Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Finale Unveiled!

Zhang Kui and Nezha flew forward together.

Jiang Yuan was not worried about their safety in the slightest. After all, the Necro Tribe still needed to trap Wen Zhong; although he didn’t know Wen Zhong’s true strength, judging from the entire calamity of the Investiture of the Gods, Wen Zhong alone practically held up the late Shang Dynasty. His power certainly wasn’t much inferior to Zhang Kui’s current level.

If they needed to confine such a formidable figure, the force they could spare would be severely limited.

As expected, the Necro Tribe’s high priest shared this view. Wen Zhong’s strength was already the pinnacle at the Eastern Yi border; theoretically, there shouldn’t be another expert of Wen Zhong’s caliber among the Shang’s garrison on that frontier.

As for the King of Shang, he wasn’t even factored into their calculations. It was common knowledge that the Human Emperor could never cultivate to advanced realms.

The Second Elder, Corpse Lin, was already the strongest combatant the Necro Tribe could spare. Any more, and Wen Zhong might break free from their encirclement.

Indeed, Wen Zhong’s strength was terrifying. Even after being struck by the Secret Art of Heavenly Fiend Corpse Transformation, none in the Necro Tribe could match him. They could only rely on sheer numbers, forming arrays and curses to wear him down.

Corpse Lin approached, leading a large group of Necro Tribe shamans. He glared at Zhang Kui and Nezha, demanding, “Who are you?”

Zhang Kui responded with a cold sneer, “Isn’t it obvious? We’re here to take your wretched life!”

Corpse Lin was enraged.

“How arrogant! Form the array, prepare the curse!”

The clansmen he brought along were all below the realm of True Immortal. Their sole purpose was sacrifice—to fuel a curse. The stronger the curse, the higher the cost; these shamans had been reduced to mere sacrifices.

Yet, judging by their expressions, they showed no resentment, seemingly willing to give everything for the tribe. Who knew how deeply the Necro Tribe had beguiled their hearts?

Zhang Kui sensed a faint aura of danger. Clearly, the curse they were about to cast would be far more formidable than the one Corpse Night had used before.

“Nezha, be careful. Don’t underestimate them. The Grand Tutor is a cautionary example!” Zhang Kui warned Nezha.

Nezha replied nonchalantly, “My Eight-Nine Mystical Arts are the least afraid of these flashy tricks.”

“Suit yourself,” Zhang Kui answered offhandedly.

He’d already done his utmost.

Turning to Nezha, Zhang Kui reflected that Nezha’s abilities might even surpass his own; perhaps this curse truly meant nothing to him. Having powerful backing was indeed enviable, Zhang Kui mused inwardly.

“Afraid now? I’ll give you a chance to flee while you still can!” Corpse Ji laughed brazenly.

He secretly hoped Zhang Kui and Nezha would leave. Casting this curse demanded a tremendous price; he had already paid dearly when joining forces with the high priest against Wen Zhong. If he had to deal with these two and then rush back to assist the high priest, it would be more than he could bear.

Nezha looked at Zhang Kui, who glanced back expressionlessly. “What’s wrong? Are you getting cold feet?”

“Of course not!” Nezha hurriedly denied it, then said, “How about we split them fifty-fifty?”

“What do you mean, split fifty-fifty?” Zhang Kui frowned.

“I mean, we each take half; don’t fight me for the kills! Otherwise, I’ll talk bad about you to your king every day. You know I have a good relationship with your king, right?” Nezha threatened.

Zhang Kui’s mouth twitched, staring at Nezha in surprise. He’d heard of discussing how to defeat enemies, but never of negotiating who gets to kill which enemies. This thought process was truly unique—was this the famed little prodigy of brawls?

“Did you hear me?” Nezha urged impatiently.

Zhang Kui nodded woodenly. “Fine.”

He was about to make his move, but Nezha stopped him.

“Wait, there’s one more thing.”

“What now? Can’t you say everything at once?” Zhang Kui was growing impatient.

“This is your king’s instruction. Are you sure you don’t want to listen?” Nezha raised an eyebrow.

Zhang Kui restrained his temper. “Go on.”

“The most powerful elder—you can’t kill him. Neither of us can.” Nezha pondered, then declared solemnly.

Zhang Kui nearly lost it. Did he really need to be told such an obvious thing? The king was clearly cautioning you!

“Understood,” Zhang Kui forced out, suppressing his anger.

“Anything else? Say it now,” he demanded.

Nezha thought for a moment, shook his head, then suddenly remembered something. Instantly, he summoned his true form—three heads and six arms—unleashing all his magical treasures.

“What’s wrong?” Zhang Kui asked, curious.

Nezha said in regret, “Just realized, all this talking gave that old man plenty of time to cast his curse.”

Wasn’t that all because you kept bickering?

“So?” Zhang Kui’s patience was wearing thin.

“So what? Charge him!” Nezha shouted.

Finally, Zhang Kui breathed a sigh of relief—Nezha was acting sensibly at last.

Drawing his Xuanlei Sword, Zhang Kui burrowed into the earth with his Earth Element technique.

Corpse Night shouted urgently, “Do whatever it takes to let this elder finish the curse!”

The Necro Tribe shamans nodded blankly, like puppets. Some charged Nezha, fearless of death; others guarded Corpse Night below, wary of Zhang Kui.

Jiang Yuan watched, suddenly enlightened. No wonder these shamans labored without complaint—they’d been turned into puppets.

The crystal core atop Corpse Night’s staff flickered ceaselessly, a crimson glow within, blood threads weaving through the staff. These threads siphoned the sacrificial tribe members’ life force.

Finally, Corpse Night positioned his staff before him, forming seals with his hands and chanting incantations.

Jiang Yuan frowned, perceiving that such a cruel curse would have powerful effects. If it were successfully cast, it would be no small trouble.

Yet Jiang Yuan did not rush to intervene; after all, protagonists always make their entrance at the climax.

Besides, he hadn’t decided how to deal with this curse. The most direct method would be to interrupt it now, but Jiang Yuan preferred not to.

The Witch Tribe would surely become enemies of humanity in the future, and Jiang Yuan intended to familiarize himself with their techniques.

It wasn’t himself being cursed, after all. Zhang Kui, at the Golden Immortal realm, would be fine. As for Nezha, there was nothing to worry about—young as he was, his body was already tough, and he had Master Taiyi to protect him.

Taiyi would never let Nezha perish before his purpose was fulfilled. Since there was no need to fret, Jiang Yuan naturally chose to make his entrance as the grand finale.