Chapter Sixty-Two: The Sinister Bloodwater

Daoist Hou, having escaped the range of the demonic music and regained his senses, couldn’t help but curse aloud—until Yu Jun shot him a glare that instantly silenced him.

At the very front, Zhou Bai, after adjusting somewhat, stepped forward again.

The sound of the heartbeat grew louder and heavier. Fortunately, at that moment, the ghostly tree within his dantian stirred; countless roots extended along his meridians, piercing into his apertures throughout his body, barely holding back the sensation of his body spiraling out of control.

“How can this be…”

Yu Jun’s expression was a mix of shock and suspicion. With her cultivation at the true form level, she and Zhou Bai had stepped forward together, both affected by the music—yet Zhou Bai was the first to regain his composure. Clearly, Zhou Bai’s strength was far from as simple as it appeared on the surface.

Now was not the time to dwell on it. Wang Sheng had already reached the center of the room, stretching his hands toward the ever-throbbing heart.

Both Zhou Bai and Yu Jun grew anxious. Wang Sheng’s life was only part of the concern; more pressing was that this house, saturated with flesh and blood, was still undergoing its monstrous transformation—they had to resolve this swiftly.

“It’s no use trying to adapt to this demonic music bit by bit—we’re out of time. Damn it.” Yu Jun cursed, taking the initiative. She withdrew from her true form, then forcefully slapped her palms against her ears, shattering her own eardrums.

“Ruthless,” Zhou Bai thought, immediately imitating her. He drove his palms into his ears, instantly rupturing the drums. The mind-numbing music was now mostly muted. Glancing at Yu Jun, he saw she had already transformed into a half-human, half-demon form.

Thick fur sprouted from her skin, patterns like flames coursed over her body. Though she retained her human shape, her head and limbs had shifted into those of a leopard, a tail extending from the base of her spine.

Such mastery over one’s true form required extremely precise control of demon power, something only those who had cultivated it to perfection could achieve.

In the blink of an eye, Yu Jun became a blur and dashed inside.

Flesh rushed toward her; she immediately countered, her claws rending the walls and tearing open gaping wounds that rained blood like a downpour.

Zhou Bai was right behind, relying on his deadly curse as a trump card, unconcerned with his own safety.

The executioner’s saber in his hand let out a shrill, eager cry; forged in a hundred bloody battles, its thirst for carnage far surpassed that of any mundane blade.

The killing aura on the Tang saber at his waist had been completely ground away by his sword intent. Each blade now walked a different path—one shattering all with brute strength, the other a torrent of murderous fire.

Although Yu Jun was incredibly fast, she was still a half-step too slow. Wang Sheng’s palms had already touched the surface of the heart.

Instantly, the heartbeat thundered faster, and from his hand, purple lines began to creep up his arm—signs of corpse transformation. It wouldn’t be long before Wang Sheng became a purple zombie.

It seemed the heart had been silently luring victims, transforming them into the undead with its power. But the initial outbreak of zombies across the city had been different; they didn’t appear to be the result of the heart’s direct influence.

Seeing Wang Sheng in mortal peril, Yu Jun appeared behind him in a flash. She seized his body, trying to wrench him free from the heart’s grasp.

No matter how she pulled, his hands seemed fused to the heart, the marks of corpse transformation deepening by the moment.

Wang Sheng, even in his dazed, clouded state, moaned in agony.

Zhou Bai charged forward, switching to a two-handed grip on his saber. The moment he raised it, it was already fully charged.

A dazzling blade light flashed as a deep gash several feet long appeared on the heart, blood gushing out in torrents.

But the wound healed at a shocking speed—in just a few breaths, most of the damage had vanished.

Yet Zhou Bai’s attack had clearly threatened the heart. With a loud bang, the door behind them slammed shut.

Flesh on the walls surged over the door, quickly sealing it as one. Now they were completely trapped in this world of blood and flesh, as if swallowed into the belly of a beast.

Zhou Bai lashed out again and again, leaving the surface of the heart in tatters, blood pouring out in sheets. The rain of blood in the room became a deluge, pooling rapidly around their feet.

The heart recovered rapidly; Zhou Bai’s attacks couldn’t inflict any fundamental damage.

Seeing corpse transformation about to swallow Wang Sheng’s arm, Yu Jun gritted her teeth and shouted, “Sever it!”

Zhou Bai saw the shape of her lips, hesitated only briefly, then brought his blade down on Wang Sheng’s arms. The blade sliced through with almost no resistance.

Wang Sheng’s arms were severed at the joints, and his body was temporarily freed from danger, though his mind remained clouded and confused.

Yu Jun was not about to give up on him. She tore open her sleeve, bound him to her back, and readied herself for battle.

Side by side, she and Zhou Bai launched a relentless assault on the heart, shattering it again and again. Yet the more grievous the wounds, the faster it regenerated.

What Zhou Bai failed to notice was that with every swing, his executioner’s saber absorbed a wisp of blood essence from the heart. Each time it was only a trace, but quantity became quality; the blade itself was subtly changing.

Blood quickly pooled higher—first at their feet, then to their knees.

After another bout of attacks, the blood rose to their waists, yet the heart remained undamaged, and, having lost so much blood, its recovery grew even swifter.

Yu Jun and Zhou Bai exchanged glances and stopped. Continuing this way was futile—doubt crept into their hearts, and the urge to retreat grew.

Zhou Bai looked at the wall of flesh. If he could break it, they might escape this twisted place, at least for now.

Just as he readied a blow against the wall, the heart in the room’s center suddenly throbbed violently several times.

Then, with a startling bang, it burst apart into a mass of meat pulp.

A flood of blood surged forth, filling the space in mere seconds. Every corner was submerged.

Within the blood lurked a chill of yin energy, as fine as needles, boring relentlessly from the skin into the flesh and bone.

The meat pulp dissolved into the blood, giving rise to countless monstrous fish that darted ceaselessly through the crimson tide.

These strange fish resembled bony carcasses, with only shreds of rotten flesh clinging to their frames. Their eyes were lifeless, yet glowed with a ravenous hunger to rend their prey.

The swarm surged toward them, so dense it made one’s scalp crawl.

Yu Jun unleashed all her power, transforming entirely into her true form. She let out a mighty roar underwater, creating a momentary vacuum within the house.

Dozens of monstrous fish were instantly slain, their bodies reverting to meat pulp and merging back into the blood, only to be reborn moments later—the cycle repeating endlessly.