The Immortal Emperor Returns

Chapter 372 Bloodbath

The radiation of the Zombies’ aura churned in dark plume-like smolders rising up the air like fulminating beacons of war.

At their chieftain’s signal, the host of Zombies threw themselves forward.

“Kill them all!”

Yue Fandie thundered a defiant battle cry.

Jing Hong darted to the front, her white cloth lancing through every enemy she found like spears.

Puff! Puff!

Her blows caught two lesser Zombie Kings in the throat. With a shake of her cloth, she channeled jets of energy to destroy their heads.

“Blasted woman!” cried the chieftain, honing in on Jing Hong now.

Meanwhile, another one-armed Eighth-grade Zombie King who had lost its arm to Yue Fandie cried, “Yue Fandie! Time for you to repay the debt you owe me!”

“You managed to escape that day. I’ll never repeat that mistake again,” growled Yue Fandie, charging to meet him in battle.

“You shameless monsters! Come! I, Yan Wushuang, am here!” Yan Wushuang roared loudly, his sword shining with energy as he cut down a Fifth-grade Zombie King.

“You’ll pay for that, Yan Wushuang!” shrieked an Eighth-grade Zombie King, hurling itself at Yan Wushuang and both man and monster leaped into a gritting whirl of steel and rock.

The presbyters of the Sanctuary charged, ramming into the ranks of the Zombies that never stopped coming.

Blood sprayed every inch of the battlefield with broken and severed limbs tossing everywhere.

Right from the moment the clash began, casualties began piling up.

Boom!

The shock from their colliding blows sent both the Zombie chieftain and Jing Hong backward.

Whoosh!

A bolt of cloth shot forth and constricted around the throat of a Zombie King, allowing Jing Hong to use it to steady herself.

She yanked hard the cloth and beheaded the Zombie.

“Damned woman!” howled the Zombie Chieftain in all its Ninth-grade Zombie King frustration. It pounced, viciously clawing out the heart of a Sanctuary presbyter unfortunate enough to be nearby as retaliation.

The fair face of Jing Hong fumed quietly with suppressed anger as her steely gaze threatened to burrow through her foe. Her fingers weaved several hand seals and she conjured a white lotus blossom, sending it into the sky.

The Zombie chieftain raised a claw and fired a rush of black fume-like energy shaped like a demon’s head at the lotus flower.

Boom!

Another pulse of shock wave threw everyone off their feet.

Urghh!

A head as large as a watermelon flew up; Yue Fandie had succeeded in beheading his enemy.

Another head flew up again with greenish ichor spewing richly like a geyser. Yan Wushuang emerged with a horrifying gash across his chest, exposing the bloody flesh inside. At the risk of being cut open, he had succeeded in lopping off the head of his enemy too.

“Bunch of useless wretches!” bellowed Yan Wushuang triumphantly as he raised his sword to casually hew a lesser Zombie he strode past into halves with not even a stain of blood on his blade.

Bang!

He did not see it coming. An Eighth-grade Zombie King dove out of nowhere and ambushed him, sending him crashing down belching blood and froth.

Urghh!

Ugh!

Yan Wushuang drove his sword into the ground to stop himself from collapsing as he threw up more blood. “Leave your head here, Yan Wushuang,” said the Eighth-grade Zombie King smugly, eager to finish him off as its entire frame radiated more dark fulminating fumes.

“Master Yan!” cried Feng Zijian, who was closest to Yan Wushuang. He lunged to his help, firing a blast of Internal Breath.

But he was no threat to the Eight-grade Zombie King. With a simple swat with its claw, it destroyed the energy blast, and with a whoosh, his grotesquely long arms had speared through Feng Zijian’s chest.

“FENG!” Yan Wushuang cried, his eyes bloodshot with anger and anguish. He charged and hacked off the monster’s arm.

The Zombie King wailed a bestial cry. Not expecting Yan Wushuang to be able to move, it swung its claws furiously at him.

With unnerving stillness, Yan Wushuang never flinched nor wavered, never taking his eyes off his foe.

Crack!

The sickening crunch of bones cracking pierced through the din of the battle as the Zombie’s claw smashed through Yan Wushuang’s shoulder. The latter swallowed hard at the pain stabbing through every fiber of his being and he activated his sword, driving it like a lance as it shone with its imbued energy, plunging through its chest and destroying its heart.

