Chapter Sixty-Eight: Fierce Battle with the Jade Zombie

A moment later, an overwhelming aura shattered the forest’s barriers, and from within strode a giant green corpse, just over five meters tall. Its skin was a ghastly green without festering sores or boils, every muscle taut and rigid, as waves of corpse poison drifted from its pores like mist, causing the nearby flowers and grasses to wither and die.

The creature’s face was eerily featureless—no eyes, nose, or mouth—only tangled, jet-black hair cascading over where its visage should be. Pausing at the edge of the woods, it seemed to appraise Zhou Bai and his companions. Then, with a sudden, thunderous stride, it advanced, the earth groaning beneath its step and leaving behind a deep pit.

The monstrous presence pressed closer, its aura almost tangible.

“How are we supposed to fight this…” muttered Daoist Hou, swallowing hard. His own mystical arts were still at their very beginnings, and his previous cultivation had been lost; apprehension gnawed at his heart. Facing such a terrifying specter, he instinctively stepped back, but the sense of death only grew stronger.

Glancing back toward Hangdu City with wary eyes, Daoist Hou did not immediately flee.

Meanwhile, Zhou Bai focused all his strength into his Yin-Yang Sight, searching for any weakness on the green corpse. Yet the ghostly energy flowed through it in seamless unity—no flaw could be discerned.

There was little time to prepare. With a crow’s cry echoing through the darkness, the green corpse stomped violently, vanishing from its spot with a deafening bang. Of those present, only Zhou Bai could barely follow the monster’s movements.

However, Bocheng Hou had long been prepared, taking a central and forward position. At the very instant the corpse moved, so did he. His silver spear melted into his armor, which then liquefied and surged from his hands, forming a massive iron shield, four meters across, enveloping everyone behind its protection.

The green corpse’s fist crashed against the shield, a shockwave erupting from the impact and denting the iron barrier. Seizing the opportunity, Yu Jun and Zhou Bai slipped out from behind the shield, flanking their foe from left and right. To avoid the deadly miasma, they held their breath as they launched their assault.

The two pressed in, testing the creature with cautious strikes to guard against any sudden reprisal. Yet the green corpse ignored them, raining blows on the iron shield with relentless fury; no matter how sturdy, cracks began to spider across its surface.

Then, with a vicious kick, the entire shield shattered into fragments.

To their astonishment, as the shield broke apart, the green corpse’s first target was Daoist Hou. Its right hand lunged at him with alarming speed. Cursing under his breath, Daoist Hou snatched up the largest chunk of shield and rolled clumsily across the ground, narrowly evading the attack.

Seeing an opening, Yu Jun, transformed into a leopard, clung tightly to the monster, denying it the space to unleash that terrifying speed again—none of them could survive another such burst.

The refugee camp was utterly silent; people cowered behind makeshift shelters, too afraid even to breathe loudly. The battle between the Directorate of the Underworld and the ghostly creature was fierce, and even the residual force shattered nearby shelters into splinters.

Zhou Bai steadied himself. Though the green corpse was indeed formidable, it was not invincible, especially with Yu Jun and Bocheng Hou present—their experience fighting such monsters was evident.

Zhou Bai soon found an opportunity amidst the chaos. Appearing behind the green corpse, he slashed at it, leaving a long, narrow wound along its flesh. He was surprised to have injured it at all; when facing the white corpse at Panshan Temple, he’d barely managed to pierce its hide.

But then he understood: not only had his own strength grown, but the executioner’s blade in his hand had also been transformed, no longer a mere mortal weapon.

The green corpse felt no pain, continuing its relentless assault on Daoist Hou even as it was attacked from behind.

“Damn you, corpse! Why torment your fellow undead!” Daoist Hou cried.

The shards of iron shield before him splintered further, but the green corpse remained oblivious to Zhou Bai and Yu Jun’s attacks, intent on landing another blow.

At this moment, Bocheng Hou stepped protectively before Daoist Hou, his armor melding into his skin as his entire body began to transmute—skin, muscle, veins, and bones all turning to shining metal. For the Directorate, achieving this true form was only the first step of cultivation, but even so, many were stuck at this stage; few, like Bocheng Hou, could attain it through human spiritual arts.

His fist met the green corpse’s attack; though he was pushed back several steps by the sheer force, his metallic body remained unscathed.

Zhou Bai raised his brow, unable to help but think, “The Directorate is full of talent—demon hunters and iron giants alike…”

His musings did not slow his actions. Seizing the moment, he leaped into the air and brought his blade down hard on the green corpse’s shoulder, cleaving off a chunk of flesh and shattered bone.

Not to be outdone, Yu Jun slashed with beastly claws at the creature’s knee, split muscle erupting on either side of its thigh, causing the green corpse to stagger and nearly topple.

“I’ve tolerated you long enough,” Daoist Hou spat. Though unable to contribute much in the fight, frustration burned within him. He pulled out his last two thunder talismans from his shoe, gripping one in each hand.

With great effort, he channeled his feeble ghostly energy to ignite the charms, his face growing pale with exertion.

With a crackle, two streaks of red lightning shot from his hands, striking the green corpse squarely. Unlike the yang lightning conjured from true qi, these talismans, powered by ghostly energy, produced yin lightning.

Though yang lightning was deadliest to specters, yin lightning was stealthier, faster, and harder to guard against.

The twin bolts punched fist-sized craters into the green corpse, its aura faltering and chaotic.

Seizing this advantage, the tide of battle turned—Zhou Bai and his allies pressed the attack, inflicting wound after wound. Even in the thick night, with ghostly energy thick in the air, the green corpse could not heal fast enough—its losses outpaced its recovery.

Still, the group did not emerge unscathed.

A claw mark streaked across Zhou Bai’s chest, corpse poison spreading through the wound, but the ghost tree within him quickly neutralized it. Yu Jun, having taken several blows directly, felt her bones begin to fracture, her complexion turning faintly purple from the poison, though a timely elixir staved off disaster.

As the outcome became clear—victory gradually tipping toward them—Zhou Bai abandoned the thought of unleashing a deadly curse.

Yet a faint unease lingered in his heart. If this were a game of chess, and the opponent had made such a blatant move, there must surely be a hidden ploy waiting in the shadows.