Chapter Twenty-Four: While the Mantis Hunts the Cicada, I Become the Oriole in Wait

The cavern was naturally suited to sound-based techniques, and with the Blood Bat Fiend’s cultivation far surpassing that of Zhao Yi and his companion, the air quivered with shockwaves. Beads of blood began to seep from Zhao Yi’s skin. Kang Jie, being closest to the fiend, had already lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground. Endure—just a little longer! As the Blood Bat Fiend’s sound waves weakened, Zhao Yi realized that if he held out a bit more, he could exhaust the fiend to death.

But just as Zhao Yi fought with all his might against the fiend’s sonic assault, a dark shadow materialized nearby—a tall, black-clad figure with lifeless eyes. Zhao Yi’s heart lurched in alarm; he hastily summoned his spiritual weapon and unleashed it toward the intruder. His spiritual weapon was a top-grade flying sword—though only top-grade, its power rivaled many superior artifacts. Yet the newcomer completely ignored the flying sword. Iron claws, sharp as blades, sprouted from his fingers. With a casual swipe, he struck the incoming sword.

A resounding clang echoed. Zhao Yi felt as if his head had been struck by a sledgehammer; blood spurted uncontrollably from his mouth, and his connection to the sword was abruptly severed. After all, Zhao Yi was only a novice in the Qi Refining stage, relying solely on spiritual energy to control his weapon, unlike high-level cultivators who could forge a stable bond with their treasures.

However, though the stranger had batted away his sword, a segment of the iron claw had been severed, and the force sent the assailant flying. Not daring to retrieve his flying sword, Zhao Yi flipped his palm, producing a skull. This artifact, though not as powerful as his sword, was insidious in its own right. Upon its release, blue flames ignited in the skull’s hollow eye sockets. Its jaws gaped, spewing a plume of blue smoke toward the unsteady stranger.

A cold snort came from the newcomer, followed by a spectral figure splitting off from his body. It was Zhang Xiao. Originally, seeing Zhao Yi wounded by the fiend’s sonic waves, Zhang Xiao had believed his Ironclad Corpse would quickly dispatch the adversaries. He hadn’t anticipated that the opponent’s sword would be so formidable, nor that Zhao Yi wielded another superior artifact. Though the Ironclad Corpse could not be harmed, neither could it swiftly finish Zhao Yi. Once summoned, it precluded the use of other spells—unless elevated to the Flying Yaksha level, which Zhang Xiao had yet to achieve. He didn’t wish to linger here; if the blood bats returned, he’d be in trouble.

With this in mind, Zhang Xiao dissolved the Corpse Armor Technique, revealing his true form. “You’re from the Maoshan Sect!” Zhao Yi's eyes brightened, for only disciples of Maoshan could summon corpse soldiers and fuse with them through secret arts.

“Indeed,” Zhang Xiao replied, his brow furrowing. Though Maoshan and the Demonic Sect were adversaries, killing an inner-sect disciple outright might cause trouble.

"You’re finished!" Just as Zhang Xiao hesitated, Kang Jie, who had seemed unconscious, suddenly sprang up. Waving a small banner, he conjured a fire dragon of blue flames barreling forward like a runaway train.

“Courting death,” Zhang Xiao sneered, waving his hand. Countless shadows shot from his palm, sweeping aside the fire dragon and pouring directly into Kang Jie’s body.

“Devouring Heart Curse.” At Zhang Xiao’s mental command, the shadows exploded within Kang Jie, tearing him asunder with a deafening bang.

Zhao Yi’s face blanched at the sight. He was not the most powerful disciple of his sect, but he was the most knowledgeable—otherwise, he could not have recognized Zhang Xiao as a Maoshan disciple from the Corpse Armor Technique.

Yet for all his experience, Zhao Yi had never witnessed such a tyrannical spell. In truth, even Zhang Xiao was startled by the Devouring Heart Curse. It was one of the Seven Secrets of Maoshan—each unique, but all sharing one trait: invisible and intangible, impervious to ordinary artifacts, and only suppressible through raw cultivation. But compared to Zhang Xiao, Kang Jie’s cultivation was worlds apart—he stood no chance.

“Brother, though we walk different paths, this ambush hardly befits the righteous. Moreover, I am an inner disciple of the Ten Thousand Demons Sect. Killing me so wantonly—are you not afraid of sparking conflict between our sects? You won’t escape responsibility,” Zhao Yi pleaded.

Zhang Xiao merely smiled faintly, waved his hand, and unleashed another Devouring Heart Curse. With a thunderous explosion, a gaping hole was blasted in Zhao Yi’s chest. Though his cultivation surpassed Kang Jie’s, his death was less grisly, but his eyes remained wide with unwillingness. Zhang Xiao merely spat, “Fool.”

