Zhen took a step and the world blurred for a moment, the poison slowing down his qi flow and dulling his senses when a sharp, swishing sound sliced through the air behind him.

  Instinctively, he ducked, forcing the Diamond Skin technique to form protective fractals. But the poison had dulled his qi circulation, and the blade dug two inches into his back before stopping as golden fractals appeared.

  Pain exploded through his back. Zhen rolled forward, snatching the pouch from Luo Heng’s remains while twisting to face the attacker.

  His heart pounded, the cold grasp of near-death making his breath short. He had been a hair’s breadth away from dying just now. Too close.

  The figure before him was all bone—skeletal, a literal human skeleton, with a sickly green hue radiating from its form. Hollow sockets gazed at him, void of emotion. With two glowing orbs in place of its eyes.

  Seventh stage of Qi Condensation.

  An iron sword, glowing faintly with the same eerie green light, rested in its bony grip. The blade looked old, dusty—tainted. It reeked of something worse than just rot.

  Zhen spat blood, the wound on his back flaring in fierce protest. He clenched his teeth, forcing the taste down, refusing to show weakness.

  A searing cold slithered through his veins from the wound, spreading like venom, numbing yet burning at once. Gritting his teeth, he forced his qi to surge, sending it crashing against the invading force. Agony exploded through his body—raw, searing, as if molten steel had been poured into his bones. His vision darkened at the edges, sweat beading on his brow.

  The poison’s grip on his body tightened, making every breath feel labored, his qi sluggish again. He couldn’t afford to let it get worse.

  He pushed harder, grinding whatever it was down, his qi speeding little by little until the agony began to ease.

  Then a voice pierced the silence from his right.

  "Quite the strength to kill bastard Luo in such a short time," The shadow-boy, Zhao Shi mused, his tone unreadable.

  Zhen finally spotted the absent guard, leaning against a tree with a lazy smirk. His eyes narrowed as he subtly adjusted his stance, hand drifting toward his back as if tending to his wound, but in truth, his fingers worked to untie Luo Heng's pouch.

  "You’re quick to speak. Haha! Can't even save him," Zhen’s voice rasped with a bitter edge from the lingering agony. "Now that you've shown yourself, don't think about leaving alive."

  His qi still felt sluggish, the poison still coursing through his veins. But the agony from his back is gone. At least these false threats might bring him some time.

  Zhao Shi snorted, pushing off the tree and strolling toward him while the skeleton stood ominously before Luo Heng’s corpse.

  Zhen stepped back, putting quite a bit of distance. Play acted as though the sneak attack had left him weakened. His eyes flickered to Zhao Shi, hoping the act would sell itself.

  With careful hands, he opened the pouch, feeling the cool, familiar shape of two spirit stones inside. Without wasting a moment, he began his Hundred Stars refinement, absorbing small, controlled amounts of qi.

  e kept his focus on maintaining a steady, harmless flow of energy, hoping that Zhao Shi would mistake his actions for merely replenishing his qi from the surrounding environment.

  His earlier battle had drained him, leaving only forty percent of his qi reserves. It should be enough for a sixth-stage cultivator, but Zhao Shi didn’t look the least bit concerned. And that put Zhen on edge.

  "You are talking as if you really killed him," Zhao Shi said as he leaned beside Luo Heng.

  Zhen’s eyes narrowed. Did I hear that wrong? I clearly killed him, but why is this gothic boy taking the credit?

  Zhao Shi glanced at his expression, then let out a mad laugh. "Do you really think we wouldn’t have noticed such a big-foot cultivator loitering around the camp?"

  Zhen’s body stiffened in surprise, his mind racing. Had Luo Heng already known about me? Was this a trap? A cold chill crept down his spine. Then how did Luo Heng die?

  Then, like a thunderbolt, the realization hit him. If Zhao Shi truly had a hand in killing him…

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Zhao Shi smirked. "Luo Heng planned to bait you, leading you into an ambush. So, I decided to play along and let you act." He pulled a pouch from inside his robes, sprinkling white powder over Luo Heng’s remains while mumbling, green qi swirling in his palm as it hovered above the corpse.

  Zhen’s gaze sharpened as he noticed Luo Heng’s skin and muscles slowly dissolving, leaving only a glowing green forehead.

  A few moments later, Luo Heng’s remains shuddered, its qi fluctuating erratically. The first stage of Qi Condensation.

  Zhen completed Zhao Shi's words to keep him talking. "You didn’t inform Luo Heng about my infiltration, making him think he was safe and unprepared."

  Zhao Shi dusted his hands off as he straightened. "And I added a small dose of hallucinogens to further cloud his thinking in crucial moments. Thank you for killing bastard Luo. Now, I’ll be taking what’s his to add to my collection."

