Chapter 186: Spiritual Tribe Legends (Part 1)

"Master!"

The young novice monk, who was chatting with Yu Shijiu, saw Master Jingkong get injured and immediately grew anxious, grabbing a broom and preparing to rush over.

Yu Shijiu quickly reached out, grabbed the novice monk, and with a forceful throw, sent him into a corner. He then swiftly pulled the iron sword from his back and charged forward.

He had been neighbors with Master Jingkong since he was nine years old, a full five years now, and he knew how profound Master Jingkong’s cultivation was. Yet, at this moment, Master Jingkong was so badly battered. Regardless of whether the opponent had launched a sneak attack, they were undoubtedly a master, not someone the novice monk could get involved with.

In that instant, Yu Shijiu rapidly darted forward, like a swallow skimming over water, reaching his target in a flash. He picked up Master Jingkong and was about to retreat.

Just then, an elderly man with grizzled temples suddenly emerged from the meditation room. His gaze was like lightning, and with a flick of his wide sleeve, his left palm swept forward with a whooshing gale, striking directly at Yu Shijiu’s chest.

Yu Shijiu’s eyes narrowed. Without thinking, he flicked his wrist. The sword moved with ethereal grace, a cold gleam shooting out like a streaking meteor, aiming for the old man’s palm.

In a flash, a resounding "clang" echoed, like the peal of a great bell. Yu Shijiu felt a colossal, mountain-toppling force surge towards him. The long sword in his hand shattered inch by inch, like rotten wood.

The powerful momentum, undiminished, sent him flying backward like a kite with a broken string. He tumbled back a full three zhang (about 10 meters) before finally landing.

Yu Shijiu helped Master Jingkong to his feet, then looked up. He saw a peculiar bronze luster emanating from the old man’s palm, while wisps of cold air rose from the half-broken sword remaining in his hand. His pupils slightly constricted as he said, "Zombie Art... so you've come for revenge!"

Master Jingkong spat out a mouthful of blood, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Donor Yu, you know... Never mind, no time to explain, hurry and leave!"

"Master Jingkong, you're not leaving today."

The old man from the meditation room stepped out from the dust.

Yu Shijiu’s pupils contracted slightly. Only then did he recognize the man as Xie Huaizhou, a renowned martial arts veteran with considerable prestige in the northern desert martial arts world.

At the same time, two figures appeared simultaneously from the meditation rooms on either side.

Seeing the two men, a trace of resignation flickered in Master Jingkong’s eyes. He said, "Donors Sha Hui and Shi Tao, have you two also cultivated the Zombie Art?"

Yu Shijiu’s expression darkened. Though he didn’t know these two personally, he had heard their names. Like Xie Huaizhou, they were both prominent masters in the northern desert martial arts world.

"Attack!"

Sha Hui and Shi Tao had no intention of exchanging further words with Master Jingkong. They directly launched their assault. Without concealment, they unleashed the Zombie Art. Their bodies emanated a bronze glow, and sharp, hard nails grew from their fingertips as they lunged forward to kill.

"Donor Yu, hurry and leave. I will hold them off."

Master Jingkong didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his face flushed, clearly forcing his internal energy to make a desperate stand and buy Yu Shijiu time to escape.

Just as Yu Shijiu knew Master Jingkong’s martial arts level, Master Jingkong also understood Yu Shijiu's strength. He believed that in a one-on-one fight, Yu Shijiu could take on any of the three, even with their Zombie Art. However, with three of them working together and Master Jingkong severely injured, Yu Shijiu had no chance of victory.

Therefore, the moment Sha Hui and Shi Tao appeared, Master Jingkong had already made his decision: he would fight to the death to create an opportunity for Yu Shijiu to escape.

However, at that moment, Yu Shijiu didn’t run. Instead, he said, "No need to run." Immediately, he swung his hand back, and with a "clang," drew the long sword from his back.

In an instant, the yellow sand shattered as an incomparably sharp sword intent erupted with a hum, like a dormant beast suddenly opening its eyes.

At this moment, Yu Shijiu seemed reborn. His entire being merged with the sword, exuding a chilling, murderous aura. The long sword in his hand seemed to have transcended the quality of mere mortal iron. Wisps of sword qi encircled the blade, like materialized sharp edges, arbitrarily cutting through the surrounding air with hissing sounds.

Shi Tao, Xie Huaizhou, and Sha Hui all felt an inexplicable palpitation in their hearts at that moment. However, they were confident in their invulnerable bodies. Although they felt a slight pressure, they weren’t overly alarmed and didn’t halt their attack.

The moment Yu Shijiu drew his sword, he closed his eyes.

In that instant, his figure weaved through the air. Within the monastery, only a scattering of cold stars and flickering sword shadows could be seen, like sharp chisels, carving shocking wounds into the trio's bronze skin and iron bones.

In the blink of an eye, a cold flash appeared, and a bottomless sword hole appeared on each of their foreheads. Their eyes were filled with disbelief as their bodies slowly collapsed, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Yu Shijiu gripped his long sword, his arm trembling. The sword continued to hum. He clutched it tightly, his eyes still closed. After a long while, the sword's hum by his ear faded, and the flickering sword shadows in his mind disappeared.

"This is not your sword."

