Chapter 256 - 170: I Am a Sword Immortal! First Kill of a Qi Refiner

Chapter 256: Chapter 170: I Am a Sword Immortal! First Kill of a Qi Refiner

The forest was silent for a moment.

Then, a chilling voice echoed from all directions. "I’m still short two Blood Corpses. I’ll have to trouble you both to die for me."

The voice was unhurried, deceptively polite, yet utterly condescending.

Feng Jiuchen’s gaze turned icy in an instant. "To hell with you. I was trying to be polite, and you really think you’re some kind of god?"

The man didn’t get angry.

Or rather, for his kind, anger was too extravagant an emotion.

They were more accustomed to expressing themselves through action.

The forest floor trembled.

The dense trees ahead parted as if pushed by an invisible hand, toppling to either side and carving out a wide path.

Branches snapped and leaves scattered as the earth was churned up, revealing the black, rotting soil beneath.

Wan Ze’s pupils constricted.

At the end of the passage, a behemoth slowly approached.

It was a horrifyingly large Blood Corpse, at least three or four meters tall. Its body was as black as iron, with muscles gnarled like lumps of crude metal.

With every step, the ground trembled, its footprints sinking more than three inches into the earth.

And on its shoulder... stood a man in green robes.

The man appeared to be in his thirties. His face was gaunt and sinister, with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes, like a skeleton draped in skin. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood with unnatural stillness.

With every step the giant Blood Corpse took, willow trees as thick as buckets were instantly snapped underfoot.

A continuous CRUNCH of snapping wood filled the air. The trees were like brittle stalks of straw beneath the behemoth’s feet, shattering at the slightest touch.

The man in green robes stood on the Blood Corpse’s shoulder, gazing down at Feng Jiuchen and Wan Ze. There was no anger in his eyes, no killing intent—only a lofty indifference.

It was the dispassionate look one would give two ants.

’What an entrance...’

Wan Ze’s heart skipped a beat.

’So this is a Qi Refiner from Huangliang?’

The Female Sword Immortal he’d met before was an anomaly. Her very existence defied all logic.

And Feng Jiuchen was far too normal, acting and speaking just like any ordinary person.

But this man in green robes, appearing so suddenly, was the one who made him truly feel the weight behind the title "Qi Refiner."

’Chilling! Uncanny! Arrogant!’

’He has the haughtiness and wickedness of one long accustomed to power.’

Feng Jiuchen’s eye twitched. Taking a deep breath, he cupped his fist in his hand. "So, you are a fellow Daoist from the Puppet Yin Sect. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your sect’s Xu Quan on several occasions; we’re on friendly terms. Why don’t you ask Brother Xu about me? He’ll tell you I’m no one suspicious. This whole affair is just a misunderstanding. What say we each take a step back?"

He dropped Xu Quan’s name, but the man in green robes only smiled. The corners of his mouth curled up ever so slightly, a gesture that looked particularly unnerving on his gaunt face.

"Since you know who I am, you should also know how the Puppet Yin Sect operates."

The man’s voice was slow and measured, as if he were saying a final goodbye to a dead man. "It doesn’t matter if you know Brother Xu. Even if he were here today... and caught me in the middle of my work, I’d kill him all the same."

He spoke casually, but every word dripped with vicious intent.

It wasn’t a threat. He was merely stating a fact.

For him, killing a fellow sect member was never something to hesitate over.

Feng Jiuchen’s expression darkened completely, all traces of politeness gone from his voice. "So there’s no room for discussion?"

The man in green robes looked down at him, his tone scornful. "You think you’re worthy of negotiating with me? I established my domain here over three months ago. Everything within ten li is my territory. You two idiots barged in, and I’ve said nothing until now. Consider that me doing you a favor. Now, I’m allowing you to leave your lives behind. You should be honored."

He paused, his gaze shifting from Feng Jiuchen to Wan Ze. He looked him up and down and scoffed. "Built like an ox. He’ll make excellent material for a Blood Corpse."

Feng Jiuchen’s gaze turned utterly cold. "Your Sect Leader... I heard he suffered a Qi deviation last year trying to break through to the next Realm. Paralyzed now, isn’t he? And your Grand Elder and Second Elder are at each other’s throats for power, while half your disciples have fled. Can you even call the Puppet Yin Sect a Sect anymore? You should just rename it the Puppet Yin Nest."

The man in green robes’ face instantly turned ashen.

Feng Jiuchen had struck a nerve.

The Puppet Yin Sect had indeed suffered a major upheaval. The Sect Leader was bedridden and paralyzed from a Qi deviation. The Grand Elder and Second Elder were locked in a life-or-death struggle for control, and the Sect’s former glory was gone. Many disciples had either defected or been poached by other sects.

He was now hiding alone in these remote mountains, refining Blood Corpses. To put it nicely, he was "establishing a domain for his Cultivation." To put it bluntly, he had fallen so low that he had to rely on such despicable methods just to continue his Cultivation.

"You’re courting death!"

Humiliated, the man in green robes flew into a rage and flung his arm out.

BOOM!

As if given a command, the Blood Corpse on the path lunged forward, swiping with its massive hand.

Its outstretched palm was as black as iron, tipped with inch-long claws that glinted ominously under the Red Moon.

This was the Puppet Dao of the Puppet Yin Sect: refining living people into Puppets, using blood as a medium and Qi as threads to manipulate them in battle.

A skilled Cultivator from the Puppet Yin Sect could control several, or even dozens, of Puppets at once, forming them into great formations that were both offensively and defensively powerful.

The Puppets themselves felt no pain and never tired. As long as their manipulator’s Qi held out, the Puppets could fight indefinitely.

But the most terrifying aspect of a Puppet was that its strength depended on who it had been in life.

A Blood Corpse refined from a Martial Artist would retain some of its combat instincts from its former life.