Chapter 136: Using the Corpse King as a Venting Outlet

"Young Master, I'm out of options. Why don't you give it a try?"

The Ice-Crystal White Tiger shifted its gaze directly to Xiao Yang, grinning. This made Xiao Yang so angry he couldn't help but laugh.

"You idiot!"

After all that fierce, tiger-like posturing, it had managed to turn itself into nothing more than a house cat. Just as he was about to scold the dim-witted tiger, the Holy White Tiger Sword in his hand suddenly trembled. Xiao Yang glanced at it in confusion, but since the sword returned to normal immediately, he didn't give it another thought.

"Move aside. I’ll handle this Corpse King."

With a thought, he stowed away the Qilin Seal and produced a pitch-black object in his hand. The Corpse King paused in surprise. He could sense the terrifying energy contained within the Qilin Seal, yet here was this boy, ignoring such a formidable treasure to pull out some nondescript black trinket instead. Furthermore, he sensed absolutely no aura coming from it; it felt like nothing more than a common, unremarkable object.

"Little thing, what is that you're holding?" the Corpse King asked in a raspy voice, his face showing a trace of bewilderment.

Xiao Yang’s lips curled into a smirk as he replied, "Something good!"

Before the words had even faded, he was already flapping his Vermillion Bird wings, soaring into the air and charging straight at the Corpse King. The Ice-Crystal White Tiger hesitated. Logically speaking, Xiao Yang stood no chance, but the young man never acted according to logic. He was only a Great Martial Master, yet he had somehow managed to trap the tiger with a low-grade beast-taming ring. Such things defied all reason. After a moment of hesitation, the tiger decided not to call out. It would observe the situation first; if things truly went south, it wouldn't be too late to jump in.

"Little brat, if my senses aren't failing me, you aren't even a Martial Marquis. What do you have to fight me with?" The Corpse King glanced at Xiao Yang, his eyes filled with obvious disdain. The only thing about Xiao Yang that caught his interest was that treasure of his. Even in the hands of such a pathetic weakling, it had displayed remarkable power—clearly a precious artifact. A thought of seizing it for himself instantly bloomed in his mind.

"With what? With this!"

Xiao Yang shouted, charging forward with the Holy White Tiger Sword. The Corpse King sneered and lashed out with a palm strike. Xiao Yang was sent flying, his body slamming directly into the stone wall.

"Damn it! So fast."

He realized one thing: his speed was completely outmatched. After all, the opponent was a powerhouse at the Corpse King realm; if he could be defeated so easily, he wouldn't be a Corpse King.

"How pitiful."

A voice suddenly rang out. Xiao Yang felt a chill run down his spine.

"Who's there?" He scanned his surroundings, but finding nothing unusual, he assumed he was hallucinating. As he pulled himself from the stone wall, the voice spoke again in his ear: *Dodge right!*

Xiao Yang had no time to think, but his intuition told him to trust that voice. He dove to the right. Almost at the exact same moment, an attack struck the spot where he had been, causing the entire stone wall to shudder violently.

"A Great Martial Master, not practicing properly, only coming here to die," the Corpse King remarked with contempt, clearly convinced that Xiao Yang was done for. He turned his gaze toward the Ice-Crystal White Tiger. "Little kitty, you're next."

"Young Master!!!" The Ice-Crystal White Tiger was shocked. It had assumed that with such excellent equipment, Xiao Yang could hold his own for at least a few rounds. It never expected him to be finished in a single exchange. It hadn't even had time to intervene.

"Stop wailing, little kitty. That brat is already dead," the Corpse King said coldly. He hadn't thrown that palm strike lightly; it was saturated with dense corpse energy. A living person hit by it would either die instantly or, worse, be transformed into a zombie. Given Xiao Yang’s level as a Great Martial Master, he shouldn't have even had time to react before being killed.

"Who said I was dead?"

A voice interrupted. From the swirling dust, a figure slowly emerged. It was Xiao Yang. He was currently feeling fortunate that he had listened to that voice; if he had dodged even a fraction of a second slower, he would have suffered greatly, if not lost his life.

"You aren't dead?" The Corpse King was clearly stunned, but he quickly dismissed it. Even if he hadn't died, he could crush a dozen like Xiao Yang with a single palm. He raised his hand again to strike.

"Heh, going for round two?" Xiao Yang wore a look of disdain as he raised the Holy White Tiger Sword and slashed down. The blade energy was the same as before—if not even smaller.

"You never learn!" The Corpse King glanced at it and lost interest. The same move, repeated again, would not change the outcome.

*Pfft!*

However, the moment the sword energy touched the blood-stained hand, it detonated. The shockwave of the sword energy surged straight toward the Corpse King. The arrogant Corpse King was caught off guard by this twist, and his attempt to dodge was a heartbeat too slow.

*Pfft!*

A foul, fishy stench filled the air. A hole had appeared in the Corpse King's shoulder.

"Ah!" He hadn't expected that tiny bit of sword energy to be capable of wounding him. *How is this possible...*

But the Corpse King had no time to ponder; several more sword strikes were already raining down. This time, he didn't dare to take them head-on and scrambled to dodge, fearing the impact. He was filled with confusion. The sword energy from just a moment ago was clearly amateurish, but now it was condensed to the point of being physical. If he hadn't been certain that Xiao Yang was only one person, the Corpse King would have suspected someone else had taken his place.

"Little brat, your talent is actually quite impressive."

"You're too kind," Xiao Yang replied coolly, slashing out another wave of sword energy.

The truth was, the Ice-Crystal White Tiger hadn't failed earlier; it had successfully summoned a powerhouse of the White Tiger clan. That powerhouse was none other than the sword spirit dwelling within the Holy White Tiger Sword. Through some maneuvering, the tiger had awakened it. The warning to dodge earlier had come from the sword spirit.

"Heh! But you are still far from enough," the sword spirit said indifferently.

Xiao Yang wasn't offended. He had heard of the spirit's standards before: to enter the Dao through the sword, become a king by age ten, and be invincible by age thirty. Xiao Yang doubted anyone could actually meet such criteria. The first part was simple enough; most swordsmen could achieve that. But the second part—becoming a king at ten—was absurd. He thought back to what level he was at age ten. *Uh, first-level Martial Artist.*

*Forget it, don't think about it!* It would only be embarrassing. Xiao Yang cut his train of thought short, a flash of annoyance in his eyes.

"Damn it, this is so frustrating. I need to vent." He wanted to use the Corpse King as a punching bag.

Almost immediately, a voice filled with dissatisfaction sounded in his mind. "Against an ant like this, a single strike could wipe out millions."

Xiao Yang rolled his eyes. "Enough, stop bragging. Let's talk business." He believed the spirit might be telling the truth, but with his current strength, he certainly couldn't pull that off. A sword without a master, no matter how powerful, was just a weapon. The master determined the floor of the sword's ability, and also its ceiling.

"I can kill him, but in your hands, it will take me some time," the sword spirit stated bluntly.