30: Chapter 30 Revenge is never too late

The Cave Master poked forward with a finger, his knuckles pale, but the force was not great.

The Manor Master laughed heartily, his laughter causing the white cloth on the mortuary rack to sway. "I have been refining corpses for thirty years; my Physical Body has long since become incorruptible and immortal."

He raised his right hand, his withered skin the color of old copper. "In the Dao of the zombie, corpse qi nourishes the bones and Death Qi refines the skin. My flesh and skin are three parts harder than pig iron. Sickness? What a joke."

The Cave Master did not laugh; he took out a willow-leaf blade. "The liver governs the tendons, and the kidneys govern the bones."

"With corpse qi entering your liver, your tendons have long since died. With corpse qi entering your kidneys, your bones have also withered. Incorruptible and immortal? You are nothing but a piece of dead meat. Dead meat does not grow sick, but it also does not grow long life."

The Manor Master frowned. He looked down at his chest. The skin where he had been poked was rotting.

A small patch of flesh collapsed, its color changing from copper-yellow to greenish-black, like ink dripping into clear water and spreading outward. The flesh peeled open, revealing grey-black fascia.

"You..." The Manor Master stepped back, his face twitching.

The Cave Master stepped forward, pressing the willow-leaf blade against the Manor Master's arm. With a gentle flick of the blade's tip, the skin tore open like old leather, revealing pitch-black muscle.

"Kidney water is exhausted, and heart fire is uncontrolled. Once the heart fire rises, it burns none other than yourself." The Manor Master felt hot.

That heat emerged from the gaps in his bones, burning so intensely he wanted to tear off his own skin. He reached out to touch his chest, but felt only rotting mud. The rotting flesh on his chest was falling off, chunk by chunk, landing on the ground with a wet, squelching sound.

"Impossible! My immortal body..." "There is nothing impossible."

The Cave Master turned the blade, cutting into the Manor Master's neck. When the blade hit bone, the willow-leaf blade slid along the seam, finding the most fragile connection point.

With a flick, the Manor Master's head tilted backward. His mouth was still opening and closing, his throat emitting a rattling sound. "You... doctor..."

"It is because you do not understand medical principles that you have refined yourself into such a monster."

The Cave Master sheathed his blade and wiped it on the Manor Master's clothes. The Manor Master collapsed, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Applause came from behind him. "Good." The voice was languid, carrying a smile.

"The methods of the Master of Yinsui Cave are truly well-deserved of their reputation." Garrison Commander Xue walked two steps closer, his hand reaching out to pat the Cave Master's shoulder, but he stopped in mid-air and withdrew it. "This old thing, relying on his thick skin and flesh, has been arrogant in front of me more than once or twice. Today, someone has finally taught him a lesson."

The Cave Master turned around.

He looked at Garrison Commander Xue, his eyes devoid of temperature, as if looking at a lesion.

Garrison Commander Xue was stung by this gaze, his smile stiffening slightly before relaxing again. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice: "It is fortunate that you have come; it saves me from having to send someone to invite you. Duanmu Gong has come to me more than once to report your acts of overstepping, and this time we can resolve it all at once."

"Fortunate?"

Garrison Commander Xue nodded, not noticing anything amiss, and continued: "It is fortunate that you helped me kill Mr. Xiangli. I will put in a good word for you in front of the Prefect, and life in Yin Sui Cave will be easier. We are each getting what we need—a win-win."

The Cave Master flipped his right hand, the willow-leaf blade sliding into his palm, and the blade flashed.

Garrison Commander Xue's smile was still on his face. The blade had already been plunged into his abdomen. It had entered diagonally upward from the lower edge of his ribs, pierced through the diaphragm, and stabbed beneath his heart.

Garrison Commander Xue looked down at his stomach, opening his mouth, wanting to say something.

Not a single word came out.

Cold qi erupted from the blade. Crack, crack, crack—the sound of ice crystals forming rang out densely. White frost formed on the surface of Garrison Commander Xue's body, spreading from his abdomen to his limbs. His mouth was open, his tongue frozen into red ice, and ice crystals hung from his teeth. His eyes were open, the moisture in his eyeballs solidified into two cloudy ice spheres.

He froze in place, like an ice sculpture, still maintaining the posture of looking down at his wound.

The Cave Master formed his five fingers into a claw and thrust them into Garrison Commander Xue's chest. The sound of cracking ice exploded as his fingers pierced through the frozen skin and flesh, and he reached inside to pull something out.

A heart.

"The debt from ten years ago, it is time for you to pay it back."

As soon as the Cave Master finished speaking, his shoulder swayed. He coughed, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

He stuffed the heart into his bosom and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. He looked up at Mr. Xiangli.

