At that moment, a suffocating wave of demonic energy surged through the air, spreading like a black shroud over the surrounding area, shaking even the souls of the dead. From a distance, two mysterious elderly figures, silently watching, were visibly alarmed.
"This is bad. What kind of calamity has befallen us? Why has such overpowering demonic energy suddenly appeared in the tomb?" The elegant old man's face paled with anxiety.
"Could it be that some ancient demonic overlord has awakened? But we explored that tomb a year ago. Apart from two powerful iron-armored puppets, the only other thing inside was… a dormant thousand-year mystic corpse," muttered the elder in the grey robe, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Could there be a hidden mystery within the tomb? Or has some unforeseen change occurred? No, I must go check it out! I cannot stand idly by and watch as the disciples of Rainfog Manor face such peril," the elegant elder exclaimed, his expression shifting to one of determination as he flew swiftly towards the tomb.
"Brother Chu, wait! Don't be hasty. This might be a rare opportunity. It's likely that Daoist Fat Ghost is already facing a grave challenge inside. All we need to do is make a small adjustment to our original plan…" The grey-robed elder followed closely behind, a gleam of excitement flickering in his eyes as he conferred with the elegant elder.
Beneath the tomb, in the dimly lit stone hall, the terrifying voice carried waves of horrifying demonic energy, its oppressive force weighing down on the assembled cultivators. Their faces turned ashen, their foreheads beaded with cold sweat as if an invisible hand of death had gripped their throats, cutting off their breath and restraining their powers.
Yang Fan stood frozen in place. The mere presence of that overwhelming energy seemed to crush his soul, his blood turning to ice, while the spiritual energy within him shuddered in fear. Yet, though his essence trembled, he had not completely lost control.
Deep within his dantian, the strands of Netherworld Qi writhed in anticipation, trembling with an almost excited fervor, as if eager to be unleashed.
Soon, a cool, flowing energy surged throughout Yang Fan's body, accompanied by a faint mist of vitality, soothing even his trembling soul. In an instant, the suffocating pressure upon him was lifted by nine-tenths, and his body returned to normal. He exhaled deeply, but an unshakable shadow still loomed over him.
Only then did Yang Fan focus his attention on the heart of the grand hall, trying to discern the nature of the entity that had unleashed such terrifying power.
"A thousand-year mystic corpse..." he heard the fat-faced Daoist exclaim in a mixture of greed, dread, and excitement as he stared into the depths of the dark hall.
Now, Yang Fan saw it clearly.
In the deepest recess of the hall, there stood a headless corpse, towering over a zhang tall. Unlike the typical undead, whose bodies were decayed and grotesque, this corpse had a pristine, almost crystalline sheen. Despite a thin layer of dust covering its surface, its lustrous glow remained evident, making it resemble a finely carved jade statue.
But the most chilling aspect was the corpse's aura: tendrils of demonic energy pulsed rhythmically from its body, spreading across the land like ripples in a still pond.
"This is no mere thousand-year mystic corpse… it's a headless demon corpse!" Yang Fan's heart pounded with trepidation. How could a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator like the fat-faced Daoist hope to control such a fearsome entity?
Around them, the disciples of Rainfog Manor, especially those below the Spirit Condensation stage, were so paralyzed with fear that they couldn't even move. Their faces were as pale as ghosts, bodies trembling uncontrollably.
The fat-faced Daoist was the first to recover from the oppressive aura, followed closely by Yang Fan and Hu Fei. It took longer for the palace-robed woman and Chu Qiuran to regain their senses.
Yang Fan, standing at the back, regained his composure without drawing attention. His cautious nature kept him from making any sudden moves.
To his surprise, Hu Fei recovered even quicker than the palace-robed woman, despite her being in the mid-Spirit Condensation stage. His swift recovery was second only to that of the fat-faced Daoist and Yang Fan himself.
Just then, a low growl emanated from within the headless demon corpse, its body turning slowly as it cast a confused gaze around the room.
And suddenly, the overwhelming demonic energy that had permeated the hall began to dissipate.
The headless demon corpse wandered aimlessly around the hall, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the cultivators. However, the sound of its heavy footsteps reverberated through the chamber, each step sending shivers down their spines.
As the demonic energy faded, the disciples of Rainfog Manor finally began to recover. They exhaled deeply, though their bodies remained weak and trembling. Some even collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.
Clang! Clang!
Without warning, the two iron-armored puppets reactivated, their long halberds slicing through the air as they unleashed fierce gales of demonic energy, charging toward the group.
