why don’t we just kill them all."

"How dare you! We are disciples of the Primal Heaven Sect, the leader of the Seven Great Celestial Sects!"

"That line again. I’m sick of hearing it."

As he spoke, he waved his hand, swinging the Iron Ball and hurling it toward them.

"No!"

In that instant, a female cultivator appeared before him, standing directly in front of the others. She stretched out her hand, ready to face death.

Damon Grant yanked on the chain, and the Iron Ball stopped just an inch from the female cultivator’s face.

Pulling back his hand, he swung the Iron Ball up and rested it on his shoulder. He glared at the person and cursed, "The hell are you doing? You got a death wish? Who are you? Another one courting death."

The female cultivator standing in front of the Immortal Sect Disciples was Rowan Forrest.

She had just been passing by and came over to see what the commotion was. At a glance, she saw the man she’d been longing for. But before she could even feel happy, she saw him in a conflict with disciples from her own Sect.

"And who the hell are you?"

Damon Grant didn’t recognize her.

When he asked, Rowan Forrest blushed.

’He’s asking who I am.’

’He’s actually asking for my name!’

Rowan Forrest stepped forward.

"H-Hello."

She said, looking at him, but then hesitated, at a loss for words.

Damon Grant looked completely baffled.

’Is this woman sick or something? Why else would her face be as red as a baboon’s ass?’

"I am the daughter of Primal Heaven Sect elder William Forrest. My name is Rowan Forrest. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

’A Primal Heaven Sect elder, I’ve heard of them.’

’But this Rowan Forrest... I don’t know her. Wait... that name sounds familiar.’

It was before the Lady and The Exalted One’s wedding. A few of his brothers had mysteriously told him that a certain female cultivator had a crush on him, and that this was her name. They had even given him her "phone number" at the time.

But Damon Grant had just listened without believing a word of it. Since he couldn’t remember anyone by that name, he’d always assumed his brothers were just messing with him.

He sized up the female cultivator before him.

’So small.’

’So weak.’

’But... she’s actually pretty good-looking.’

’No, no... This female cultivator is from an Immortal Sect. Being pretty is useless. This must be a honey trap. I’m not falling for it.’ He took a step back, not even sparing her a glance.

Damon Grant waved his hand and ordered directly, "Men, tie all these people up and haul them away." He then turned to Rowan Forrest, who was standing not far from him. "As for you, go get Spirit Stones to ransom them. Except for these two eyesores. The rest are two thousand Spirit Stones per head."

Rowan Forrest raised her hand.

"It used to be one thousand Spirit Stones."

Damon Grant sneered at her. "So what if the price went up? The price of pork at the market has gone up, so isn’t it reasonable for us to raise our prices?"

’Pork?’

The Immortal Sect Disciples felt like they were about to cough up a mouthful of old blood. One of them couldn’t bear the humiliation and directly spat out blood before fainting.

A nearby Demon Cultivator rolled his eyes. "Their mental fortitude is way too weak."

Rowan Forrest nodded. "Alright, that seems quite reasonable. For this many Spirit Stones, I don’t need to go back to the Sect. I have them on me now."

With that, she took out a top-grade spirit stone.

"Here, this is their ransom."

Damon Grant looked awkward.

Her full cooperation left him with no sense of accomplishment. Still, he said, "I’ll give you credit for being sensible."

He reached out, took the Spirit Stone, and put it away. Pointing at the Immortal Sect Disciples, he said, "The ransom’s been paid. You can all scram now."

At this, they looked at Jocelyn Grant and Sean Lockwood.

"What about our Junior Martial Uncle?"

"And our Junior Martial Aunt."

Damon Grant pointed at Jocelyn Grant, who was being held by his men. "Not those two. We’re taking them back for our Lady to deal with."

Another Demon Cultivator nodded. "That’s right. This woman dared to curse our Lady. It’s a mercy we haven’t ’offed’ her already. If you ask me, we should just throw her in the mines. She’s an eyesore."

Jocelyn Grant was fuming with humiliation and rage.

"Let me go!"

"Was I wrong? Celeste Grant is a bitch! A vicious woman like her should have died long ago."

The moment the words left her mouth, the Demon Cultivator holding her slapped her across the face several times. SLAP! SLAP!

"Still running your mouth when you’re about to die? You’re courting death."

SLAP! SLAP!

"AHH..."

"Stop!"

"You’re the one we’re hitting!"

Sean Lockwood was anxious.

"Jocelyn... Let her go! If you have a problem, take it out on me!"

Damon Grant was also furious now.

"Oh-ho, what a deeply devoted couple of dogs. In that case, you can share the fortune and the hardship together. Men! Break one of their legs and throw them into the mines to dig. And remind the brothers at the mines to give them a ’warm welcome.’ We’ll wait for the Lady’s decision after I report to her."

Rook and the others were fiercely loyal to Javier Sinclair and Celeste Grant—the die-hard kind of loyal.

’Daring to curse their Lady.’

’First, let them suffer a bit.’

He waved his hand.

Before Rowan Forrest could stop them, Jocelyn Grant’s and Sean Lockwood’s legs were broken with a sickening CRACK. The two of them let out bloodcurdling screams.

"Throw them in the mines!"

Rowan Forrest took a step back and let out a hiccup.

She was probably a little scared.

Damon Grant shot her a vicious glare and said, "Still here? Want me to break your legs too?"

Rowan Forrest: "..."

’I like him even more now.’