  Zhen felt a pang of pity for Luo Heng, but he masked it with scorn. "Selling out your own companion? Disgusting."

  Zhao Shi’s expression remained impassive. "Luo Heng should never have tried to use me as a shield by revealing any secrets. Three can keep a secret if two are dead. Sooner or later, he would have betrayed me. Better to eliminate him first and gain a minion."

  Fifty percent. As Zhen had decided to increase his absorption speed, one spirit stone crumbled in his grasp, some qi lost in the process.

  Luo Heng’s upper body had half-converted into a skeleton, and his strength had risen to the third stage of Qi Condensation.

  Zhen exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as he steadied his breath. His eyes narrowed, and his hand, which had been hovering near his wound, clenched into a fist. No more hesitation. He would fight. His muscles tensed, ready for the strain. Fifty percent should be enough—at least to stop whatever Zhao Shi was doing with Luo Heng's corpse.

  Zhao Shi sneered. "Want to fight? Let’s see how long you last." He gestured, and the skeleton lunged forward.

  Purple qi flared to life in Zhen’s palm, more refined than the last he used against Wang Bo, consuming far less energy. He flexed his fingers, feeling the sharpened control as he shifted into a defensive stance.

  His Diamond Skin fractals formed along his arms and torso, their protective golden layers shimmering faintly. His purple qi constructed into claws that glowed with a predatory light, ready to tear through bone.

  The first exchange was swift. Zhen slashed out, applying his superior speed as one stage higher cultivator, but the skeleton met his strike with a precise parry, its movement eerily efficient.

  Not deterred, he twisted at the waist, launching a kick aimed at its ribs. But the skeleton shifted at an impossible angle, almost threatening to break the spine, dodging with an unnatural fluidity that no human could match.

  Alarm flickered in Zhen’s eyes. This thing had some real flexibility.

  He pivoted sharply, drawing on his refined qi, and launched another strike. This time, he pushed qi into his claws and slashed directly at the ribcage.

  His energy exploded upon impact, sending cracks spider-webbing through the bone before the structure finally gave way, shattering with a resounding blast.

  Zhao Shi’s laughter rang through the battlefield, wild and mocking. Green qi shrouded his hands as he formed a sigil, the same glow enveloping the skeleton. "You think you understand the undead?" he taunted. "Their regeneration is near infinite!"

  Zhen cursed under his breath, his mind racing, scrambling for an answer as he watched the green qi twist and pulse. How do you kill something like this? he thought, trying to recall anything he could use. Images from movies flickered through his mind—zombies crumbling under the weight of a single strike to the skull, or falling apart with the right ritual.

  His brow furrowed. It’s not the bones you need to destroy, it’s the source. The core... the essence. The qi. Get to the heart of it, take out the foundation, and everything crumbles.

  As he had expected, the broken ribcage began to mend, green light knitting the bones together.

  His fingers tightened into a fist as he mentally pieced the clues together. If this thing regenerated from its bones, then he needed to sever the connection—destroy the energy that kept it alive.

  But as his mind formed the plan, Zhen couldn’t shake the sense of danger. His gaze flickered to Zhao Shi, who was sitting in a relaxed, almost lazy posture.

  Zhen’s suspicion grew. This is a trap. If he attacked directly, if he focused all his energy on the skeleton or Zhao Shi himself, the balance would tip, and he would fall right into Zhao Shi’s hands. The boy was too calm, too in control. No—I need to tread carefully. A direct confrontation would play right into the trap.

  Attacking the source is out, then it was best to settle for grindin—

  But then—without warning—the moment the green qi touched the remnants of his purple qi, a violent reaction erupted. A sudden explosion of force sent both energies spiraling out of existence, dimming their power.

  Zhen’s eyes widened in shock, his focus snapped. What just happened? His chest tightened as the realization dawned. The burning agony…

  Zhao Shi’s laughter faltered, his smirk replaced with intrigue. He studied Zhen with new interest. "Your qi… has quite destruction and sharpness."

  Zhao Shi shifted his attention from Luo Heng's corpse and moved his hand while touching a leather pouch on his waist. Then another sigil flared, and two more skeletons emerged in front of him—this time in the form of beasts.

  The first was a massive skeletal hound, its bones sharp and jagged, glistening fangs dripping with venom. It let out a ferocious growl, the sound echoing like a death knell as its hollow eyes locked onto Zhen.

  The other was a grotesque stag, its bones twisted in unnatural angles, its antlers glowing with the same eerie green energy. The stag’s hooves stomped the ground, sending tremors through the earth, its gaze sharp with malevolent intent.

  Seventh stage of Qi Condesation.

  Just how many does this bastard have? Zhen’s mind raced as he assessed the battlefield. Three enemies now, not just one.