Section 118 (Part 2) Lin Qiye: Could you perform that for me one more time?

A thunderous sound echoed, filled with rage and a trace of agony. The Son of the Underworld vanished from his spot in an instant, reappearing in the distance. He gazed alertly toward the shattered firmament, where an incredibly terrifying aura emanated.

"Judging by the ripples of that aura, it is actually a notch stronger than I am?" The Son of the Underworld felt a prickling sensation across his scalp.

Above, in the pitch-black sky, black energy—evil to the extreme—churned and boiled. A celestial body draped in monstrous flames collapsed the very heavens and descended into this world. However, it was tainted; corpse energy, death energy, resentment, and the endless negative energies of greed, hatred, and ignorance were all intertwined within it, chaotic and uncontrollable.

The Son of the Underworld raised an eyebrow. Those energies—the corpse, death, and resentment—were things he had casually shoved into the altar. He had not expected them to contaminate the entity within, nor that this mysterious demon would fall victim to such corruption. A dark premonition settled in his heart.

"Did I fall into a trap? Was the person who wrote me that letter merely using me to draw its hatred?" The Son of the Underworld realized something was wrong, but it was too late to flee. The monster had arrived.

It was a hybrid of a mantis and an octopus. Its upper body featured sharp, extendable "blades," with eight "spear" weapons lining its chest, while its lower body consisted of eight tentacles. Wings on its back allowed it to hover in the void. Above its head, a towering Dharma image stood like a mountain, its massive wings casting a shadow that blotted out all light. As it descended into the Empress's universe, the image shrank rapidly into its body, transforming it into a three-meter-tall killing machine radiating a sickly green hue.

The baleful aura was so dense that even Lin Qiye, watching from afar and waiting for the battle to unfold, felt his heart skip a beat.

"Truly powerful... Whether it is the Son of the Underworld with his three billion zombies, or the puppet celestial body summoned by the Immortal Invocation Plan, both are invincible." Lin Qiye mused. "But... they are going to fight."

He did not pry too deeply, lest he be detected and draw their combined wrath. He chose instead to sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight.

***

Boom!

The pyramid altar was crushed to dust by the arrival of the puppet celestial body. The Son of the Underworld commanded his zombies to retreat rapidly, but the puppet’s killing intent was locked firmly onto him.

"You think you can run? You contaminated my ceremony, causing the Ghost Thunder to fail and weakening my projection!" The puppet roared. "You will pay with your life!"

With those words, the puppet slashed with its dual blades. A brilliant green light sliced through space, the blades elongating infinitely as they swept through a sea of zombies.

"Splat! Splat!"

Tens of thousands of zombies were pulverized in a single stroke. The attack did not end there; the blades whipped toward the Son of the Underworld like two pythons capable of destroying everything. Even with the strength of three billion zombies, the Son of the Underworld felt the danger. He quickly condensed two long dragons of corpse energy to collide with the blades.

"Boom!"

The Son of the Underworld was sent flying back over a thousand meters. "Damn it! I barely managed to block that? No, I need to condense more advanced corpse-puppet seals to become stronger."

His face grew stern. He began to condense more refined seals while fending off the puppet. On the horizon, the Son of the Underworld was repeatedly sent flying, but the distance he was pushed back grew shorter and shorter—from thousands of meters to hundreds, then dozens, until finally, he stood firm against the onslaught of the dual blades.

"You thought... I was no match for you?!"

The Son of the Underworld’s combat power surged. Giant dragons of green corpse energy crashed into the puppet, forcing it to retreat in turn.

"You are growing stronger?" The puppet sounded bewildered.

The Son of the Underworld sneered. "I am invincible under the heavens; did you think that was just talk?"

With those words, his strength climbed another level. The terrifying aura made the puppet shudder.

"You are getting weaker," the Son of the Underworld taunted, his eyes glinting with greedy, knowing interest. "I have figured it out. You aren't a true immortal, are you? You are filled with death energy. You are just a discarded husk of an immortal, aren't you? You aren't an immortal at all—or at best, a half-immortal. No, not even that. You are merely a weapon."

He licked his lips. "If that is the case, I can control you! If I can master you, I can become a true half-immortal!"

His combat prowess became ferocious, stimulated by the puppet. Dragons of corpse energy fell like meteors, burying the puppet into the earth with every strike.

The puppet’s eyes sharpened. "I have seen through you as well. Your power comes from those little bugs, doesn't it? Then, you are finished."

The Dharma image behind the puppet suddenly rose, wielding a ten-thousand-meter-long blade that swept across the battlefield. Zombies died in droves; in an instant, hundreds of thousands were reduced to powder. The Son of the Underworld’s aura dipped.

The puppet grinned. The Dharma image writhed and burst, revealing eight tentacles stained with evil energy. Each scale on the tentacles opened to reveal shimmering, razor-sharp blades. As the tentacles churned, over a million zombies were slaughtered in moments. Both the tentacles and the blades sprayed evil energy, preventing the zombies from regenerating.

