Netherworld Ghost King

From the clothes on his body, Zhang Xuan could barely recognize the humanoid creature before him as Meng Changxi, the tomb robber who had ambushed them earlier.

Yet Meng Changxi was now utterly unrecognizable. His face was contorted, his lips stitched into a crescent, and a grotesque lump of flesh was embedded in his chest and abdomen.

His tattered scholar's robe was smeared with mud and blood. Most shocking of all, a human head the size of a fist could just be made out inside that fleshy lump.

The head had two faces: one with lowered eyes and a compassionate expression; the other with eyes wide open, bordering on madness!

The two-faced Buddha head slowly rotated, its compassionate and maddened faces appearing in turn, as though mocking everything before it.

Zhang Xuan and the monk were horrified. They could not imagine what brutal torment a living man had suffered in the time it took to drink a cup of tea to become this thing, neither human nor ghost.

"It's the Corpse Buddha!" the monk growled, his eyes brimming with wariness.

Meanwhile, high overhead, Falcon circled relentlessly, its long beak opening and closing as it delivered urgent warnings: "Disaster! Disaster! Demonic aura surges to the heavens! Demonic aura surges to the heavens! Threat level: [Netherworld Ghost King]!"

The Long-Beaked Messenger's warning made it clear that the Headless Corpse Buddha's strength had now risen to [Netherworld]. The Netherworld Realm, also known as the Ghost King Realm, was beyond the ability of a mere Hundred-Man Commander field agent like him to handle—even a Baleful Knot Ghost King, the lowest of its ranks.

Under normal circumstances, the highest threat a Hundred-Man Commander field agent of the Demon Suppression Bureau could handle was [Yellow Springs Demon Ghost], meaning below the eighth rank. Upon encountering a [Netherworld]-level threat, he was required to retreat temporarily and send word through a Long-Beaked Messenger, gathering at least four Hundred-Man Commander field agents to assist a Thousand-Household Commander-level expert in its extermination.

Yet Xu Ming was now not only facing the Headless Corpse Buddha alone after it had risen to the rank of [Netherworld Ghost King], but had also fallen victim to its sneak attack, leaving him at an absolute disadvantage.

"Fengming... Mountain God, the Demon Suppression Bureau has kept you fed for years, yet you... you dare attack me!" Xu Ming barely managed to turn his head. Blood seeped from his mouth and nose as he roared each word, his voice filled with fury and defiance.

"Meng Changxi" gave no answer. He merely tilted his ugly, misshapen head and repeated a single word: "Sacrifice... sacrifice... sacri... fice!"

Ordinarily, the Corpse Buddha possessed little awareness. But whether because he had possessed "Meng Changxi" or because he had devoured a thousand people and was nearing the completion of his nirvana, he had first ambushed Xu Ming, the greatest threat to him.

As the scarlet light in the four eyes of the Buddha head embedded in "Meng Changxi's" torso blazed ever brighter, the red thread wound around Xu Ming's neck abruptly pulled taut. It nearly severed his neck, and blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the earth beneath him red.

Seeing "Meng Changxi" move in for the kill, Xu Ming refused to be a lamb awaiting slaughter. Even with his neck pierced through, his right hand remained steady in its sword-control seal, and the little blood-colored sword suspended in the air stayed solid. As a field agent of the Demon Suppression Bureau, how could he fear death? Even if he died, he would shatter jade and stone alike—taking his enemy down with him!

"Go!" Xu Ming choked out a mouthful of bloody froth, his face as pale as a corpse and his eyes stretched almost to splitting. The little blood-colored sword spun swiftly in midair, then shot toward "Meng Changxi" with a piercing shriek.

At the last moment, Xu Ming redirected his attack, abandoning the monk and sending his Flying Sword straight at "Meng Changxi." In his eyes, the monk and Zhang Xuan were mere ants; whether he killed them made no difference. But allowing the Corpse Buddha to escape his control was something he could never tolerate.

I must not ruin that lord's plans! The thought flashed through Xu Ming's mind. Almost at the same instant, a head wearing a tall Azure Dragon crown flew skyward, trailing a vast spray of blood!

As it tumbled, the head's gaze met Zhang Xuan's. The light gradually drained from those venomous eyes.

Xu Ming was dead, but the little blood-colored sword did not dissipate. Freed from its master's control, it even picked up speed.

It crossed the dozens of meters in an instant. Yet without precise control, the Flying Sword veered from its original course. Instead of striking the two-faced Buddha head in "Meng Changxi's" torso, it pierced his lower abdomen, drawing out a great gush of thick yellow fluid.

Ice rapidly formed around the wound. In a single breath, most of "Meng Changxi's" body was frozen solid.

"Taoist, seize this chance! We need to retreat!" The monk turned back anxiously. He could trade moves with Xu Ming in a battle to the death, but against the Corpse Buddha, he had not the slightest confidence.

The Headless Corpse Buddha was far too terrifying. If that thing latched onto them, even ten lives would not be enough to throw away!

Yet when he turned to look at Zhang Xuan, he discovered that Zhang Xuan, who had been standing behind him, had vanished.

"Taoist?"

Before the monk's startled, uncertain question had finished ringing out, a figure in blue-green quietly appeared before the icebound "Meng Changxi."

He focused his gaze—it was Zhang Xuan!

Thunder boomed, and a ghastly white bolt of lightning struck down, illuminating the dark, secluded path through the dense forest with utter clarity. Beneath that pallid flash, every detail of their surroundings stood out.

Zhang Xuan was not especially fast, but his timing was impeccable. At the exact instant Xu Ming's Flying Sword froze "Meng Changxi" and left him immobilized, he quietly leaped out and plunged into the fray!

"Innate Supreme Unity Divine Thunder, swiftly obey the command!"

Dazzling lightning burst forth, brilliant against the curtain of rain!

"By decree!"

Zhang Xuan's gaze was sharp as a blade. His left hand formed a sword-finger seal, while lightning wreathed his right, turning it into a Thunder Spear as he thrust swiftly toward the Corpse Buddha's chest.

Blue-white patterns of lightning spread wildly through the air, vaporizing every raindrop they touched into mist.

Whether because of its possession of "Meng Changxi" or because its nirvana was nearly complete, it experienced a human emotion for the first time in its thousand-year existence. That feeling...

—was fear!

It could see where the lightning art in the young Taoist's hand was about to strike...

Zhang Xuan was aiming for its vital point, where the Buddha Treasure lay.

Beneath the ice, the Corpse Buddha let out an earthshaking roar. The ice covering its body cracked with an unending series of sharp snaps.

Too late!

This accursed Taoist was so weak. If I weren't frozen, a casual wave of my hand would end his life. This fellow's timing was far too perfect...

The Corpse Buddha understood that the dazzling lightning in Zhang Xuan's right hand would pierce its chest before it could break free of the ice!

The next moment, the Corpse Buddha stopped using its strength to escape its restraints. Billowing black smoke poured from its hollow eyes, and the thousand human faces originally imprinted on its skin surged ceaselessly toward its torso. Beneath the snow-white ice, its flesh churned as countless fleshy human faces gathered before its chest, congealing into a horrific lump that encased the Buddha Treasure within.

It chose to withstand the lightning art in Zhang Xuan's hand head-on!

In an instant, the lightning blade collided with the corrupted flesh. The cracking of ice and the monster's roars rang out without end...

Before that dazzling, tyrannical lightning blade, the horrific lump of corrupted flesh rapidly dissolved like melting ice and snow.

Like a long spear forged from thunder, Zhang Xuan's right arm drove forward inch by inch, unstoppable.