Mr. Xiangli's hand was still pressed on the hilt of his sword. His mind turned quickly; the Cave Master had killed Garrison Commander Xue, so there must have been a grudge between them.

The sound of tiles shattering came from the roof of the Undertakers Manor. The Cave Master paused his steps and swept his gaze upward.

Several black shadows dropped from the rafters. Dressed in black with short blades, they were precisely the Mo Sect assassins under Mr. Xiangli's command.

Before the assassins even landed, they slashed their short blades in mid-air, the blade light weaving into a net that covered the Cave Master's head.

The Cave Master dodged sideways, but the short blade grazed him, cutting a gash. He stepped back, a sharp pain in his chest, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth again.

The back window of the Undertakers Manor shattered simultaneously, and two people vaulted inside.

The Cave Master did not hesitate; he reached his left hand into the leather pouch at his waist, pulled out three grey-white beads, and smashed them onto the ground.

The beads shattered, black smoke rose, and after the smoke dissipated, three things appeared on the ground.

Bloated Ghosts.

Their eyes were white, without pupils, only a grey-white like dead fish eyes. Their skin was blue-grey, like a dead person who had been soaked for a long time—swollen and shiny.

Their bodies were massive, their bellies swollen as if about to burst, with blue veins coiled over them like earthworms crawling under the skin. Their limbs were thin and long with protruding joints, bent back at eerie angles.

Their spines pierced out from their flesh, each bone tip shining with an oily sheen. Their heads and faces were covered in scars, and the sharp teeth in their mouths ground against each other, like they were chewing bones.

The three Bloated Ghosts landed, all fours on the ground, their heads twisting toward Mr. Xiangli and the assassins. Their pupil-less eyes seemed to be "looking" at people—a vast expanse of white—yet it made one feel the chill of being stared at.

The Cave Master turned and retreated, disappearing into the darkness, his voice resolute: "It will succeed soon."

The Bloated Ghosts' bellies began to squirm, making gurgling sounds as if boiling water was churning inside.

The largest Bloated Ghost opened its mouth, the corners of which split all the way to its earlobes, revealing layers of fine teeth. It lunged toward the nearest assassin, its speed so fast it didn't seem possible for such a bloated body.

The assassin swung his blade to strike, the blade hacking into the Bloated Ghost's shoulder. Black blood sprayed, and wherever it touched the skin, it began to emit white smoke.

The Bloated Ghost seemed not to feel pain. It opened its arms and hugged the assassin, and the sound of bones breaking rang out—crack, crack.

Mr. Xiangli drew his sword, the sword light flashing as he stabbed into another Bloated Ghost's belly. The tip of the sword sank in as if stabbing into a pile of rotting mud, and when he pulled it out, it brought out a large amount of black water and shredded flesh.

The Bloated Ghost looked down at the hole in its stomach and reached out to gouge at it, making the wound larger and larger until its intestines spilled out and dragged on the ground.

Black smoke filled the air, mixed with the flash of blades and swords, the sound of breaking bones, the sound of flesh corroding, and the gurgling and laughter of the Bloated Ghosts. Blood splattered onto the mortuary rack, staining the white cloth a dark red.

Mr. Xiangli parried and retreated, his mind still turning; the Cave Master had slipped away, leaving these three monsters behind.

Garrison Commander Xue was dead, and the Manor Master was dead; today's affairs were in complete disarray.

He looked up at the back door, the direction in which the Cave Master had disappeared. "It will succeed soon"? What did that mean?

The assassins gathered together, back-to-back, their short blades facing outward. The Bloated Ghosts surrounded them, their bellies swollen even higher, their skin transparent, allowing one to see something turning inside—like an embryo, or perhaps a mass of writhing worms.

Mr. Xiangli drew his sword, and the Mo Sect assassins gripped their short blades tightly.

Mr. Xiangli tapped his toes, his sword tip stabbing toward the throat of the nearest Bloated Ghost, the sword light carving a narrow slit through the darkness.

He twisted his wrist and pulled back with force. When the sword was pulled out, it brought out a large mass of grey-yellow pus. The pus hung from the sword, thick and stringy, dripping onto the ground with a sizzling sound, burning pockmarks into the bluestone floor and emitting white smoke.

"Retreat!"

It was too late.

The Bloated Ghost raised its head. Its white eyes were cloudy, like eyes of a dead fish soaked too long, rolling white. It opened its mouth, sharp teeth grinding, emitting a screech like iron scraping against porcelain. Its belly swelled once. Something was pushing from inside, stretching the belly skin into a point.

