Chapter Sixty-Two: Run, My Foot!

Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to Jiang Yuan’s domineering and arrogant declaration. Though his words brimmed with authority, they somehow inspired confidence in all who heard them.

Upon seeing that his king, for whom he had held out for so long, had finally arrived, Wen Zhong’s eyes welled with tears. The last breath of strength left him, and at last, unable to endure any longer, he collapsed into unconsciousness.

“Grand Preceptor, Grand Preceptor, what’s wrong?” Deng Zhong hurriedly supported Wen Zhong, his voice filled with worry.

The High Priest burst into laughter. “Hahaha! Wen Zhong, in the end, you couldn’t hold out after all, could you? The Curse of Corpse Transformation has already spread completely within him. Even an immortal couldn’t save him now! You can only stand by and watch as the body of your Grand Preceptor decays, turning to rot and bone. What a pity—such a high minister of your Shang Dynasty, and not even his corpse will remain whole in the end. Truly lamentable.”

“You beast! I’ll fight you to the death!” Deng Zhong roared in fury.

He charged at the High Priest, wielding his Mountain-Cleaving Axe, but with a casual wave of the priest’s hand, Deng Zhong was sent flying seven or eight yards back.

There was simply no comparison—the difference in strength was too vast. A Golden Immortal could defeat a Celestial of Deng Zhong’s level without feeling the slightest pressure.

“Vengeance for the Grand Preceptor!” Deng Zhong shouted.

The soldiers who had come with the Grand Preceptor instantly leapt to action, each gripping their spears with a look that said they would fight to the death.

“Stop!!!”

The voice came from Jiang Yuan, whose expression was icy cold as he turned to Deng Zhong and the others, his tone furious. “What are you doing? I am already here, and yet you’re still trying to throw your lives away?”

“The Grand Preceptor is not dead yet, but you all seem so eager to go after him?”

“But the Grand Preceptor…” Deng Zhong hesitated, his concern plain to see. Even without spelling it out, it was obvious—Wen Zhong’s current state seemed utterly hopeless.

The High Priest, seeing their distress, felt even greater delight. “Hahahaha! You’re right—now that Wen Zhong has fainted, the Curse of Corpse Transformation within him will run rampant without his power to restrain it. He’ll be nothing but a corpse in no time!”

Jiang Yuan, however, remained completely composed. He ordered Zhang Kui, “Go and give that so-called High Priest of the Corpse Tribe a thorough beating, and bring him before me.”

“Yes, my king,” Zhang Kui answered respectfully.

After Zhang Kui departed, Nezha eagerly approached Jiang Yuan. “Old Jiang, what about me?” he asked, eyes sparkling with anticipation—he clearly wanted to join the fight.

“You go help as well. Slay everyone from the Corpse Tribe around the Grand Preceptor,” Jiang Yuan replied calmly.

“Alright!” With permission granted, Nezha sped off, summoning his mystical treasures as he went, determined not to miss a single moment of the battle.

Jiang Yuan, meanwhile, quickly moved to Wen Zhong’s side. Looking down at the Grand Preceptor, who was already on the brink of death, Jiang Yuan felt a pang of guilt within him.

“How long has the Grand Preceptor been cursed?” Jiang Yuan asked Deng Zhong, his brows tightly knit.

Character: Deng Zhong
Title: General of the Shang Dynasty
Realm: Celestial
Possessions: Mountain-Cleaving Axe, Golden Armor
Martial Art: Inverse Yin-Yang Axe Method
Mount: Five-Colored Golden-Eyed Dragon
Loyalty: 80
Favorability: 80
Potential Tyrant Value: 100

It seemed that the generals trained by the Grand Preceptor were all steadfastly loyal to the Shang Dynasty.

“Your Majesty, the Grand Preceptor has endured the curse for a full day and night,” Deng Zhong replied respectfully.

No wonder Wen Zhong was in such dire straits. If it had been an ordinary person, their body would have decayed long ago.

“System, will the Supreme Exorcism Pill work against the curse afflicting the Grand Preceptor?” Jiang Yuan asked inwardly.

“Yes.”

Hearing the definite response, Jiang Yuan finally breathed a sigh of relief. As long as there was hope, all was not lost.

