Chapter 497: Ancestors

Mo Hua used his spiritual sense to communicate with the Spirit Pivot Array, controlling the Corpse King, and instantly sensed three competing yet coexisting dominion forces within the Corpse King's body.

One was the common corpse-controlling method used by corpse cultivators, mediated by the Corpse-Control Bell.

Another was the dark array corpse-controlling method, centered on the Spirit Pivot Dark Array.

The third was Mo Hua's own setup: the orthodox, Grade-One Twelve-Emblem Spirit Pivot Ultimate Array's Spirit-Dominating Technique.

These three forces formed a pincer formation, mutually opposing each other; for now, none could fully dominate the Corpse King.

Mo Hua was slightly disappointed.

He had intended to fully control the Corpse King, command all Iron Corpses, ally with Zhang Quan to kill Lu Chengyun, then turn around and kill Zhang Quan.

Kill with another's blade, one corpse, two deaths.

But now with three powers contending, Mo Hua had no confidence he could overpower the Corpse-Control Bell and the Spirit Pivot Dark Array in the short term and fully dominate the Corpse King.

Still, this was within his expectations.

Mo Hua did not force the array to dominate the Corpse King.

If one strike failed and didn't kill Lu Chengyun, it would alarm the enemy and expose the methods he had planted on the Corpse King.

He couldn't control the Corpse King, but he could control the Iron Corpses.

Like Lu Chengyun, he began indirectly controlling the Iron Corpses through the Corpse King.

Within the altar, there were twenty-four Iron Corpses.

Zhang Quan controlled eleven; Lu Chengyun controlled thirteen.

Using the Spirit Pivot Array on the Corpse King's heart meridian, Mo Hua secretly covertly transferred part of Zhang Quan's and Lu Chengyun's controlled Iron Corpses into his own control.

Mo Hua's methods were subtle.

Lu Chengyun and Zhang Quan were locked in mortal combat, so neither noticed that some of their Iron Corpses had "defected."

Beneath the altar, within the Ten Thousand Corpses Array.

Lu Chengyun held the upper hand, forcing Zhang Quan into steady retreat.

Zhang Quan struggled to hold on, his wounds deepening, his controlled Iron Corpses showing signs of collapse.

Lu Chengyun sneered and began commanding his Iron Corpses to join him in surrounding and attacking Zhang Quan, determined to kill him and eliminate any future threat!

Zhang Quan must die!

On this earth, only he could control the Corpse King!

In Lu Chengyun's gaze, cold light flared intensely, and the power of his swordlight surged.

Zhang Quan, after his corpse transformation, had bronze skin and iron bones, barely blocking a few strikes—but one sword pierced his left shoulder; in pain, he exposed an opening, and another Iron Corpse punched him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Lu Chengyun pointed from afar, commanding the Iron Corpses to swarm and kill Zhang Quan.

Zhang Quan struggled to rise, but it was too late—he could only weakly shake the bell, summoning a few Iron Corpses to protect him.

But his blood qi was depleted and his wounds severe; he could summon only four Iron Corpses, far too few to hold back Lu Chengyun's dozen-plus.

In Lu Chengyun's calm gaze lay murderous intent.

His Iron Corpses' bloodlust surged, charging straight for Zhang Quan.

A few were blocked and locked in combat with Zhang Quan's Iron Corpses; the rest surged forward, faces twisted, jaws gaping wide.

"I'm going to die!"

Zhang Quan's heart and gall shattered.

Facing death, he mustered all his strength, slamming his palm to repel one Iron Corpse, then spinning to kick another away.

But several others had already lunged close, seizing his limbs, their long claws sinking deep into flesh and muscle, pinning him fast.

Another Iron Corpse's claws erupted, brimming with sinister corpse poison, striking straight for Zhang Quan's heart meridian.

One strike like this—piercing the heart meridian—and death was certain!

Zhang Quan's eyes bulged with terror, but no matter how he struggled, he was powerless.

Just as he was seized by utter dread, the Iron Corpse's claw meant to kill him suddenly halted.

The sharp tip hovered mere fractions of an inch from his chest.

He could even feel the sharp, cold, ancient aura of death.

Zhang Quan froze.

Lu Chengyun also paused.

What happened?

Lost control?

Surviving by a hair, Zhang Quan's terror subsided—he realized not just this one Iron Corpse, but several nearby ones had all stopped moving.

Though he didn't know why, Zhang Quan felt immense relief; he immediately rose, stepped back several paces, and escaped the encirclement of Iron Corpses.

Lu Chengyun frowned.

He shifted his spiritual sense, reactivating control over the Iron Corpses.

This time, the Iron Corpses obeyed his will without anomaly.

"What's going on…"

Control conflict? Or a flaw in the array?

Lu Chengyun couldn't figure it out, so he suppressed his doubts—his immediate priority was still to kill Zhang Quan.

Lu Chengyun commanded the Iron Corpses again, resuming their assault on Zhang Quan.

But what happened next still defied his expectations.

Each time an Iron Corpse was about to kill Zhang Quan, it hesitated for a moment, allowing Zhang Quan to escape.

After several such incidents, Zhang Quan realized it too.

These Iron Corpses were holding back.

Why?

Why does every time I'm in mortal peril, do I always survive?

Zhang Quan frowned in thought, then suddenly understood.

He got it!

The Iron Corpse spares my life at the last moment—there is only one reason:

It's the Laozu Sect!

