Chapter Fifty-One: The Deceived Corpse Handler

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In truth, when Fu Yang made the motion as if to spit, the corpse handler already sensed something was wrong.

He immediately commanded the corpses to set him down and formed a thick “wall of corpses” before himself!

A thunderbolt, as large as a water vat, roared forth, smashing into the mass of corpses and exploding with a deafening roar!

Zhao Shanshan and the others felt as if a true bolt of lightning had struck nearby, the thunder shaking their very bones, leaving them with a tingling numbness.

Many corpses were blasted apart, arms and legs flying everywhere, and others who remained intact were swept by the serpentine lightning and thunder, writhing and lashing through the ranks.

Once touched by the lightning, the corpses toppled to the ground, unmoving and no longer under the corpse handler’s control…

“How is this possible? How could this be? Such terrifying Daoist magic… Could it be the last disciple of some grandmaster from one of the great Daoist sects?” thought the corpse handler, seized by terror and on the verge of fleeing.

Yet, recalling the dreadful methods of his mysterious master behind the scenes—who would leave him neither alive nor dead, his very soul tortured and suppressed—he shuddered.

If he fled from the fight now, his fate would be far worse… The corpse handler could only grit his teeth and stand his ground, not daring to retreat.

At that moment, Ah Huang stood tall, emboldened. He pointed at the now frightened corpse handler. “You old chicken farmer, how about it? My brother just casually used a spell and could blow your balls to bits. If you’re scared, get lost!”

The corpse handler’s face darkened as he stared at Fu Yang, whose whole body emitted a black aura and whose eyes were ink black, caught between advancing and retreating.

Zhao Shanshan and the others had just breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they were finally saved, when they saw Ah Huang frantically gesturing behind his back—urging them to prepare to run!

“Why are we running?” Zhao Shanshan wondered, glancing instinctively at Fu Yang—and was immediately startled.

The black energy radiating from Fu Yang was rapidly dwindling, the tattoo-like markings on his right arm fading, and his pitch-black eyes slowly revealing whites, returning to normal…

This was undoubtedly a good sign, but it also meant the terrifying power Fu Yang had just displayed was about to vanish as well…

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“Damn it, Little Yang! You really put on a show and then collapse? If you’re going to act tough, why not see it through? Now I have to clean up the mess…” Ah Huang was sobbing inside, though he feigned fierce rebuke and provocation towards the corpse handler, his heart pounding with anxiety.

He didn’t know exactly what had happened to Fu Yang just now, but he knew that in the supernatural world, there were certain “forbidden arts” that could instantly unleash a person’s potential—at the cost of dire consequences.

What his brother had just displayed was very much like someone recklessly using a forbidden art, except the power increase was even more violent!

“If I’m not mistaken, Little Yang probably can’t fight anymore. I have to keep this damned corpse handler distracted a little longer and seize the chance to escape. This is such a mess!”

Zhao Shanshan and the other officers finally understood Ah Huang’s signals and the current situation.

Though Fu Yang had just unleashed his might and nearly wiped out a hundred rotting corpses, enough remained that they were still far from safe. Their only option was to run for their lives…

Zhao Shanshan gave Liu Zhan a look; he immediately caught on and nodded. The two turned, braced their hands on the ground, lifted their heels, muscles tensed—ready to sprint at their fastest speed.

“Hey you damned old chicken farmer! Are you so scared by my brother’s profound Daoist arts you can only kneel and beg? Shout ‘Grandfather’ a few times and tell us who your master really is, and maybe we’ll spare your life. What do you say?” Ah Huang continued his verbal assault.

You had to admit, this guy had none of a Daoist’s restraint, throwing out curses and insults with ease, making the corpse handler’s face alternate between green and white.

He stole a glance back and saw Fu Yang’s eyes had returned to normal—dazed and confused, as if just waking from a dream. His body was weak, so frail he could barely stand, swaying on the verge of collapse!

Not good!

Ah Huang immediately shouted in mock surprise, “Hey? Bro, didn’t I say if that idiot handler knelt and called you ‘Grandfather’ we’d spare him? Why are you about to cast an even greater spell than Maoshan’s Yin Thunder—why the Five Thunder Incantation?”

The Five Thunder Incantation?!

The corpse handler nearly fainted from fright.

Currently, the three great Daoist sects in the supernatural world were Maoshan, Dragon Tiger Mountain, and Laoshan—the most powerful forces.

With millennia of heritage, countless mystical arts, and outstanding talents, many of them held positions in state agencies…

Whether in the supernatural world or society at large, they were forces to be reckoned with.

In terms of spells, the Five Thunder Incantation of Maoshan, the Nine Heavens Dragon-Tiger of Dragon Tiger Mountain, and the Hundred Swords Demon-Slaughter of Laoshan—

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These three spells were known as the “Three Annihilations of the Daoist Sects,” the most powerful offensive arts known to the world!

Once cast, their power was limitless, able to obliterate all evil and sweep away any opposition.

Though the corpse handler found it hard to believe that someone so young could wield the Five Thunder Incantation, the Maoshan Yin Thunder just now had terrified him enough that he could not help but be wary.

“Corpses, shield me! Hurry, hurry!” he shouted, the frantic ringing of bells summoning the corpses into a thick wall before him—temporarily blocking his view as well…

Ah Huang spun around, his mouth silently forming the word “run.”

Zhao Shanshan and Liu Zhan sprang into action, dashing toward Fu Yang, who was collapsing to the ground, dazed and utterly confused.

Swift as leopards, they caught him before he fell.

With a hard push, Zhao Shanshan placed Fu Yang onto Liu Zhan’s back.

Fu Yang’s explosive attacks had already torn open several gaps in the once-impenetrable ring of corpses, leaving thinner areas to either side.

Ah Huang pointed to the right, where only six or seven corpses blocked the way—time for the group to make a desperate breakout!

They all rushed over, Liu Zhan and Shanshan shielding the now so weak he could barely speak, utterly unaware Fu Yang, while the others joined Ah Huang in clearing the path of corpses as fast as they could…

Only when the sound of fierce fighting broke out again did the corpse handler, hiding behind his wall of corpses in utmost tension, realize what had happened.

He leapt to his feet, only to see the group had already toppled several corpses and were breaking through on the right, dashing into a thicket of wild grass as tall as a person…

“Damn it!” the corpse handler finally realized he’d been tricked, so angry his lungs could burst. He couldn’t help but curse aloud.

“After them!”