Facing a corpse ghoul notorious for slaughtering Foundation Establishment cultivators—with a recorded 90% win rate—Wang Yu knew he had to assess its true combat strength carefully.
Of course, if he could kill it outright, that would be ideal.
It would mean that, aside from the Six-Eyed Corpse Infant, he could guarantee his safety in this underground ruin. The known traps and formations had already been mapped and posed no threat.
Intelligence Mode: Wang Yu activated.
"Grrr…"
Corpse ghouls were cunning and cruel by nature. They killed any living creature they encountered—pure demonic instinct.
Toying with a skull was a habit developed over time, a meaningless pastime.
It spun the skull endlessly between its fingers, muttering unintelligible sounds, lost in its own world.
Then, at the moment the skull stopped spinning—
Its yellow vertical pupils snapped toward a direction. With a casual squeeze, the polished skull shattered into fragments.
It had smelled flesh.
The black-furred, ape-like figure vanished instantly. No sound. Not even the wind stirred.
It had spotted him.
A black-robed man leaned against a broken wall. The scent came from him.
The ghoul retreated into darkness, circled silently, and crept behind the wall. Its claws pierced the stone—expecting warm flesh, but grasping only air.
It froze.
Suddenly—
Cold and searing flames erupted. Under the mysteries of [Flame Shaping Technique], two icy serpents formed from frostfire coiled upward, binding the ghoul tightly.
Cold and heat surged simultaneously—burning and freezing it at once.
The man leaning against the wall faded away.
[Phantom Step: True Illusion].
A tier-one high-grade movement technique, originally meant for Qi Refining. But Wang Yu had perfected it—merging ten illusions into one.
Combined with his custom scent powder, it perfectly deceived the ghoul's senses.
As the ghoul struggled violently—
A flute melody drifted through the air, soothing and gentle. The pain from the frostfire was ignored.
[Heart-Demon Melody: Sublime Realm].
The control lasted until its body turned charred black, its fur burned away, and its flesh began to smell roasted. Only then did it snap back to awareness.
"ROAR—!"
Its demonic nature erupted. Its body swelled to five meters, like a berserk gorilla. It tore the icy serpents apart in fury.
Each stomp left craters in the ground—but it still couldn't find its attacker.
In helpless rage—
"Caw, caw, caw—"
Ominous caws echoed. Red-eyed soul-devouring crows, each three feet long, swarmed in. They passed through its body, stealing strands of soul.
The pain was excruciating—like torture.
The ghoul collapsed to its knees. Its control over its body plummeted. Limbs weakened. It couldn't lift its head.
Finally, footsteps echoed in the dark.
Wang Yu twirled his obsidian flute, studying the creature.
"Mental resistance is low against soul-path and illusion techniques. But once its demonic nature awakens, it becomes nearly immune. Combined with its undead body… what a terrifying monster."
Its immortality wasn't regeneration—it was that injuries didn't affect its combat ability. No conventional fatal points. Like a corpse already dead.
Even severed limbs retained attack instinct and full power. Wang Yu suspected lingering demonic soul fragments were responsible.
That's why all his probing attacks targeted its soul.
When they were just a step apart, the ghoul's drooping head suddenly gleamed with cunning. Its wedge-like claws lunged at Wang Yu's chest.
Instantly—
Wang Yu's eyes lit up with crescent moon patterns.
[Moon Mirage Realm].
The ghoul's soul immunity wasn't absolute. After the soul-devouring crow assault, its soul was severely damaged—its resistance dropped sharply.
The soul governs the body. A weakened soul can't control a powerful frame. That's why it felt weak—not from fatigue, but from spiritual collapse.
As the ghoul froze before him, Wang Yu's eyes gleamed.
He pointed.
[Soul-Shattering Finger].
Like the final straw, the ghoul's soul shattered. Black smoke rose from its head. It fell silent.
Just like the Moonfiend corpse—this was premium material.
Due to its immortal demonic nature, the corpse ghoul could be refined into a rare demonic corpse.
