Chapter Seventy-Nine: Not Human After All (Part One)

The three of them hid to the side, watching in hushed silence.

The mysterious master managed to withstand the opponent's forceful blow with nothing but his body, not even resorting to any spells.

If it were a human body, it would have to be an upgraded version of the Supreme Golden Body Technique, or at the very least an immortal art, to block such an attack. Otherwise, it would be impossible— even a martial cultivator would need martial talismans to augment their strength, speed, and defense.

To block it with mere flesh? Was this fellow perhaps a stone spirit?

Xu Cheng secretly thought to himself that only a stone spirit, and a supreme divine stone at that, could explain such a feat.

“What exactly are you? Why is your body so impenetrable?” the expert from the Xia Dynasty, who had been locked in a fierce contest, could not help but roar.

“Hahaha! You little minnows think you can kill me? It’s time I got serious!” the mysterious master, defending himself with only his body, was shrouded in a dark green aura that soon merged into his flesh.

His frame swelled steadily until he became a giant over three meters tall, muscles like cast iron.

After such prolonged struggle, having exhausted all their trump cards, their foe had yet to show his true power— a humiliating predicament.

“Enough! Heaven bless the Martial Emperor! Yellow Dragon Divine Fist!” one of the Xia cultivators unleashed his ultimate technique, infusing it with the imperial aura of Martial Emperor Xia Hao and the mysterious power of the Transforming Dragon Immortal Art, delivering a blow of unparalleled might.

Yet, in the next instant, they were stunned— the man before them blocked the attack with his body alone, using no spells nor martial arts.

“No! Impossible!” the Xia cultivators shouted in unison, making to flee. They could hardly believe that even after fusing their seven bodies, they had only forced their opponent to reveal his true form, and still he had not used his full strength. How could they possibly fight now?

“Last time you ran away— and now you return? You really don’t know what death means!” the formidable master’s voice turned hoarse, his aura strange and hard to describe.

It resembled the black-red mist of fiends, yet it was not, instead flowing dark green.

Despite his somewhat slower speed, for the exhausted Xia cultivators, even a slower pursuer was no less than a reaper on their heels.

“Do you really think you can run so fast?” he said, abruptly halting and inhaling sharply.

Those Xia cultivators, nearly free, were sucked backward by his breath, and caught in his iron grip— all seven bound together, unable to separate.

The mysterious one bit into one’s neck, and a sickening “glug glug” sound followed as he drew out the man’s blood.

In the blink of an eye, the Xia cultivators had their vitality, blood, even their souls devoured by the master, leaving behind only a fused, grotesque body that crumbled to ash.

Against such a master, direct confrontation was out of the question, and as Xu Cheng thought to retreat, the three-meter-tall giant blocked their way.

Yan Mengdie could rival him in stature, but lacked his intimidating presence.

With a trace of blood still at the corner of his mouth, the monster seized Xu Cheng and the others from the darkness conjured by their Underworld Stealth Art— a feat unheard of.

“Senior, we bear the same grudge against those soul-form cultivators as you. Who would have thought they’d fall by your hand?” Xu Cheng said hurriedly, hoping the man would spare them.

“Oh? Is that so? You look to me like you planned to play the mantis stalking the cicada, only to be the oriole behind,” the master saw through Xu Cheng’s intentions at a glance.

“We had old scores with those Xia cultivators and thought you might not be their match, so we meant to help you take them down. We never imagined your prowess— defeating them with just your flesh!” Xu Cheng praised without missing a beat, though as a messenger of the underworld, shame was not his concern.

“You’re a clever one. I’ll take it that you were here to help— I’ll let you go for now. But you, messenger of the Yellow Springs, to have obtained the projection of that coffin— fortune has truly favored you!” the master’s first words put their hearts at ease, but the latter half made them tense again, fearing he might seize the coffin.

“No need to be nervous, messenger of the Yellow Springs. We all walk the edge between life and death,” the mysterious one said, then stepped into the moonlight.

His face, previously obscured, was revealed in the cold, silvery glow.

He had a pair of crimson eyes and four sharp fangs in his mouth.

He was… he was like the legendary zombie.

“As you guessed, I am a zombie— a body untouched by all things,” he confirmed, and Xu Cheng felt an enormous weight lift from his heart.

The Ancestor Shamans, too, cultivated neither soul nor spells, so this zombie’s lineage was akin to theirs.

Ordinary zombies arose when a person’s soul left their body, which was then buried in grounds steeped in yin energy, eventually transforming as that energy accumulated. The earliest zombies, the White-Furred, were mindless and feared humans and animals. Over time, they became Black-Furred, then Green-Furred, then Red-Furred, then Bone-Immune, and finally evolved into the Drought Demon.

The zombie before them possessed intelligence— clearly, he had reached the level of the Drought Demon, transcending reincarnation and the cycles of the Three Realms and Five Elements.

“I understand. But, senior, why have you stopped us?” Xu Cheng asked quickly.

“Don’t be fooled by my strength— I’ve suffered mortal wounds. If not for the zombie body’s resilience, I’d have turned to dust long ago. I have only one request: when this body perishes, protect my true spirit as it reincarnates. I know you have this power! Of course, you’ll be well rewarded,” the figure continued.

To think he was about to reincarnate— Xu Cheng promptly asked, “When, senior?”

“In the next few days. When the time comes, I’ll find you,” answered the zombie, then vanished.

Zombies cultivate neither soul nor spell; when the body is destroyed, only a wisp of true spirit remains, more fragile than any soul. If Xu Cheng was the least bit careless, it would be utterly annihilated.

Since he’d said he would come, there was no point in staying longer.

With that, Xu Cheng led Yan Mengdie and Chrysanthemum back to Wuta Town.

There were still quite a few Xia Dynasty officials below the soul-form level remaining in town, so Chrysanthemum purged them all in one night.

All in all, the trip was not without its gains.