Chapter 59: Slaying the Black Dragon

The creature before me was wholly the legendary Taizu: its immense, basketball-court-sized body and those pitch-dark eyes made it unmistakable. If I hadn’t been well-versed in medical texts and seen depictions of its true form, I would never have recognized it. After breaking free, the Taizu fixed its unnaturally large eyes on me. I considered bypassing it to enter the cave and retrieve the primordial spirit, as I knew nothing of its attack methods—especially underwater—and it was best to avoid confrontation if possible.

But the moment I moved, I felt an undertow swirling beneath me, pulling my body inexorably toward the Taizu. Its mouth gaped wide; this must be its way of attacking. The situation had turned dire—I could not allow myself to be drawn into its belly. Desperately, I unleashed a surge of ice, shards mingling with the current as they were sucked into the creature’s cavernous maw. The Taizu hesitated, stunned, and I seized the opportunity to dart into the cave.

Inside, it was pitch black. I had no choice but to open my Heavenly Eye—the black whorl-shaped mark on my forehead—which allowed me to see clearly in the darkness. With it open, the cave was instantly illuminated. The space was small, no more than a meter high. At its center stood a stone platform, upon which rested a jet-black coffin. There was nothing else. Why would there be a coffin here? Could it contain an ancient corpse? I drew my revolver, knowing that swordplay would be greatly hindered underwater; the gun was undoubtedly my best safeguard.

With a heavy heart, I slowly pried open the lid. It was sealed tightly, and it took all my strength to lift it. Revolver at the ready, I aimed inside—only to find it empty. The interior was lined with yellow cloth, which immediately dissolved in the water, leaving nothing behind. Nothing? Could it be that the item wasn’t in the coffin? Frustrated, I ran a hand through my tangled hair and, intending to ask the old man above for answers, kicked the coffin over. That’s when I glimpsed, from the corner of my eye, a small, pitch-dark hole beneath it.

So it was hidden beneath the coffin. But what was the purpose of placing the coffin here in the first place? The hole was barely big enough to fit an adult’s fist. I reached in and fished out a small box, along with a pendant that got snagged and came up with it. The box was square and not much larger than a ring case. Thinking of rings, I couldn’t help but recall Liu Tingting—did she still wear the one I’d given her?

I laughed bitterly at myself, feeling a pain I could not name—if, indeed, I still had a heart to feel it. Pocketing the box, I swam out before the Taizu could notice me, breaking the surface of the river.

The old man was still locked in battle with the demon dragon, and now the Corpse King had joined the fray. On closer inspection, it seemed the Corpse King was fighting on the old man’s side. I stealthily drew near, aimed at the demon dragon’s one remaining eye, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck its eyelid and ricocheted away. Damn. I holstered the revolver and charged in with my Ice Sword; if not for the Corpse King’s well-timed kick to the dragon’s head, my shot would have blinded it.

At some point, the old man had produced a length of rope. One end featured a handle about a foot long; the other bore a half-foot-long, scorpion-tail-like barb. He whipped it through the air with a whistle. The Corpse King leapt onto the demon dragon’s head, its talons glinting as they plunged into the beast’s skull, but then seemed to get stuck, and the Corpse King strained to pull free. The dragon, maddened by pain, thrashed its head with all its might. I timed my move, landing beside the Corpse King, whose free claw rose defensively.

I glanced at the Corpse King. “Don’t worry, you’re not my target.” Understanding me, he resumed trying to wrench his talon free. I pressed my revolver to the demon dragon’s eye and fired. Blood spattered everywhere, dyeing my clothes crimson. At the same instant, the old man’s rope shot forward, the barbed tip striking true between the dragon’s brows.

With a thunderous crash, the demon dragon collapsed, and the Corpse King finally wrenched his claw free. The old man retrieved his rope and approached, eyeing the Corpse King warily, who in turn guarded himself with his claws, eyes fixed on us. The dragon was dead. Now it was time to deal with the Corpse King. Brothers of the Azure Dragon Sect—this day, I will avenge you.