In an instant, the fat-faced Daoist's two Spirit Condensation zombies were torn apart by the puppets, their bodies severed into several pieces.
Still shaken by the lingering aura of terror, the others were slow to react, while the fat-faced Daoist's attention remained fixed on the headless demon corpse in the heart of the hall. His eyes flickered with madness and greed. The so-called "thousand-year mystic corpse" was an irresistible temptation to him.
It wasn't until the Daoist realized that his zombies had been destroyed by the iron-armored puppets that rage flared across his face. With a furious gesture, he slapped his storage pouch, summoning a black zombie shrouded in corpse energy.
This black zombie's eyes glowed with faint red flames, and it emanated a powerful aura far surpassing the Spirit Condensation stage. It extended a thick, blackened arm, effortlessly blocking the halberd strike with a loud metallic clang, sparks flying from the impact.
Yang Fan's gaze narrowed. This black zombie was clearly of Foundation Establishment level, its crimson eyes burning with an intimidating intensity as it met the iron-armored puppet's halberd head-on.
Just then, the palace-robed woman gave an urgent command, "Qiuran, lead the third-generation disciples back to the tomb's entrance. Hu Fei, stay and help me hold the rear."
"Yes, Auntie," Chu Qiuran replied, still shaken. She quickly gathered the disciples and retreated toward the tomb's entrance.
"Yang Apothecary, Zheng Apothecary… please come with us. It's too dangerous here, and those of us in the Qi Refining stage can't offer any assistance." Fear etched across their faces, some of the lower-ranked cultivators had to be dragged away in their panic.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
As the fat-faced Daoist, the palace-robed woman, and Hu Fei engaged the iron-armored puppets in battle, the Daoist turned to the group and barked, "If any of you dare to leave the tomb's entrance, don't blame me for being merciless!"
With a cold snap of his fingers, a green-eyed eagle, shrouded in black mist, flew from his storage pouch, hovering overhead to keep watch on the retreating group.
Yang Fan's expression darkened. The fat-faced Daoist was thorough in his methods, ensuring no one slipped away unnoticed. He glanced curiously at the green-eyed eagle, which, while not particularly strong, seemed intricately linked to the Daoist.
The group quickly retreated to the bone-strewn staircase near the tomb's entrance. Along the way, a malicious ghost appeared, but no one paid it any heed, though it did claim the life of a Qi Refining disciple.
"This tomb is truly terrifying. We haven't seen a single treasure, yet we've encountered so many deadly creatures…" Chu Yiyun muttered, staring into the depths of the tomb, his gaze filled with unease.
"Is there really no treasure in the tomb? If not, do we even need to stay here? Couldn't we just leave the Ghost Daoist behind? What's he going to do, kill us all?" one of the cultivators grumbled quietly.
"No, we haven't fully explored the main hall yet…" Chu Qiuran interjected suddenly. "Before we left, I used a spirit-eye technique to scan the area. There are still stone coffins and other strange things inside…"
Yang Fan stood calmly to the side, having already explored the hall thoroughly in his omniscient mode. What Chu Qiuran described was accurate, though Yang Fan had noticed no treasures in the depths beyond the two stone coffins protected by powerful restrictions.
At this moment, most of Yang Fan's attention remained fixed on the battle unfolding at the entrance to the stone hall.
The fat-faced Daoist had summoned his Foundation Establishment zombie, which was now holding off the fierce assaults of the two iron-armored puppets. Working in tandem with the palace-robed woman and Hu Fei, both of whom attacked from a distance, they soon gained the upper hand.
Yang Fan sighed inwardly. Despite their raw strength and demonic energy enhancements, the iron-armored puppets were overly sluggish, failing to capitalize on their true potential. They should have been able to overpower the fat-faced Daoist and his companions, but their lack of coordination allowed the humans to exploit their weaknesses.
As expected, it didn
't take long for the iron-armored puppets to collapse under the combined might of their enemies.
Bang! Bang!
The final blow came when the Foundation Establishment zombie unleashed a powerful surge of corpse energy that shattered the iron puppets' defenses.
The battle was over.
The fat-faced Daoist's gaze immediately returned to the headless demon corpse at the center of the hall. His eyes gleamed with unrestrained greed, ignoring the defeated puppets as if they were mere stepping stones on his path to power.
But just as he was about to approach the thousand-year mystic corpse, an earth-shaking explosion resounded from above, followed by a deafening roar that echoed throughout the entire tomb.