In some unseen way, the Laozu Sect is aiding me!

Zhang Quan's mind raced.

This Corpse King was forged day and night through the ancestral Zhang family's bronze coffin and their inherited corpse-refining art.

Now Lu Chengyun seeks to use the Zhang family's corpses to kill this Zhang family heir.

The Laozu's spirit in heaven could not bear to watch, so at my moment of certain death, it lent me a hand—to preserve a single thread of Zhang family lineage.

Zhang Quan was deeply grateful; he immediately knelt toward the sky, bowing his head several times hard, and cried out:

"Disciple Zhang Quan thanks the Laozu Sect!"

This bow stunned Mo Hua.

He pondered for a moment, then caught on, inwardly grumbling:

You shouldn't thank the Laozu Sect—you should thank your "little" ancestor.

Seeing this, Lu Chengyun's eyes darkened with wariness, his heart tightening:

The Zhang family truly is a corpse-refining clan—they still possess such unbelievable methods, using the Laozu Sect to control the Iron Corpse.

He had never even heard of such a thing!

If so, Zhang Quan must not be allowed to live!

Lu Chengyun raised his slender sword; its light flowed like water, spreading like a curtain, his spiritual force fierce as he struck again at Zhang Quan.

Though Zhang Quan continued to retreat, his spirit surged.

"The Laozu Sect is aiding me! I will not die!"

Indeed, the Laozu's spirit in heaven protected him.

Every time he teetered on death's edge, the killer Iron Corpse would "fall ill," freezing in place for a moment.

Zhang Quan's face lit up with even greater joy.

Lu Chengyun grew anxious, his wariness toward Zhang Quan's "Laozu Sect" deepening.

He abandoned reliance on the Iron Corpse, instead using his own Dao arts and the superior sword in his hand to slowly wear Zhang Quan down, aiming to slay him!

But in his single-minded focus on killing Zhang Quan, he unknowingly exposed a vast opening on his back.

Mo Hua's eyes brightened sharply.

Now!

He stirred his spiritual sense, pulling the array's pivot; at the same moment, one of the Iron Corpses under Lu Chengyun's control suddenly "defected," pupils shrinking, eyes glowing blue, claws like wind, lashing out at Lu Chengyun's back.

This strike was fast, precise, brutal, and utterly treacherous.

The timing was perfect.

Lu Chengyun was utterly unprepared—completely caught off guard!

The Iron Corpse's claws pierced straight through his back, driving in sharply, then tearing—ripping his robe to shreds.

Mo Hua's scheme succeeded; he smiled faintly—but halfway through, he sighed, deeply disappointed.

Lu Chengyun, struck by the Iron Corpse's ambush, spat blood from his mouth—but showed no wound.

His back robe was torn away, revealing the silver-threaded soft armor beneath.

This silver-threaded soft armor was clearly a superior spiritual artifact.

The Iron Corpse's claws could not pierce this armor, could not harm Lu Chengyun's heart meridian—only the sheer force of the blow injured him.

Lu Chengyun was Foundation Establishment; such an injury meant nothing, let alone a killing blow.

Mo Hua was deeply regretful.

Lu Chengyun wiped the blood from his lips, his heart trembling with shock.

I nearly capsized in a ditch!

Without this silver-threaded soft armor, had the Iron Corpse's claws pierced my back, poisoned my body, and then faced Zhang Quan and the Iron Corpse together—I might truly have died today!

Eyes cruel, moves treacherous!

This Zhang family Laozu, whether man, corpse, or ghost, is truly a ruthless figure!

Or is the Zhang family's corpse-controlling art endowed with mysterious, unfathomable powers?

A chilling dread seeped into Lu Chengyun's heart.

Must end this swiftly—before more complications arise!

Lu Chengyun looked solemn, giving his all; the swordlight shifted abruptly, his spiritual force darkening into a faint black-gray.

Zhang Quan's face paled, "The Lu family's Opening Mountain Sword Art! You've cultivated it to this depth?"

Lu Chengyun smiled faintly, "You recognize this sword art?"

Zhang Quan looked solemn.

Lu Chengyun said calmly:

"The Opening Mountain Sword Art… I dug up the Lu family's ancestral graves, found it on a jade slip buried with one of their elders—I spent decades in bitter cultivation…"

Lu Chengyun held his longsword level; its qi split apart, sweeping left and right, aura fierce as if cleaving mountains and leveling plains.

Lu Chengyun said coldly: "To avoid drawing attention, I've never used this sword art before. Today, dying by it is a favor I grant you."

Zhang Quan's gaze turned cold; he gritted his teeth and said:

"Good. Today we'll see whether your sword art is stronger, or my corpse art is fiercer!"

The two of them were set against each other like fire and water—both to determine who was superior, and to decide life and death.

Mo Hua could not bear to listen any longer, and cursed Zhang Quan in his heart:

"Idiot, of course his sword art is stronger. Your corpse art is strong my ass—you can't even beat my little senior brother…"

"You're about to die and you still aren't thinking of running, fighting someone to the death here."

"The other guy has already brought out his trump-card sword art, and you still have no sense at all, still wanting to compete with him over who's stronger—truly useless mud that can't be propped up on a wall!"

"When he was gathering power to draw his sword, you should have run! What were you putting on?"

"Refining corpses all day long—did it stiffen up your brain too…"

This little ancestor Mo Hua, hating him for not striving, drenched Zhang Quan in a torrent of abuse in his heart.