The old manâs face twisted with rage at Han Wuâs impertinent reply. Known as the old ghost of black mountain and elder of the Profound Netherworld Cult, he was used to being feared.
He expected to encounter someone who didnât fear death on this day. That Han Wu dared to insult him was truly unbearable.
âYou brat, you seek death!â the old man growled, ordering the Shamblers to attack.
Han Wu did the same with his souls.
As they were the first two underlings he had obtained in this civilization, he had given them names. Zhang Mazi, the bandit leader, was called Ah Da, and the deputy was called Ah Er.
Ah Da swung his blade while Ah Er whirled his fan to cut down the Shamblers. Some of the Shamblers lost their arms, but they didnât care, attacking with gnashing teeth instead.
Biting wouldâve worked against a regular target, but Ah Da was a soul, so the Shamblers just fell flat on their faces. Still, there were more of them than Ah Da and Ah Er could handle on their own, so Han Wu flung the Explosive Locust Blade at the nearest Shambler. It exploded, blowing a number of them to pieces.
Realizing he couldnât control the exploded Shamblers, the old man turned serious. He had assumed that the Shamblers would be enough to deal with Han Wu. However, after seeing Han Wu unleash his explosive Divine Weapon, the old man decided to make use of his true power.
The old man took out one of his Divine Weapons, the Talisman Nail, and hurled it at Han Wu. The nail split into ten, blocking Han Wuâs paths of escape. If the nails struck someone, that person would fall under their control. The match would be over once they hit Han Wu.
Unfortunately for the old man, he had forgotten about Ah Er. Han Wu noticed the nails and ordered Ah Er to deflect them with his fan. The nails were either blown away or destroyed by the conjured wind. Han Wu then released his Small Locust Blade.
The blade silently shot out and stabbed into the chest of the old man. Strange, it didnât pierce through his flesh and became stuck in place instead.
âYou want to ambush me? Thatâs an amateur move.â The old man grabbed the small blade and squeezed.
The durability of the blade fell rapidly. Noticing this, Han Wu hastily used Blade Pressure to attack the old man and successfully retrieved his weapon before it shattered.
Blade Pressure also shredded the old manâs black robes to pieces, revealing a soft black under armour beneath. The armor exuded an eerie chill.
âDo you think Iâm called the old ghost of black mountain because I control those Shamblers?â The old man laughed mockingly. âI have that title because of this solid armor and my unbreakable Nether Ghost Hands. Since youâve seen my secrets, youâve all but guaranteed your fate. Donât think about leaving this place alive.â
With that, the old man leaped out of the coffin and charged at Han Wu.
The Small Locust Blade was close to being destroyed, so Han Wu instead called for Ah Da and Ah Er to defend him. Ah Da slashed the old man, but his armor was too tough, and Ah Daâs weapon itself almost flew away. Ah Erâs wind also did nothing besides lightly scratching the old manâs body.
âYou are out of moves, brat! Become my Shambler!â The old man cackled as he neared Han Wu.
Han Wu had no choice but to throw his Explosive Locust Blade at the old man. The old man didnât fear regular attacks, but explosions were a different story. Even if the armor protected him, it couldnât stop the impact from the explosion.
The old man was blown back, causing him to spit blood. Though outwardly unharmed, he had actually suffered internal damage.
âWhy do you still have it?â the old man questioned, voice raspy as he endured the pain.
The Explosive Locust Blade had already been used. A Divine Weapon that was destroyed needed time to reform. How had it reformed so fast?
Han Wu didnât answer and threw another.
The blade couldnât stab the old man, but the chain explosions wounded him greatly. He was soon kneeling as he begged for his life, âPlease, let me go. Iâm sorry for offending you. Please let me go for the sake of the Profound Netherworld Cult.â
The old manâs long life could largely be attributed to his adaptability. Since he had been defeated, he didnât hesitate to name-drop the Profound Netherworld Cult to intimidate Han Wu.
Something the old man hadnât factored in, however, was Han Wu being an outsider.
âThe Profound Netherworld Cult? Whatâs that? Never heard of it.â Han Wu tossed another Explosive Locust Blade.
The old man died in the explosion.
The Shamblers crumpled to the ground, becoming actual inanimate corpses once more. Having nearly been tricked once before, Han Wu carefully used his near-broken Small Locust Blade to cut off the head of the old man from afar before finally approaching.
The old manâs Divine Weapons were still there. The armor, the Nether Ghost Hands, and the Talisman Nail were on the ground. Although high-grade, Han Wu couldnât use them. The Locust Soul Orb was also at max capacity, meaning he couldnât summon the soul of the old man.
In the end, Han Wu decided to absorb them. The Small Locust Blade absorbed the armor. The massive gap in their ranks allowed the blade to shoot up from rank 35 to rank 77 in an instant, becoming harder and more durable.
The Explosive Locust Blade was compatible with the Talisman Nail. After absorbing it, it gained a new skill called Tenfold, which allowed the Explosive Locust Blade to turn into ten blades, each with 70% of its original power. Though its explosive strength went down, its overall damage went up. It was a big improvement.
As for the Locust Soul Orb, it absorbed the Nether Ghost Hands and obtained a new skill called Ghostfire. This allowed Han Wu to use the power of souls within the orb to launch ghostly fireballs. The damage was average, but it did have a multiplying strength against ghosts, spirits, souls, demons, monsters, and the like.
Han Wu had killed the old man and upgraded his three Divine Weapons. The encounter had been worth it. With that done, he checked the black coffin, absentmindedly wondering if it technically counted as the old manâs bed.
Peeking in to check for anything precious, he was irritated to find nothing. As he was about to smash it to pieces, he noticed something scrawled on the coffinâs interior.
He picked up a lantern and shone it in. The inner walls of the coffin were filled with words. It was a cultivation manual called the Black Mountain Scripture!