"Splat! Splat!"

Zombies burst like overripe fruit. The puppet slaughtered tirelessly, wiping out millions of zombies per second. Ten million in a minute. One hundred million in ten minutes! The sheer speed of the massacre made the Son of the Underworld’s scalp numb.

"I cannot let this monster keep killing my zombies!" The loss of one hundred million caused him immense pain. He commanded his zombies to withdraw, spread his arms, and let out a piercing howl.

Above, a melodious dragon roar shook the heavens, the earth trembled, and space shattered. A corpse dragon, ten thousand meters long and glowing with a ghostly green light, emerged from the clouds. It was wrapped in dense death energy and resentment, dripping with rot that turned everything it touched a murky gray.

"Kill!" The Son of the Underworld slammed his palms down.

The giant dragon lunged. The puppet turned, its Dharma image lashing out with chain-blades and tentacles to engage in close-quarters combat. Before long, the corpse dragon was crushed into a sky full of corpse energy.

The puppet chuckled. "I am a true immortal, and you... are nothing but an ant."

The puppet’s combat power spiked, turning it into a relentless killing machine. The Son of the Underworld fought desperately to stop it, but in a battle of this magnitude, the mere shockwaves were enough to kill divine-level experts. With three billion zombies, the slaughter lasted over three hours until only one billion remained.

The Son of the Underworld’s expression was ghastly. The entire Demon Emperor’s imperial city had been leveled; mountains within a hundred miles were reduced to rubble, and the surrounding life withered away. The heavens turned dim, and the rivers became stagnant pools of death.

The battle reached a fever pitch. The puppet was battered, its internal energy beginning to fluctuate, while the Son of the Underworld’s aura was steadily declining. Both were fighting for their lives, keeping the battle at a stalemate.

The Son of the Underworld was in agony—his three billion zombies were down to a billion and still falling. Fury burned in his eyes. "Kill! Kill! Kill! I have already paid the price of two billion zombies! I must turn this thing into my puppet!"

He collided with the puppet again, more viciously than ever. The statistics of the slaughter reached into the billions. Finally, the aura of the puppet began to reach the brink of collapse. It was running out of steam!

The Son of the Underworld wore a cruel smile. He had lost almost all his zombies, but to gain a puppet celestial body was worth it. Perhaps he could comprehend a higher level of seal-making!

"It's over!"

The Son of the Underworld spread his hands. Thousands of corpse dragons erupted from the ground. "This is the final requiem of three billion zombies! Die and become my puppet!"

The dragons struck the puppet from all directions, sending it flying like a target in a shooting gallery. After a thousand strikes, the puppet’s consciousness flickered out, completely eroded by the corpse energy.

"Finally dead! You damn thing, you cost me three billion zombies..." The Son of the Underworld panted heavily, looking at the remnants of his army. Only ten million remained.

But as he looked at the corpse of the puppet, his greed returned. This was a true immortal husk! Its value far exceeded any mere soldier!

"Hahahahaha!" He laughed, his voice echoing across the heavens. "With this celestial body, I shall be invincible!"

Two hundred miles away, the Demon Emperor and his high-ranking demons watched in terror. Was this still a human? He had even destroyed the immortal object summoned by the Demon race! Who in this world could stop him?

However, at that very moment, dense, razor-sharp threads of lightning appeared around the puppet’s body, weaving it into a "golden shroud." These threads radiated a scent of utter annihilation.

"Zing!"

In a flash, the threads tightened. They acted like blades, slicing the puppet into fine dust.

It happened so fast that the Son of the Underworld didn't even realize what was happening until the puppet had vanished into nothingness. The smile on his face froze.

"Who?! Who is it?!"

The Son of the Underworld’s mind exploded. He looked at the dust where the puppet had been, his eyes bloodshot. "Who is it?! Come out! You coward, hiding in the shadows!"

A youth slowly revealed himself. Tall, handsome, with cold, indifferent features, he looked down at the Son of the Underworld. It was none other than Lin Qiye. He could not allow the puppet to fall into the hands of the Son of the Underworld, so he had struck decisively to annihilate it.

"It is I." Lin Qiye smiled faintly. "Son of the Underworld, right? We crossed paths in Jiang City. This is our second time."

Lin Qiye’s smile was mocking. "Three billion zombies—how did the power-up feel? Comfortable, wasn't it? Feeling invincible?"

"Could you perform it again?" Lin Qiye chuckled. "That bit where you stood in the void, arms spread wide, shouting: 'When the time comes, heaven and earth lend me their power; like a Great Emperor rising on the wind, soaring ninety thousand miles'? That Chuuni performance?"

The Son of the Underworld’s face darkened instantly. "Are you mocking me?!"

"No," Lin Qiye shook his head. "I just wanted to see you perform it one more time."