Master Jingkong, seeing Yu Shijiu awaken from his special state, slowly walked over despite his injured body.

Yu Shijiu returned the sword to its sheath, turned around, and helped Master Jingkong. He said, "Indeed, this is not my sword. It belongs to a very, very, very powerful master."

Master Jingkong slumped to the ground, blood seeping from his mouth again. He gently wiped it away and said, "It seems that master greatly appreciates you. The sword intent he concealed in this sword has similarities with your sword dao, but his sword is more decisive. It's a pity you cannot be as fearless as him. If you could let go of your inner obsessions and truly grasp his sword intent, your cultivation would advance by leaps and bounds."

Yu Shijiu shook his head slightly. "You know I can’t do that."

Master Jingkong sighed. "What a pity. You were destined for a much broader path."

"Alright, let me treat your injuries first."

With that, Yu Shijiu led Master Jingkong into a meditation room. As he reached the door, he turned back to the few novice monks in the courtyard and said, "Stay outside and do not enter without my permission."

Then, Yu Shijiu entered the room, closed the door, and helped Master Jingkong sit on a stool. He himself bent down, drew a dagger from his boot, and lightly cut a wound in his palm.

The flesh instantly peeled back, a ghastly sight. Yet, strangely, no fresh blood immediately gushed forth. Within the palm, faint crimson blood could be seen flowing, yet it seemed entirely unrelated to the rolled-back flesh. The blood circulated on its own path, the flesh was its own body. Though the wound was stark, the blood, as if drawn by some mysterious force, continued its normal circulation, not a single drop flowing out.

Yu Shijiu’s expression was solemn. His left hand quickly formed a peculiar incantation gesture, and he began to chant in a low, mysterious voice, seemingly communicating with the arcane forces of heaven and earth.

As he chanted, a faint glow gradually appeared at the wound, like shimmering starlight in the night sky. Before long, a single drop of fresh blood slowly solidified, resembling a perfectly round, crimson pearl, hovering gently above Yu Shijiu’s palm, radiating an eerie aura.

Following this, what was even more bizarre was that in a flash, the horrifying wound on Yu Shijiu’s palm healed at a visible rate. In the blink of an eye, it returned to its original state, smooth and unblemished, without a trace of a scar.

Then, Yu Shijiu offered the blood bead to Master Jingkong and said, "Swallow it quickly; it will lose its effect if you delay. Once your injuries are healed, flee immediately. We can't be sure they don't have further plans."

Master Jingkong clearly already knew about Yu Shijiu’s peculiar abilities, as he showed no surprise. He took the blood bead and swallowed it directly, then immediately began to circulate his energy to heal.

In an instant, Master Jingkong’s pale face became flushed, and then increasingly red, as if his body were being roasted. Within his skin, flames seemed to subtly course, and waves of heat began to emanate from his body.

After a short while, Master Jingkong gradually calmed down. His injuries had miraculously recovered by about seventy to eighty percent.

He looked up at Yu Shijiu and sighed with emotion, "Donor Yu, your Spirit Tribe… is truly unique. That there would be such a peculiar race as yours in this world, possessing such unparalleled natural gifts. Even after knowing for many years, this humble monk still finds it incredibly unfathomable."

Yu Shijiu said in a deep voice, "But this is not a good thing. It is this unique talent that has caused our tribe to suffer so much throughout history. We've faced the brink of extinction countless times. If word gets out, our tribe will surely be hunted and captured by the entire world. This is not a blessing from heaven, but a curse!

If the outside world knew there was a race whose blood could cure all ailments and revive the dead, then from that moment on, in the eyes of the world, our people would no longer be seen as humans, but as renewable rare treasures. Whether commoners, royalty, or martial arts heroes, they would only treat us as blood banks."

Master Jingkong sighed softly. "I cannot imagine the crisis your tribe would face if this were to be known."

Yu Shijiu said, "It has happened before, we were widely captured and almost wiped out, several times over. If not for that, why would our tribe have developed such an evil art as the Zombie Art, which harms the natural order? It caused so many to die."

Master Jingkong shook his head. "This is not your tribe's fault. The Zombie Art was originally a divine art created specifically for your tribe's unique characteristics. It was not originally intended for killing, but was altered by others to become the Zombie Art. However, Donor Yu, I have always been somewhat puzzled. The Zombie Art is so powerful, a divine art created based on your tribe's spiritual blood, so why do you not cultivate it? With the properties of your tribe's spiritual blood, you wouldn't need to worry about cold poison or resort to blood-sucking and killing."

Yu Shijiu shook his head slightly. "It's not as simple as you think. Although the Zombie Art was created based on our tribe's spiritual blood, it doesn’t mean we can cultivate it casually.

The version of the Zombie Art circulating now has been modified to absorb the impurities and yin cold energy of the world. But our tribe’s original Zombie Art absorbed the spiritual energy emitted by our tribe's most treasured artifact.

However, three hundred years ago, a traitor appeared in our tribe. He was the most talented person in our tribe in a thousand years, and like me, he was chosen as a Guardian of the Dao. But after seeing the outside world, he became unwilling to remain hidden and live a secluded life. Ultimately, he stole our tribe's most treasured artifact. Three hundred years have passed, and there has been no news of his whereabouts."

"Three hundred years? Could he still be alive?"