I signaled the old man to stand back, then switched my revolver for the Ice Sword and brought it down toward the Corpse King’s face. He raised both claws to block; I quickly kicked at his abdomen, but he twisted aside, pushing my sword away and evading the blow.

I pressed on, sweeping the blade toward his neck with a gust of wind. The Corpse King fell back, one hand bracing on the ground as he flipped head over heels into the air. From above, he attacked like a malevolent spirit, talons slashing down. I raised my Ice Sword to parry, both hands straining; the impact sent him flying three meters away, where he landed lightly.

I resumed my assault, weaving the Thirty-Six Demonic Forms into my swordplay. The Corpse King met my attacks with his claws. In terms of speed, he surpassed me, deftly countering every strike. Gradually, I grew winded. Gasping, I drove my sword into the ground for support. Sensing my weakness, the Corpse King instantly teleported before me, one claw reaching for my throat.

But then, his claw stopped just short. Embedding my sword in the earth had been a ploy to lure him close—my left hand now held the revolver, pressed to his eye. Having seen me shoot out the demon dragon’s eye, he knew its power and halted his attack.

“I’ve lost,” he rasped. To my shock, the Corpse King could speak. I’d assumed he was only semi-conscious, able to understand but not reply. I holstered my weapon and asked, “What exactly are you?” Even as I spoke, I realized the question was wrong. “I mean, are you human or corpse?”

“Half human, half corpse, I suppose,” he said, clutching his head as if in pain. I approached, studying him: his eyes were deep black, indistinguishable from a human’s. The first time I saw him, they’d been red—how had they changed? His entire body was covered in a black, scale-like substance, as tough as fish scales and, at a minimum, bulletproof.

The old man came over. “What’s going on, young friend?”

I spread my hands helplessly. “I have no idea. Let’s ask him.”

In a hoarse voice, the Corpse King revealed his story. He had been dead for many years, but for reasons unknown, his body never decayed. A few days ago, a fist-sized stone struck him, embedding itself deep in his chest. He awoke, looked around, and realized he was in a coffin. After much effort, fragments of memory returned.

He couldn’t understand why a long-dead corpse had come back to life. Deciding to investigate, he broke out of the coffin. He soon discovered he could use earth-shielding powers to move unimpeded underground. While passing through a forest, tangled roots blocked his path. As he prepared to surface, he saw numerous zombies gnawing on something among the roots. Approaching, he saw it was human flesh. The lesser zombies, seeing him, stopped, their gaze full of awe.

Ignoring them, he was about to move on when footsteps sounded ahead. He hid behind a tree, peering out. The lesser zombies burst from the earth, and two groups clashed violently. The Corpse King found he could see underground from the surface. One zombie was dragging a person lying on the ground. Acting quickly, he used his earth-shielding powers to drive the lesser zombies away. Accidentally touching the person, a black mist emanated from his hand. Alarmed, he withdrew. Realizing his appearance would be easily mistaken for a monster, he decided to stay hidden, watching the fight, hoping to drag someone down to ask what year it was. Unexpectedly, his actions led to a misunderstanding on both sides, resulting in the chaos in the woods.

“So that’s what happened. But why didn’t you explain yourself at the time?” I asked, noticing the moisture in his eyes.

He looked at his blackened hands. “I couldn’t speak then. Only after drinking the blood of the water spirit beast did I discover I could talk.” So the demon dragon had been drawn out by the Corpse King; the water spirit beast had fled into the underground tunnel, and the dragon, seeking to devour the Corpse King, had followed.

Now everything was clear. As for the Corpse King’s resurrection, I suspected it was related to the stars. Since he was not an enemy, I had no reason to trouble him. Watching his retreating figure, I sighed softly.

“What will you do now, old sir?” I asked.

Still smiling, the old man replied, “I shall continue cultivating in the Black Dragon Pool. After a thousand years underwater, I’m not quite used to being above it.”

“In that case, I’ll take my leave. Take care, old sir.” With that, I stepped into the void and soared up into the clouds.