The skeletal hound charged first, its fangs snapping as it lunged toward him with terrifying speed. Zhen barely dodged, the beast’s teeth grazing his golden fractals on his shoulder, leaving a burning trail of clashing qi that stung through his skin.

  He staggered, but there was no time to dwell on the pain. The stag’s hooves struck the ground in a rhythmic beat, its antlers pulsing with green energy as it closed the distance. Zhen cursed under his breath, twisting to the side as the stag’s antlers swiped at him, missing by mere inches.

  Then a flurry of movement came from the shadows—a blinding attack. The green sword from the skeleton swept up from the ground at an angle that was impossible for any person to form.

  But instead of dodging, Zhen’s eyes flicked to the incoming steel, and with a grim, focused expression, he braced himself. He didn’t flinch. This is it—the moment he had been waiting for. Tilting to the side in one smooth motion, he clamped the sword in between his hands, barely stopping it from separating his right arm.

  The purple qi claw flared, the hidden golden fractals in his hands flared and his qi rapidly diminished, but Zhen pulled the sword with all his strength and the skeleton stumbled forward. Raising his legs, he braced it against the skeleton's chest and sent qi through his legs.

  Both of them blasted with the skeleton crashing on the beasts while Zhen staggered ten steps.

  Zhen growled, flipping his new sword. The sickly green qi flickered as it made contact with his purple energy, the same reaction as before—small fractures spider-webbing along the undead frame. Bloody Hell!

  Tch. Not enough qi to waste for now. While it might be explosive enough, he wouldn't use that much qi until the last moment.

  He tossed the sword backward, away from Zhao Shi and his minions, and launched himself at the beasts, keeping them at bay while rapidly refining another spirit stone.

  The green glow had diminished a little and Zhao Shi's chest was heaving a little as if he was exerting himself.

  Minutes of relentless battle passed. The beasts snapped and lunged, but Zhen’s movements became sharper, his strikes more efficient. Finally, with his reserves partially restored to forty percent, he exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow.

  But Zhao Shi scowled. "I don’t have time for this."

  With a flick of his hands, two more humanoid skeletons and five smaller ones emerged, surrounding Zhen in a suffocating formation.

  One beast and one humanoid are in the Sixth stage while the others at the fifth stage of Qi Condensation. Is that all the army that he has?

  Zhen cursed under his breath, barely managing to react as his Diamond Skin technique absorbed an ambush strike from behind.

  Both of them were panting now—Zhao Shi’s forehead slick with sweat, while Zhen fared no better. His breath came in ragged gasps with a burning sensation all over his body. Damn these minion-type cultivators, he spat. I need to learn an area-of-effect technique too.

  Zhen gritted his teeth and held out for five agonizing minutes, deflecting, dodging, and countering each strike. Then, without warning, all the skeletons froze in place.

  Is there something wrong with Zhao Shi? Zhen glanced at the man concentrating on Luo Heng's corpse while his movements were erratic. After observing for a while, Zhen noticed that Zhao Shi qi was not as stable as before. Our qi must be clashing, draining both of us. Or maybe it has something to do with Luo Heng.

  Taking the opportunity, he surged forward and with a concentrated burst of qi, he shattered two monstrous that were already on their last legs.

  But then—the remaining skeletons merged, fusing together into a grotesque, towering form, twice as big as him with two heads on his shoulder. At the same time, a single skeleton peeled away from the fight and began marching toward the central tent.

  Zhen’s stomach sank as his eyes locked onto the moving skeleton. No. He’s going for Ning Xue.

  "Damn it, Zhao Shi! Attack me like a fucking man!" Zhen shouted, his voice raw with frustration. "Why hide behind a girl?!"

  Zhao Shi wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, his face flickering with a hint of fatigue. “That's all because of your blasted qi. I wouldn’t have wasted qi to refine Luo Heng if I knew your qi was this hard to counter,” he muttered, his tone strained, an edge of frustration creeping through his usual calm.

  The flickering of green spiritual contained streaks of black qi around his hands was more erratic now, as though his control over it was slipping just slightly.

  Zhen could see the strain in his posture, the tremor in his fingers, and the slight exhaustion lining his features. And that black is oddly reminiscent of Luo Heng qi.

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  But he didn't have time to observe more. He lunged to intercept the sneaky skeleton, but his legs felt heavy, exhaustion catching up to him. His vision blurred slightly as the skeleton slipped into the tent.

  His breath caught in his throat. For a moment, his world stopped. But then—it reemerged, empty-handed.

  Zhen let out a shaky exhale, forcing a smirk to mask his relief. His eyes flicked around the battlefield. Seems she ran off. Smart girl.

  Zhao Shi’s expression darkened, lips curling into a sneer. “Haha, Who would have thought that she would abandoned you. Left here to die.”

  Zhen scoffed, rolling his shoulders as if shrugging off the words, though he already knew what Zhao Shi was doing. Trying to worm doubt into his mind. It was almost amusing. “As if you could contain me.”