“Feng!” Yan Wushuang turned back to his dying comrade.

Feng Zijian’s gaze was turning distant with blood and froth pouring ceaselessly from his mouth.

“N-no regrets…”

With great difficulty, he croaked his last words and he was gone.

“Kill them all!”

Yan Wushuang threw back his head and let loose a maniacal howl of his own, his eyes red with tiny veins.

Urghh!

More blood bestrewed the ground. Yue Fandie staggered backward with a grisly slit on his chest too. Blood dripped out the wound and stained his robes. The onslaught of a pair of Eighth-grade Zombie Kings had overwhelmed him and left him badly hurt.

Boom!

Another exchange between Jing Hong and the Zombie chieftain caused a shock so powerful that it felt like a battering ram, hurtling her away for hundreds of meters. She managed to remain standing, but not without a distinctive trickle of blood escaping the corners of her lips.

But the Zombie chieftain was nowhere near pleased; on his chest was a gaping hole still bleeding green ichor caused by Jing Hong’s attacks.

“SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!” shrieked the chieftain with rage.

More presbyters fell defending the Sanctuary, their blood contributing to the thick red sea drenching the floors of the compound.

The Zombies came prepared; every one of them was immensely powerful and they suffered minimal losses.

“Doom is upon you all. Nothing will save you now,” gloated the Zombie chieftain wickedly.

Bang!

Yue Fandie collapsed, spewing copious amounts of blood. The pair of Eighth-grade Zombie Kings he was fighting against had managed to defeat him.

Urghh!

Yue Hongbo had just slain a Zombie King when another took him by surprise, nearly disemboweling him.

All four sons of Yue Fandie sustained heavy wounds themselves.

With his left shoulder utterly smashed, Yan Wushuang fought to his last breath with his last remaining arm. Still, he was quickly overrun by the sheer number and he was bleeding dry.

Boom!

Dust and sand flew everywhere in a miniature sandstorm kicked up by the latest exchange of blows between Jing Hong and the Zombie chieftain, but she crashed to the ground at last, with blood dripping out her mouth.

“Heh heh heh heh heh” the Zombie chieftain snickered. “Surrender! Abandon your futile resistance!”

Yue Fandie mournfully beheld the dismal sight of his imminent defeat. The ranks of the Sanctuary’s presbyters were all but spent and he, Yan Wushuang, Jing Hong, and the others could not possibly hold on any longer.

“Forebears of the Sanctuary, I, Yue Fandie, hereby convey my deepest regret!” he let loose a howl, pained and wretched, long and sonorous.

“Hahahaha!” the Zombie chieftain guffawed victoriously, “Slaughter them all! So falls the Sanctuary of Tetrarchy this day. They will exist no more and the race of Zombie shall usher in a new age!”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

A litany of claps broke the silence as three strangers entered the fray.

“What an interesting scene. This is worth my coming all the way here.”

A handsome and beautiful young man, dressed in rich chartreuse green robes, drew nearer, flanked by two elderly attendants.

All around them, the battle came to a halt as everyone redirected their attention to the newcomers.

“Who are you?” demanded the Zombie chieftain warily.

It was not the young man – an Eighth-grade Human King – who made him apprehensive, but rather his escorts, the two elderly Ninth-grade Human Kings.

“I am Kong Yiming of the Peacock race,” the young man announced himself with a well-mannered bow.

The Ninth-grade Zombie chieftain stared at Kong Yiming. “It is said that the race of Peacocks keeps mostly to the south. Are you setting your sights upon these parts as well?”

“You misunderstand me, friend. I’m only here because of the tales I’ve been hearing about this human they call the Devil. A man of most described as brutal and high-handed. They say he’s here, at the Sanctuary of Tetrarchy here in faraway northwest, hence I have come to meet him.”

He finished and turned to Yan Wushuang, “Are you him? The infamous Devil?”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Master Kong,” remarked the Zombie chieftain, “He’s not the Devil. The Devil has been missing for three years. No one knows where in which Heaven-forsaken corner of the world he is now.”

“So I am not fated to meet this Devil, I see,” muttered Kong Yiming with slight dejection, shaking his head.

