Under normal circumstances, the Corpse Liberation Immortal Body would take at least two days to drain away one's lifespan.
Yang He could feel the Nuwa Statue invisibly absorbing his lifespan. Even if he managed to survive, his cultivation as a Daoist initiate would likely never improve again.
So he had to die!
But he had to die for a worthy cause!
Yang He stared fixedly at the old stonemason as the Pupil Ghost once again attached itself to his ghost hand.
With a toss of the Copper-Coin Sword, the ghost hand caught its hilt. The incomparably dense yin energy stained the coins blood-red, while eyes covered the blade.
"Become immortal!"
A bloody wind rose from nowhere.
The living immortal was too fast—even Yang He could not track it.
Yet Yang He knew the living immortal's target had to be the old stonemason. If it could not interrupt the carving of the Nuwa Statue's eye, all their efforts would be wasted.
The living immortal appeared at the mountain gate, its palms pressed together and its face filled with compassion.
The old stonemason was already skin and bones. His remaining Yang Fire flickered faintly; only faith kept him from breathing his last. The statue's left eye had begun to take shape.
"Become immortal!"
The living immortal's upper and lower jaw opened half a meter wide, and chanting drifted from its pitch-black mouth.
"If it sheds forty-nine human skins, could it truly become a Buddha on the spot?"
Yang He cursed under his breath. Just as the living immortal swallowed the old stonemason whole, the Copper-Coin Sword swept across its ankle as though it had anticipated the move.
Perhaps the Copper-Coin Sword could not harm the living immortal's body after it had shed its skin, but its bloated outer hide posed no resistance