Having already slain one inner disciple, Zhang Xiao cared nothing for another. With both nuisances dispatched, he turned to see the once-ferocious Blood Bat Fiend now reduced to a vacant stupor. In its arms lay a piece of wood brimming with vitality. Zhang Xiao stretched out his hand, guiding the object over with a surge of spiritual energy—he had been observing in secret, and had caught every word of Zhao Yi’s. “To think a beast on the brink of the Nascent Soul stage could be so easily deceived,” he mused with a trace of pity.

But the Soul-Devouring Wood was a rare and precious material—he would not waste it. He stowed it, along with the Yang Essence Gem beneath the Blood Bat Fiend, into his bone ring. As for Zhao Yi, fortune did not favor him; upon his death, neither sword nor skull artifact remained—they vanished with him. Kang Jie was less fortunate: his banner and storage pouch both fell to the ground. Zhang Xiao picked up the flag—Iceflame Banner, top-grade artifact, requires Spirit Focusing stage to use. Excellent! He pocketed it, then reached for Kang Jie’s storage pouch.

Suddenly, the sound of beating wings echoed from the cave entrance. Not good—the blood bats! Hastily, Zhang Xiao grabbed the pouch, fused with his Ironclad Corpse through the Corpse Armor Technique, and dashed for the exit before the returning bats could fill the cavern. Thanks to the Ironclad Corpse’s lack of life aura, he made it out unscathed. Dawn was just breaking as waves of blood bats returned to their lair. By then, Zhang Xiao had already left the cave far behind, striding swiftly toward the G Prefecture branch. Reflecting on his bountiful haul and the way he had reaped the rewards while others contended, he could not help but feel delight.

Just as Zhang Xiao was savoring his success, he suddenly slapped his forehead and cursed under his breath, “Damn, I was so pleased I forgot the Azureflower! Without it as a catalyst, there’s no hope for my Rebirth Pill.” Annoyed as he was, he knew this was no time to return to the cave—not only had he slain two inner disciples of the Ten Thousand Demons Sect, but the returning blood bats alone were reason enough to stay away. Never mind, I’ll lie low at the G Prefecture branch for now.

Zhang Xiao activated the Divine Foot Technique, vanishing in a blink. Not long after he left Canglang Mountain, a group of people hurried toward the area. If Zhang Xiao had been there, he would have recognized the guide as none other than Zhao Yi. The party moved swiftly, plunging into the forest and heading straight for the bat cave.

Meanwhile, outside the G Prefecture branch, Zhang Hu and Tang Chuan had already received word and were waiting at the entrance with a crowd of outer disciples. Passersby, seeing the display, steered clear, wary of trouble. Though many in G Prefecture formed gangs like the Heavenly Dragon or Divine Might Societies, bullying the weak and running shady dealings, none dared claim power openly before the great sects. The righteous and demonic nine sects dominated the land; small fry could only stir up trouble in the shadows—any public display was suicide.

Thus, with Zhang Hu’s party blocking the entrance, the street was deserted. “What’s going on? Isn’t that the branch master of Maoshan? Why is he waiting outside—looks like he’s expecting someone,” a passerby wondered.

“Indeed, I wonder who commands such respect that the Maoshan branch master waits for them,” another chimed in. The murmurs were not loud, but Zhang Hu heard every word. Though he was displeased, he dared not cause trouble. He had already learned from Tang Chuan just how terrifying Zhang Xiao’s power was—dispatching level-40 monsters with a wave. At first, Zhang Hu had doubted it, but when Tang Chuan poured out a mountain of corpses from his storage pouch, he could not deny the truth.

Suddenly, before anyone noticed, a young man in Daoist robes appeared before Zhang Hu’s group. Zhang Hu started, but when he recognized Zhang Xiao, he hurried forward and saluted respectfully, “Welcome, Elder.”

“Welcome, Elder!” chorused the disciples behind him, dropping to their knees. As an outer disciple who had joined the inner sect, Zhang Hu was Zhang Xiao’s equal in rank and was not required to kneel, but the others, being of lower status, had no such privilege. It was sect custom, and none could break it.

“That’s enough, rise,” Zhang Xiao ordered, striding into the compound. Zhang Hu and Tang Chuan followed obediently. The commotion outside grew as people clamored to discover Zhang Xiao’s identity, but whatever the gossip, it was of no concern to him. After instructing Zhang Hu to prepare a secluded chamber, Zhang Xiao retreated for seclusion—not to cultivate, but to take stock of his spoils.

He withdrew the Blood Bat Fiend’s corpse from the bone ring, drew a long blade, and with a sweep, opened a gaping hole in the fiend’s chest. After rummaging inside for a while, he finally extracted a blood-red inner core.