“Master Yiming, I’m sure this Devil is only a glutton for fame and glory,” interjected one of his elderly chaperones with contemptuous disdain, “We have not revealed ourselves to the world then, or else he would not have earned such a moniker. He’s not worth your coming all the way here.”

“Indeed,” Kong Yiming agreed, nodding, “The cat’s away and the mice will play. I’ve heard about how the Devil and the Sanctuary are close allies, and now, when doom is upon the Sanctuary, where is this Devil? I daresay he has fled.”

“Foolish git, as if the likes of you are qualified to criticize Chu Xun,” glowered Yan Wushuang, “If he were here, Chu Xun could have easily sent you flying with only one sneeze from his nose.”

Kong Yiming’s eyes turned dangerously dark as he regarded Yan Wushuang coldly, “If he is as good as you describe, then where is he now?”

“You’d better hope you won’t have the chance to see him, or I’m sure you’ll regret,” smirked Yan Wushuang.

“Insolence!” bellowed one of Kong Yiming’s elderly chaperons loudly, his hand raising as if to strike.

But their young liege stopped him. With a disdainful smirk, he said, “Fodders struggling in vain. They’re not worth us laying a hand on them.”

“Zombie, if I may call you friend, I have a request,” said Kong Yiming to the Zombie chieftain.

“Speak freely, Master Kong,” knowing how powerful the race of Peacocks was, the Zombie chieftain thought it prudent to be respectful.

“Can you give this woman to me?” he said, gesturing at Jing Hong.

As divine as a fairy yet as beautiful as a blossoming rose, Jing Hong’s charm meant nothing at all to the Zombies.

“What do you want with a human female?” said the Zombie Chieftain incredulously, “She is the woman of the Devil – that I am sure of.”

“Oh, really?” said Kong Yiming, even more intrigued. He was only enthralled by Jing Hong’s unworldly beauty at first, not knowing that she was Chu Xun’s woman. That suited him just well; he would rise in fame if the world found out that the Devil’s woman now belonged to him.

“I shall hope to expect a favorable reply, friends. You can see this as a favor for me,” said Kong Yiming, resolved to take Jing Hong for himself.

“So be it then. A fair trade to exchange for the goodwill of the Peacock race,” said the Zombie chieftain, pleased, “Very well then, Master Kong. The woman is yours.”

Kong Yiming’s countenance hardly shifted. He did not expect the Zombies to be so cunning and crafty. What initially intended to be a personal favor to him had now conveniently turned to “a favor for the Peacock race”. Yet despite the intrinsic difference, Kong Yiming readily conveyed his gratitude.

He beheld once more Jing Hong’s transcendental allurement and found himself lost in her charms. Finally, he said, “From this day onwards, you belong to me, Kong Yiming. Remember that.”

Jing Hong responded with only a cold and frosty glare that fully conveyed her reluctance and aversion to him.

“What is this? Disobedience?” said Kong Yiming, unsatisfied and unconvinced. He had only the greatest confidence in his own appearance, if not his position among the race of Peacocks. As far as he was concerned, he had just delivered Jing Hong from certain death in the hands of the Zombies and she should be thankful. Yet her reaction only seemed to suggest the contrary.

“Who do you think you are? The likes of you aren’t even fit to serve Chu Xun as slaves. And yet you dare besmirch his name by coveting his woman, the Fairy Jing Hong? You don’t know your own place, you worthless monster,” said Yan Wushuang derisively as he wiped the blood away from his lips.

“Are you seeking death?” hissed Kong Yiming with venom.

Unfazed, Yan Wushuang taunted, “I’ve never expected to live past this day. Go on then! Kill me!”

“Killing you will only stain my hands,” scoffed Kong Yiming, “I’d love to see you try to stop me. You’ll see how the Devil’s woman is now mine!”

Kong Yiming turned around, his eyes burning with a carnal hunger. “One last chance: agree to be my woman, or you’ll die here.”

Jing Hong did not even bat an eyelid at him. Her eyes stared blankly at him like a lake of ice, cold and aloof. But the tacit resistance she showed was just as hurtful as a slap to Kong Yiming’s face.

Kong Yiming’s eyes radiated malicious anger at being rebuffed. In fact, it was the first time he had suffered such humiliation. Angrily, he spat to his men, “Seize her!”

And his two elderly escorts step towards Jing Hong menacingly.