Mr. Xiangli's subordinate hacked at the Bloated Ghost's belly. The Bloated Ghost's belly was stretched tight and shiny, the lumps under the skin bulging one by one, fist-sized bumps writhing as countless worms arched inside, pushing the skin up and letting it fall.

Then it exploded.

What exploded was a cloud of yellow-green fluid, mixed with shredded flesh and bone fragments, splattering in all directions.

The assassin faced it head-on, turning into a pool of blood that flowed from the corners of his mouth. The fluid poured into his eye sockets, his eyeballs turning into two pools of cloudy water, flowing down his cheeks and leaving two black holes.

His skin bubbled, sizzling, his cheekbones exposed, and then the cheekbones also began to smoke, turning into grey-white dregs and falling off.

Another person retreated quickly, but his left arm was still splashed. His sleeve vanished instantly, his flesh curling back to reveal the blackened tendons inside. He let out an "Aow!" and covered it with his right hand, but his palm touched the fluid, and his knuckles began to peel, revealing white bone.

"Don't touch it!" Mr. Xiangli roared.

Li San was already driven mad by the pain, rolling on the ground, his left arm flailing about. The fluid splashed onto his leg, and his leg began to rot as well. He howled like a slaughtered pig, his voice growing weaker and weaker, finally turning into a rattling gasp as his throat was burned through.

Just at this moment, the remaining Bloated Ghost that had not exploded moved.

Its belly emitted a loud gurgling sound, like someone beating a drum inside, or like boiling water in a pot. Its blue-grey skin was stretched transparently, making the things under the skin visible. Masses of black qi churned in its belly, condensing into faces that twisted and screamed silently.

It began to expand again.

The two that had self-destructed earlier were each only one and a half people tall. This one was originally two people tall, and its belly was swelling to a width of three people. The bone spurs on its back straightened one by one with sharp crack sounds, and several new ones pierced out from the flesh, like a hedgehog bristling its quills.

The lumps on its arms all burst open, flowing with black pus, and the scars on its face were stretched open, splitting into mouths. Each mouth was opening and closing, emitting overlapping cackling sounds.

It was going to explode. And this explosion would be far more powerful than the previous two.

The explosion range would be enough to cover every inch of the corner, and with its belly swollen to such an extent, the exploding fluid could blow the roof off the Undertakers Manor.

Suddenly, a figure rushed out from the corner.

"Wu Xi!" Mr. Xiangli shouted. "Come back!"

Wu Xi did not turn back; he formed a strange seal with his hands in front of his chest, fingers interlaced, middle fingers pressed against the center of his brow—the Zhong Kui Ghost-Eating Technique.

Wu Xi summoned the head of Zhong Kui, with red hair and a red beard, eyes closed. A phantom image rose from behind him, three zhang high, with a green face and fangs, eyes closed, yet it seemed to be looking down upon all living beings. Deep within Zhong Kui's throat, a red light emitted. It was blood light; a blood moon was hidden in the throat, red to the point of black.

Then it began to swallow.

The Zhong Kui head opened its mouth, its mouth large enough to swallow a door. A suction force erupted from the phantom's mouth, and the air in the Undertakers Manor poured into that mouth, forming a whirlwind.

The surrounding black qi was uprooted and swept into the mouth; pus, shredded flesh, and bone fragments all flew up like a waterfall flowing in reverse, pouring into Zhong Kui's throat.

The Bloated Ghost was sucked until its feet left the ground, sliding toward that mouth. It clawed desperately at the ground, its ten fingers gouging into the bluestone slab, its nails all tearing off, leaving ten bloody trails, yet it was still dragged over inch by inch.

"He is crazy," the assassin said in a low voice, holding his short blade horizontally across his chest and taking half a step back.

Mr. Xiangli did not move; he watched Wu Xi, watching that Zhong Kui phantom.

The Bloated Ghost was swallowed to the edge of the mouth, still struggling. Its belly was swollen even larger, its skin transparent, and the black qi inside condensed into a ball, the size of a fist, rotating rapidly. That was the Evil Seed, the core of the Bloated Ghost.

The Zhong Kui head bit down. Snap.

Half of the Bloated Ghost's head was bitten off, black blood gushing out, but it was swept back by the suction, not a drop wasted. The remaining body was stuffed into the throat like a stopper, and with a gurgle, it was swallowed.

The phantom closed its mouth, the red light receding, and it shrank back into Wu Xi's body.

Wu Xi's neck swelled up. The skin was stretched open, and something was burrowing downward inside. His Adam's apple disappeared, replaced by a writhing bulge that slid from his chin all the way to his chest, then down to his abdomen, and his belly began to swell, just like the Bloated Ghost.