“Your Majesty, is there truly no way to save the Grand Preceptor?” Deng Zhong and the others asked anxiously.

It was clear to all that the Grand Preceptor had only been clinging to life because he’d heard the king’s voice. Now that Jiang Yuan had arrived, and his last wishes were fulfilled, that final breath of will had left him. Truly, not even an immortal could save him.

“As long as I am here, nothing is impossible. Do not worry—the Grand Preceptor will be fine.” Jiang Yuan’s tone was calm and assured.

With that, he withdrew a Supreme Exorcism Pill from his storage space. The pill glowed with a faint golden hue, surrounded by a subtle yellow aura. A single glance was enough to know that this was a peerless treasure.

“Give this to the Grand Preceptor,” Jiang Yuan said, handing the pill to Deng Zhong.

Deng Zhong received the pill, his heart pounding with excitement. Just by touching it, he could sense the immense energy and mystical power it contained.

He had a strong feeling that perhaps this pill truly could pull the Grand Preceptor back from the edge of death.

He had never doubted his king. If there was anyone in the world who most wished for the Grand Preceptor’s survival, it was surely His Majesty.

Wen Zhong was Jiang Yuan’s staunchest supporter. Even knowing the king’s misdeeds in Zhaoge, the Grand Preceptor never voiced any dissatisfaction—only disappointment and anger, longing to go to Zhaoge himself and give the king a piece of his mind.

Yet, for the sake of the greater good, he had come to vent his frustrations on the Corpse Tribe instead, nearly losing his life in the process.

If the pill bestowed by the king failed, then the Grand Preceptor’s fate would be sealed.

After handing the pill to Deng Zhong, Jiang Yuan no longer concerned himself with the Grand Preceptor, but turned his attention instead to the battle between Zhang Kui and the High Priest.

He glanced at the High Priest’s status panel.

Character: Corpse Night
Title: High Priest of the Corpse Tribe
Realm: Golden Immortal
Possessions: Ritual Staff, Hundred Scrolls of Sorcery
Martial Art: Forbidden Tome of the White Cloud
Mount: Red-Badger Horse
Loyalty: 0
Favorability: 0
Potential Tyrant Value: 300

Seeing the three hundred Tyrant Value attached to the High Priest, Jiang Yuan’s eyes lit up. He shouted to Zhang Kui, “General Zhang, you must capture him alive!”

“I obey!” Zhang Kui found a moment amid the fight to respond.

With Jiang Yuan’s command, Zhang Kui fought all the harder. His Thunderblade became a blur of afterimages, and his figure shifted ceaselessly through the space. Under Jiang Yuan’s guidance, Zhang Kui’s power had grown considerably, and at least in terms of cultivation, he was now more than a match for the High Priest. In fact, the one at a disadvantage was the priest himself.

After a day and night of confrontation with Wen Zhong and his men, the High Priest’s spirit was depleted, and maintaining the costly curse on Wen Zhong sapped him further. He was in a truly dire state.

He began to consider escape. After all, Wen Zhong was as good as dead—his goal had been achieved. As for the Corpse Tribe, he had built it himself, and if it was destroyed, so be it. He could always found another tribe elsewhere. The Shang Dynasty would never spare him now.

Seizing his chance, the High Priest slipped from the battle when Zhang Kui let his guard down.

“Mountains stand, rivers flow—Human Emperor, just wait in Zhaoge for the Witch Tribe to come for you!” Corpse Night sneered.

Zhang Kui was deeply frustrated—he had let the priest escape in a moment of carelessness. If he hadn’t feared killing him by accident, he wouldn’t have held back.

“Damn you, get back here!” cried a youthful voice—Nezha. Zhang Kui was surprised; he hadn’t expected Nezha to finish off the other enemies so quickly.

Just as Corpse Night was about to make his escape, Nezha hurled his Universe Ring, striking the priest squarely on the forehead and leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

Though Nezha’s cultivation was not as high as Corpse Night’s, his magical treasures were without equal, and with the priest’s power nearly exhausted, Nezha’s ambush was overwhelmingly effective.

At that moment, Corpse Night could only curse inwardly—this young upstart had the nerve to ambush him!