Chapter 130: The Battle for Survival

Xing Bing had deliberately chosen a secluded spot.

They were in a dark, overgrown grove. Glancing around, Fan Liu felt cold sweat instantly bead on his forehead, his grip tightening involuntarily on the corpse jar he held.

"Fan Liu, you are a clever man. Hand over the corpse jar!"

Seeing Fan Liu’s fear, the layers of flesh on Xing Bing’s face twitched slightly. He let out a sinister chuckle, his tone brook no argument.

"Senior Brother Xing, could you leave me some? I only need this one jar to meet my sect contribution quota..." Fan Liu stopped abruptly mid-sentence, for in Xing Bing’s eyes, he saw a glimmer of cold, murderous intent.

Fan Liu secretly regretted revealing the truth.

Within the Earth Corpse Sect, there were no rigid rules; even fratricide was tacitly permitted. As long as your strength was sufficient, you could kill, provided you could ensure your own survival afterward. Every disciple in the Earth Corpse Sect possessed strange and eerie supernatural powers, and no one knew who the next to die might be.

This time, if Fan Liu successfully met his contribution quota, he would earn the chance to enter the Ten Thousand Corpse Cave. His powers would naturally increase significantly upon his return. Xing Bing had frequently bullied Fan Liu and the others, so he naturally did not want to see Fan Liu ever get ahead.

This was the nature of a villain—consumed by intense jealousy.

"Hand it all over!"

Xing Bing’s gaze was like a blade as he issued his threat.

Fan Liu hesitated, his mind locked in a fierce internal struggle. If he handed over the jar, he would fail his task and likely be thrown out to feed the living corpses. If he didn't, Xing Bing, who was no kind soul, would almost certainly resort to force.

Either way, it was a death sentence!

A flash of desperation crossed Fan Liu's eyes!

Taking advantage of a moment when Xing Bing’s guard was down, he spat out a pitch-black bone blade, aiming it directly at Xing Bing’s throat.

Fan Liu was gambling on luck, and on his own life! If he won, his path ahead would be clear; if he lost, the only outcome was death.

However, Fan Liu’s strength was only at the eighth stage of the Mortal Astral Realm, a vast gap compared to Xing Bing, who was at the tenth stage and possessed a Natal Corpse.

Xing Bing had not expected Fan Liu to strike, as he was certain the man would not dare.

Yet, even with the bone blade piercing his throat, Xing Bing did not blink. With a ferocious expression, he reached up and pulled the blade from his neck, bit by bit.

"A nice blade, but it’s not enough to kill me!"

The blade was removed. The hole in his neck remained, but no blood flowed from the wound, and it began to knit together at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"This..."

Fan Liu was horrified; he clearly had not anticipated this.

"Could it be... a Natal Corpse?"

Xing Bing let out a loud, savage laugh. With a surge of strength, he crushed the bone blade with his hand, snapping it in two. Fan Liu, whose mind was connected to the weapon, immediately vomited a mouthful of blood.

"You guessed right. My Natal Corpse is a Mysterious-grade Demonic Corpse. Trying to kill me, heh, it’s not that easy!"

His attack having failed, Fan Liu seemed to resign himself to fate, yet the desire to live remained. He pleaded bitterly, "Senior Brother, please, spare me this once!"

Fan Liu knew his strength was lacking; he was no match for Xing Bing. To survive, he could only beg. But in the Earth Corpse Sect, weakness was an invitation for exploitation and increased cruelty.

Xing Bing smiled, a smile both evil and ferocious.

He relished this feeling—the thrill of controlling another’s life and death, watching them beg for mercy.

"In your next life, remember not to join this sect. You have the ruthlessness, but you aren't vicious enough!" As he spoke, Xing Bing’s right arm turned pitch black. Before Fan Liu’s horrified eyes, it transformed into a scaly, horny claw. It elongated and expanded, turning into a bizarre, massive limb that descended upon Fan Liu like a shroud.

"Corpse Scale Claw!"

Xing Bing was certain of his victory with this strike, but he had underestimated Fan Liu’s desperation. In his final moment of despair, Fan Liu hardened his heart and hurled the corpse jar he was clutching directly at Xing Bing.

With a loud bang, the jar shattered upon impact with the Corpse Scale Claw.

A flash of thick, black mist erupted, and over three hundred corpses contained within materialized out of thin air, burying Xing Bing beneath a mound of bodies. Simultaneously, Fan Liu did not retreat but surged forward, picking up the broken half of his bone blade and hacking wildly at the spot where Xing Bing lay buried.

Blow after blow, Fan Liu used every ounce of his strength and every shred of his mystic energy. He did not know if he was hacking at corpses or Xing Bing himself; he only knew that to survive, he had to mince everything before him into paste!

Only if Xing Bing died could he live!

Blood and sweat mingled on Fan Liu’s face, and the webbing between his thumb and index finger split from the force of gripping the broken blade.

Countless severed limbs and scraps of flesh flew into the air, accompanied by a rain of blood.

Fan Liu himself was drenched in gore.

Finally, with a sickening crunch, the blade lodged deep into bone. A low roar followed, and the mound of flesh and bone was blasted apart. Xing Bing emerged from the pile, covered in wounds.

Xing Bing was not dead, but his appearance had become far more terrifying.

Half of his head had nearly been sliced off by the bone blade, which remained lodged in his skull. Even so, he still lived.

Fan Liu fell into despair!

His mystic energy was exhausted, his techniques spent, yet Xing Bing still stood!

Watching Xing Bing step toward him, Fan Liu collapsed powerlessly to the ground. He could imagine the pain of the moment the other man would reach out to twist off his head, or perhaps, in his madness, the crazed Xing Bing might even devour him to heal his own wounds...

"You little bastard, you deserve to die!"

Xing Bing was truly insane with rage. He had not expected to be pushed to such a brink by Fan Liu; if not for the extraordinary powers of his Natal Corpse, he would have died twice over.

Raising the Corpse Scale Claw, he gripped Fan Liu’s head and hoisted him up, bringing him face-to-face.

Xing Bing cackled wildly.

"Little bastard, you’re still going to die by my hands!"

As he spoke, Xing Bing squeezed with all his might.

But just as Xing Bing felt triumphant and Fan Liu closed his eyes in despair, a tiny, slender black snake slithered from the gaping wound in the back of Xing Bing’s head and burrowed inside.

Xing Bing felt a sharp pain in his brain and instantly lost all consciousness.

The hand gripping Fan Liu’s head froze in mid-air.

After a long while, feeling no pain, Fan Liu opened his eyes in confusion. He stared blankly at Xing Bing, whose eyes were wide open, unable to fathom what had happened.

"Could it be... am I saved? Am I not going to die?"

But just as Fan Liu wiped the cold sweat from his brow, he watched in horror as Xing Bing’s dull, lifeless eyes suddenly twitched and locked onto him once more.

"Gulp!"

Fan Liu’s heart sank back into his throat.