A unique zombie—not part of the orthodox Moonfiend or Gold-Armored systems. Even among variants, it was exceptional. Properly cultivated, it would become Wang Yu's second trump card corpse.
Demonic corpses were powerful—but risky.
They could spawn new souls and develop autonomy. The risk of backlash was high. Wang Yu sealed it in the Moonfiend Coffin and pondered.
"During the last exploration wave, Underworld Mountain Sect's enforcers may have come for this ghoul. Few knew it existed before the intel was released."
Corpse-path inheritance was a major branch in Crimson Kite Territory. Nearly every sect had its own version—even the Pleasure Sect had the [Yin-Yang Demonic Corpse] lineage.
That was an advanced form of demonic corpse—peak-tier in this world.
Unknowingly—
Wang Yu's corpse-path foundation now rivaled dedicated cultivators of the same realm.
Returning to the ghoul's lair, he carefully retrieved the bloodstained shackles, sealed them in ice, and stored them.
He planned to catch a corpse demon next. Rare outside—usually found in tombs, burial zones, ruins. Dead bodies gaining spirit and becoming monsters.
They could be refined into several special variants. Even if he didn't use them, selling would fetch a fortune. He wasn't about to miss the chance.
"Hm?"
Just as he prepared to search using [Mountain Search Demon Probe], the storage pouch holding the shackles glowed red.
That pouch was reserved for "dirty" items.
He considered tossing it.
But it split open. The shackles and manacles floated out, merging automatically. Their spatial power reactivated.
A barrier enveloped him. Wang Yu suddenly understood how Ding Ming had entered the inheritance light pillar.
It was a ticket.
No time to complain. He instinctively raised his true essence shield—and vanished from the ruins' outskirts.
—
Capital Suppression Prison.
Even on his first visit, Wang Yu instantly recognized it.
Broken walls. Scattered bricks. Decayed restraints littered the ground.
The variety and bizarre designs made him marvel.
The air reeked of rot and blood.
There was also the stale scent of time—like an old man nearing death. Not unbearable, but deeply unpleasant.
Instinctively repulsive.
But what truly made his scalp tingle—
Somehow, a collar had locked around his neck. His limbs and throat were bound by the Guan Clan's elite manacles.
His true essence was dormant. His spiritual sense was sealed behind a barrier of killing intent. Touching it revealed visions of mountains of corpses—all of them his own.
"But—"
He wasn't confused. Instead, with other powers suppressed, his physical strength surged.
If he wished—
One arm could unleash a million-jin force and shatter the restraints.
Wang Yu exhaled quietly.
"My guess was right. This is the prison's entry ticket. Only direct contact triggers the curse."
A prison built in the imperial capital couldn't be this small. He was likely in the entry hall.
The real prison lay deeper.
After surveying the area, Wang Yu headed toward a collapsed zone. Underground cavities often caused terrain depressions.
Easy to spot. And Wang Yu had always been a bold explorer. His curiosity about the ancient immortal dynasty burned bright.
He kicked aside boulders. If too large, he shattered them. The noise was loud—but this zone seemed like a safe area.
No monsters. No corpses. Just stone and dust.
After half a day of clearing, he finally descended into the prison's deeper layer.
Cold flames formed icy serpents.
Their glow lit the space. [Lunar Nether Eye] helped in darkness—but its range was limited. It was just a side effect.
To see like daylight in darkness—he'd need more training.
He found himself on a circular platform with three steps, each only a foot high.
Four pitch-black tunnels surrounded him. Each stone bore formation patterns—but they were dim, some key nodes erased.
"Was this done by Jin Miaoshan and Ding Ming?"
"Most likely."
He answered himself. Following their traces would be safer—and might yield leftovers.
He chose the eastern tunnel. After a few dozen steps, cells lined both sides. Inside were humanoid stains—likely corpses that had fused with the ground over time.
Eventually, Wang Yu reached a spacious hall.
At its center stood a 21-meter-tall faceless sword-bearing statue. No need to guess its identity.
"The immortal dynasty's sword cultivator—the founder of Capital Suppression Prison."
(End of Chapter)
—