Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty-Three: Walking Corpses

The words fell silent.

From a nearby thatched hut, a shrill, piercing scream erupted. Xiao Yu spun around—before her eyes appeared two monstrous figures, barely human in form, numbly crashing through the door as they limped toward her.

Their skin was purplish-blue, pupils milky white.

A foul stench clung to them, indescribable—like several dead rats soaked for months in a sour pig trough, that silent, warm-rotting odor fermenting in stillness.

Upon closer inspection, thick, white, writhing maggots could be seen slithering beneath their yellowish skin, like schools of tadpoles crawling through a ditch.

“These are… walking corpses?”

Xiao Yu’s eyes widened; from the two highly decayed flesh-masses, she faintly recognized their faces from life.

She had seen this young couple when entering the village—ordinary farmers, nothing remarkable, so she hadn’t paid them much mind.

But could a body rot this badly in less than a day?

What kind of dark art is this?

“Exterminate demons, purge evil, uphold the true path?”

Xiao Yu suddenly sneered: “Is this how you turn living people into walking corpses?”

“My heart is the heart of heaven, my will is the will of heaven—only my methods are the true path, only my Dao is the orthodox!”

Yin Gonghao replied coldly: “Outside me, all are heretical, all are demonic arts! Don’t you even understand that?”

Boom!

Dust flew!

The two walking corpses lunged forward, pinning Xiao Yu beneath them—the stench pressed against her face, so thick it made her dizzy and nauseous, threatening to vomit.

But the next instant—

Suddenly, a sharp hiss.

A rotting head spun through the air, rolled several meters along the ground, yellow-green fluid spilling everywhere; soon after, another head flew up, and the corpse slumped limply to the earth.

“Old bastard! Don’t you know my family are Biao masters?”

Xiao Yu was drenched in foul pus, some of it splashed into her eyes, yet she merely gripped her shears, a faint smile leaking from her lips:

“Even if you’ve learned a bit of heretical arts, what of it? Do you think I’ll beg you? Even if I die, I’ll tear off a layer of your skin!”

Her family had been Biao masters for generations—they possessed real martial skill. And Yangshan Daoist had, in moments of passion, used embryonic breathing to nourish her body several times.

In today’s world, where no Primordial Grand Master walks the realm, she could still barely be called a middling expert.

Yin Gonghao merely remained silent.

Xiao Yu snarled forward, seized his collar, yanked it down, and drove the shears into his chest and abdomen.

No resistance.

One strike, straight into the body.

Blood flowed down the shears onto her wrist, then dripped steadily onto her feet.

“How could it be this easy?”

A thought flashed through Xiao Yu’s mind.

Those who wield Daoist arts are at least Embryonic Breathers—yet shouldn’t Embryonic Breathers have bodies as hard as gold and iron?

But there was no time for careful thought now.

Xiao Yu stabbed Yin Gonghao another ten times, each thrust fueled by all her strength—blood spurted like a slaughtered pig during the New Year.

“Old thing!”

Xiao Yu’s face and hair were caked in blood; she finally bit down hard on Yin Gonghao’s neck, felt the crunch of his throat snapping, then released her teeth with satisfaction and shoved the corpse into the well.

“So… cultivators are this easy to kill? Ha! Hahaha!”

After a moment of stunned silence, Xiao Yu threw her head back and roared with wild laughter, staggering forward.

But around her—

The thick, porridge-like mist had not dispersed; instead, it grew denser, more oppressive…

She hadn’t taken more than a few steps—

Suddenly, her body trembled, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Ahead, on a red wisteria wood funeral chair, Yin Gonghao—already dead—sat calmly upright, hearing her footsteps, too lazy to even lift his eyes.

“Still biting with your teeth? Truly canine.”

Xiao Yu said nothing; she lunged forward, pinning the red wisteria chair and Yin Gonghao to the ground together.

When she rose again, blood-soaked, another pile of shattered remains lay on the ground.

She spat venomously onto the ruins.

Looked up.

As expected.

Before her stood another Yin Gonghao…

This time, the old man with long eyebrows hanging to his cheeks finally lifted his eyelids, glancing at her with cold indifference. His figure was tall, slender, upright as an iron cliff on a mountain peak—his gaze carried a chilling malevolence and demonic intent.

Xiao Yu’s gaze met his, and instantly, a killing intent surged within her, impossible to suppress, drilling into her mind, urging her hands to slaughter every living being in the Nine Provinces and Four Seas, tear them all to shreds!

“So, you can’t bear it yet? The real show’s just beginning.”

Yin Gonghao nodded slightly, his expression half-approving, half-regretful.

He didn’t move—yet around him, countless screams erupted.

Doors burst open; wave after wave of walking corpses surged forward, wriggling with live maggots, stench rising like a storm—even miles away, the odor was unmistakable.

“So you turned the entire village into walking corpses.”

No wonder the village was as silent as a grave—no voices, because every soul here was already dead!

Whether young or old, male or female, all had been unknowingly transformed into walking corpses by this man!

“Come, let me see how mad you are!”

Yin Gonghao chuckled:

“This trip’s been unlucky—I haven’t met a single worthy disciple. Tian Buqi’s talent is too poor, his temperament unpleasant. Yours isn’t much better either—but for some reason, I’m drawn to your mad-dog look…”

The rest of his words—

Xiao Yu could no longer hear.

A tide of walking corpses, dense as a flood, swallowed her whole; though she fought fiercely, severing several heads, two fists could not withstand four hands—she slipped, and was soon pinned to the ground.

The corpse crushing her had the face of a simple, honest farmer—his belly split open, revealing countless gray-black organs.

“It’s you?”

Xiao Yu recognized this man who had once given her a bowl of wheat rice, and whom she herself had killed.

“Roar!”

The corpse gave no reply.

It simply opened its mouth and bit down hard with yellowed teeth.

…

…

Flesh and blood flew.

Yin Gonghao watched it all with cold detachment—even as Xiao Yu’s neck was seized in a corpse’s jaws, he showed no intention to intervene.

Suddenly, his expression shifted; he turned toward the southwest sky.

There, a sharp, peerless emerald-black aura slashed through the void, transforming into a brilliant, sky-splitting rainbow racing straight toward him.

“Is that the Primordial Demon Sect’s Youhuangjiuhuadadun ?”

Yin Gonghao sneered, then his own body erupted into a dazzling river of starlight and aurora, shooting skyward—within an instant, he easily intercepted the emerald-black aura, trapping it.

He spoke no further.

He extended a hand of magic power and gripped hard!