  A flicker of rage crossed Zhao Shi’s face. Zhen seized that moment. His fingers wrapped around the discarded sword, its cold metal burning at his touch.

  Without hesitation, he drove the blade straight into the towering skeletal giant before him.

  A surge of qi rushed from his core, flooding the sword as he crushed his last spirit stone in his grip. Energy poured into the blade, light gathering in its metal like a brewing storm. The sword pulsed—unstable, overcharged.

  His reserves plummeted.

  Fifteen percent left.

  The clashing of different qi strained the sword, sending shudders through the steel. His palm burned, as though plunged into boiling water. Thirteen percent left. The balance tipped—

  The skeleton lurched back, its green-lit sockets flickering in warning. Then—

  BOOM!

  A shockwave blasted outward.

  "AAAAHHHH!" Zhao Shi’s startled cry cut through the night as birds scattered into the sky, their wings a frantic blur.

  Zhen turned—only to freeze.

  A new skeleton stood before him, its green glow surging with terrifying intensity. The aura it emitted sent a chill down his spine.

  Eighth-stage Qi Condensation.

  Luo Heng's corpse.

  Zhen barely had time to process before it lunged.

  He met the strike head-on, the force rattling his bones. Sparks screamed between clashing blades, the sheer impact sending fissures through the ground beneath them.

  Zhen’s eyes darted over the new skeleton, muscles tensed. The way it moved—efficient, mechanical, yet lacking the precise intent Luo Heng once wielded. His breath hitched. Had the corpse retained any of its former power?

  A fist sang through the air. Zhen blocked, barely. The impact sent a dull ache up his arm. He countered with a swift cut, testing, gauging. The undead responded in kind, but the strokes were crude, predictable.

  A slow breath. Relief flickered through him—it had none of Luo Heng’s black energy. Only the eerie green remained.

  A glance toward Zhao Shi revealed an unexpected sight—the boy on his knees, his breath ragged, with a vast increase of strands of black qi swirling violently around him. It coiled and twisted, almost as if resisting, as if fighting him.

  A side effect? Residual resentment? An error in the conversion process? Whatever it was, Zhen was thankful that the boy was also not having it easy.

  Luo Heng’s corpse pressed the assault. Zhen ducked a sweeping slash, twisted, and countered—each strike precise, chipping away at the bones. Fractures spread along the ribs. Closer. Closer.

  When Zhen’s hand hit hard into the undead’s skull, a sudden gasp echoed in the clearing. He glanced over, to see a sharp tremor run through Zhao Shi’s frame. Is Zhao Shi directly connected with this new skeleton?

  A crack split its skull. Zhao Shi flinched. His breath hitched. Zhao Shi’s entire body convulsed as the black qi almost drowned him.

  They were linked. Somehow.

  Zhen narrowed his eyes. So that’s how it is.

  Teeth clenched, he drove forward, slicing, carving, relentless. The corpse staggered, its movements slowing, unsteady. Zhen roared as he shoved his hand into the fractured skull, qi pouring from his palm in one final, desperate push.

  The battlefield quaked. The corpse convulsed violently before crumbling apart, green energy dispersing like mist in the wind.

  Zhen dropped to his knees, chest heaving. The world tilted. Limbs trembling, almost empty. Only five percent of qi.

  A sharp, furious cry cut through the aftermath.

  Zhao Shi trembled with exhaustion, but his frustration was louder as he was almost covered in black qi. "Fuck Luo Heng! You damn bastard!!"

  Then he inhaled. Deep. Purposeful.

  The green qi around the battlefield surged toward him, streams of it flowing into his body. His fatigue vanished, and his presence grew heavier—stronger.

  What now? Zhen’s stomach twisted. He’s absorbing all of it?

  The pressure doubled, tripled.

  The qi around Zhao Shi pulsed, warping the space around him. Then suddenly, the skin and muscles around his hands withered, blackening, rotting away in an instant. In mere moments, only white bone remained—his hands reduced to skeletal remnants. And then, as abruptly as it started, the conversion halted.

  Zhen swallowed hard. What kind of technique was this? Some kind of forbidden art?

  Zhao Shi eyes gleamed as he swung the hand once. A shockwave of green energy carved through the earth, a mere test swing demonstrating his new overwhelming force.

  Zhen felt his blood run cold.

  Zhao Shi let out a breathless laugh, a wild, unhinged edge creeping into his voice. "You," he hissed, his tone shaking with fury, madness bleeding into every syllable. "You just don’t know when to die, do you? Always squirming, always resisting." His eyes gleamed with something fractured, something broken.

  He threw his head back and laughed, the sound jagged, grating. "But it doesn’t matter! You hear me? None of it matters anymore!" He spread his arms, embracing the power seething through him. "I am beyond limits! Beyond pain! And you—" he leveled his skeleton hand at Zhen, grinning like a specter of death "—you will crumble beneath me."

  Eighth-stage Qi Condensation.

  Zhao Shi grinned. "Now… let’s see how long you last."