Chapter 63: The Deadly Yin Energy

On Muyu Island, a sinister wind howled.

Boom! An immense force surged, shattering rocks and mountains. A deep-black corpse flame erupted forth, and the Iron Corpse sent Iron Butcher flying. Having endured the Corpse Daoist’s long and meticulous refinement, repeatedly bathed in secret medicines, its strength was formidable.

A hoarse rasp sounded from its throat, its eyes blood-red and brimming with bloodlust. Seizing the opportunity, the Iron Corpse lunged like a starving tiger, intent on tearing Iron Butcher to pieces.

The Corpse Daoist, witnessing this scene, made no move to intervene; instead, his eyes shone with anticipation. At that moment, accompanied by a furious roar, Iron Butcher burst forth again from the rubble.

His figure had swelled, reaching three meters tall. Not only was he enveloped in an ancient bronze aura, but beneath his ribs, another pair of arms had sprouted. From a distance, he resembled a four-armed Vajra.

Glaring at the charging Iron Corpse, Iron Butcher’s eyes were fierce and savage.

“Kill!”

The words spilled from his lips, indistinct and guttural. His innate ferocity was fully awakened, and he charged headlong at the Iron Corpse.

Swish—a subtle change, as if Iron Butcher’s aura had unsettled the Iron Corpse, which faltered for a moment. It opened its mouth, spewing another ball of corpse flame in an attempt to drive Iron Butcher back.

Yet Iron Butcher, fearless and undaunted, crashed through the corpse flame, shattering it. Aside from his aura dimming slightly, he suffered no harm.

“Die!”

Strange true energy, black as lightning, curled around his fists. Eyes locked on the Iron Corpse, Iron Butcher swung his four arms simultaneously. In that instant, the secret essence of the Mighty Vajra Fist erupted—powerful and relentless.

Though he had lost all sense of self, Iron Butcher had drilled these martial arts to the marrow, making them instinctive.

Buzz—fist shadows multiplied. Sensing mortal danger, the Iron Corpse summoned a shield of yin energy, but it was futile. As Iron Butcher’s fists fell like rain, the yin armor shattered visibly, piece by piece.

Roaring, the Iron Corpse tried to retaliate, but could not; faced with Iron Butcher, it was as powerless as a child bullied by an adult, barely able to defend itself, retreating again and again, leaving deep marks in the earth.

After thoroughly overwhelming the Iron Corpse, Iron Butcher’s aura grew ever more savage, as if nourished by the victory. At its peak, the black lightning surged wildly, and his already formidable power increased further.

At that moment, four enormous black fists descended simultaneously, utterly smashing the Iron Corpse’s defenses and leaving four indelible fist marks upon its body.

The heavy blows collapsed its chest, and it spat out dark green blood, flung aside like a rag, its life ended. Normally, zombies possess tenacious vitality; their greatest strength lies in their resilience. But Iron Butcher’s strange true energy snuffed out the Iron Corpse’s life force directly.

Roaring skyward, Iron Butcher was filled with exhilaration. Having slain the Iron Corpse, he seemed to undergo a baptism; his aura soared higher, and the black lightning rampaged unchecked, making him appear as a demonic being wielding the power of thunder.

Witnessing these changes, the Corpse Daoist felt no sorrow for the Iron Corpse’s demise—only excitement.

“Martial bones transmuted into yin bones, birthing innate spells and ultimate yin true energy. The records left by the patriarch were indeed true. Hahaha…”

His theories proven, and having personally refined a battle zombie, the Corpse Daoist could not help but laugh aloud. Truthfully, Iron Butcher far exceeded his expectations, and the stronger and fiercer Iron Butcher became, the more pleased he was.

As for the Iron Corpse—it had once been his prized possession, and he’d felt genuine pain when it was injured or exhausted. But now, it was mere consumable. With the battle zombie in hand, he no longer needed the Iron Corpse. Given his cultivation, simultaneously refining and controlling two zombies of the Qi Refining stage was rare—especially when one was a battle zombie, an anomaly that could easily turn on him if mishandled.

Just then, Iron Butcher, his ferocity fully awakened by slaughter, turned his gaze upon the Corpse Daoist, eyes brimming with murderous intent.

“Still wish to kill me?” the Corpse Daoist taunted, unafraid. Iron Butcher’s combat power was indeed formidable—surpassing even the meticulously refined Iron Corpse—but dealing with the Daoist himself was impossible.

Jingling, true energy surged as the Corpse Daoist activated the corpse control bell.

As its dull chime sounded, Iron Butcher, whose ferocity had been at its peak and seemed poised to attack, suddenly froze. Pain and struggle flickered in his eyes.

Seeing this, a cold, harsh look crossed the Corpse Daoist’s face.

“Still want to resist?”

The bell’s sound lingered, tormenting Iron Butcher’s soul. His spells collapsed, and he writhed on the ground in agony, powerless to resist.

Witnessing this, the Corpse Daoist’s face twisted with satisfaction. No matter how fierce the hound, once shackled, it could not defy its master. When Iron Butcher had stolen the Iron Armor technique, the Daoist had already planted the corpse control seal upon him.

But as the Corpse Daoist opened the Iron Corpse’s empty black coffin, intending to subdue Iron Butcher completely, the unexpected happened. The Four-Armed Vajra technique flared anew, and Iron Butcher, enduring the bell’s pain, charged up with a contorted face.

Startled by Iron Butcher’s overwhelming ferocity, the Corpse Daoist’s composure faltered for a moment. Fortunately, his experience in magical combat prevailed; at the critical moment, he activated the black coffin and interposed it.

Though its primary purpose was to nurture corpses, the coffin's defensive power was not negligible.

Boom! Yin energy clashed—Iron Butcher's attack was blocked. After battling the Iron Corpse and suffering the bell’s torment, his strength was far from its peak. Even so, the Corpse Daoist was shaken by the force of the blow, his face flushing red.

“Damn, truly hard to tame! My methods must have been too gentle.”

Biting his tongue, the Corpse Daoist spat blood, his face darkening as he invoked a secret technique. Instantly, the bell’s chime grew sharp and urgent.

Struck by this, Iron Butcher was plunged into unbearable agony, his true energy on the verge of collapse.

Without hesitation, the Corpse Daoist promptly summoned the nurturing coffin and sealed Iron Butcher within.

As he closed the lid, the weight lifted from his heart. But gazing at the deep fist mark on the coffin’s surface, a pang of pain crossed his face.

“So be it, so be it. Acquiring a battle zombie is worth it. As for the Iron Corpse, it can be re-forged into corpse scraps to nurture the battle zombie and recoup some losses.”

He consoled himself, produced a corpse shroud, and stowed the Iron Corpse’s remains in his storage bag. Mounting the bamboo palanquin, he prepared to retrieve the Mist-Driving Banner from Muyu Peak and depart the island. But at that moment, a crane’s cry resounded, and the clouds outside began to churn.