Chapter 117: Kill [Extra Chapter for the Fierce, Reckless, and Arrogant Leader]

“Zhou Yi is here, don’t move! It seems he’s injured!”
“Boss, don’t scare me like that. Say something—are you dead?”
“Sir!”

Then came a chorus of choked sobs. Zhou Yi recognized the voices—Fatty, Sophia, and Cheng Zhi. Their grief sounded genuine; they probably thought he was dead.

Not bad. If I were really dead, no one would shout ‘serves you right,’ at least that would be some acknowledgment of this life.

Zhou Yi took a deep breath, stood up, blinked a few times, and sighed deeply toward the sea.

“Alright, let’s not torment each other anymore. Such illusions don’t harm me. I know exactly where I stand. Whether it’s a blow or a compliment, it doesn’t affect me.”

Sure enough, his words worked—the mirage on the sea vanished.

“You’re useless... your body... too weak. I’ll treat you, you gather... spirit stones.”

Zhou Yi chuckled. Calling himself useless, but this person wasn’t much better—speaking heavily as if about to collapse at any moment.

“Fine, deal. Let me out. Don’t leave me with a body cobbled together from fragments; I can’t do anything like this. Finding spirit stones is impossible.”

There was no reply. Zhou Yi only felt darkness and light flicker before his eyes. When he opened them again, he was still covering his mouth and nose with his elbow.

The stench lingered. The smell made him feel grateful just to be alive. He wiggled his head, his limbs, then carefully pulled out the nails embedded in his chest one by one.

He wondered if that old witch had some virus on her body—there was no way to inject tetanus antitoxin or blockers now.

The scratches hadn’t healed yet. He took a deep breath, tapped his ribs left and right. The cracking sounds seemed to have stopped.

Although he had fought desperately with the old witch, he knew the fractures remained—only temporarily realigned to their proper places so he couldn’t feel the pain, somewhat like a numbing anesthetic. Now was true healing.

No time to think further. The old witch was gone, but the remnants of Netherworld Mountain were still unknown. Especially after Shi Dan showed him the mirage, his worries grew.

Turning, he headed for the door. The electric sting from touching his back was still vivid, so he reached out to test it.

The old witch was dead, and the barrier here seemed to have vanished. This time, it didn’t stop Zhou Yi.

His heart leapt with joy. He hurried out of the main hall, only then noticing that nearly all of Netherworld Mountain was engulfed in flames.

Sophia jumped down from a rockery, bruised in many places. Seeing Zhou Yi’s joyful expression, she felt relief—there was a moment when she thought Zhou Yi might not make it out.

“You’re alright! That’s such a relief!”

Zhou Yi glanced at the flames everywhere. On such a cold night, the heat was making him sweat.

“Where are Fatty and Cheng Zhi? How’s your progress?”

Sophia nodded, unable to hide her smile.

“They’re at the rear, at the corpse oil refinery. They found something else there. Fatty and Cheng Zhi are handling it—everything must be burned to be sure.”

Zhou Yi exhaled, then thought of Ye Qing and the others.

“Did Ye Qing’s group suffer heavy losses?”

Sophia shook her head.

“They weren’t allowed to attack Netherworld Mountain. Their sect leader and top disciple were held back by you, leaving them leaderless. I set fires everywhere; they panicked. These undead creatures fear fire above all else.

As for Ye Qing’s group, they met the troops led by Liang Huang at the north gate and are in fierce battle. The enemy outnumbers them but hasn’t gained the upper hand. We just need to join them soon.”

Zhou Yi waved his hand.

“You come with me. Some things are safer if we split them up.”

Sophia looked puzzled but didn’t hesitate.

“What things?”

Zhou Yi led Sophia back into the main hall. Suddenly, the sight of the bone bed made her shudder—a terrifying visual assault.

Zhou Yi pointed at several porcelain jars on the bone bed and looked at Sophia.

“These jars—we’ll each take one and hide them in different worlds. Otherwise, someone might use forbidden arts to resurrect the black-robed imperial advisor.”

Sophia shivered.

“What’s inside?”

Zhou Yi glanced at two piles of powder nearby. The stench of decay still lingered in the room.

“Residual souls. The black-robed imperial advisor’s residual soul is in the jars. These two piles of powder—one belongs to the Netherworld Mountain sect leader, the other to their grandmaster.”

...

Dawn had fully broken.

At the north gate of Netherworld Mountain, the battle raged on. Zhou Yi held Cheng Zhi’s arm while Sophia grabbed Fatty; all three crouched atop the corner tower.

Ye Qing and the others were exhausted, about a dozen of them huddled back-to-back, gasping for breath.

Liang Huang’s troops had suffered heavy casualties but still numbered around a hundred.

This fight wasn’t about skill alone but endurance—who could outlast whom. If you couldn’t hold out, no matter how skilled, you’d die in the end.

Zhou Yi glanced at the three. Each wielded a handy weapon—Cheng Zhi carried a staff, Sophia two short swords, and Fatty a pair of massive hammers. Fatty also had some kind of shield strapped to his front and back—where he got that, nobody knew.

Zhou Yi smirked inwardly; they looked like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

He drew a long sword found in the main hall. Though he knew no real techniques, it was for show; he couldn’t just ignore Ye Qing’s group below.

“Go help down there. Capture Liang Huang alive if possible. Then have Ye Qing send him back to the capital as proof of loyalty. What happens next is up to the Martial King. The fire here will burn a while longer. Let’s move!”

He was the first to leap down with Cheng Zhi. Just before landing, Zhou Yi waved his hand, and Cheng Zhi was tossed to the opposite side. Ye Qing heard the noise and quickly looked toward Zhou Yi.

“Sect leader, we can do this!”

Zhou Yi waved them off. Sophia and Fatty also landed nearby.

“No chatter. No one escapes. Liang Huang must be captured alive. Kill everyone else!”

The word “kill” ignited Ye Qing and the others like adrenaline.

Reinforcements had arrived—led by their sect leader. Fighting shoulder to shoulder with him, what was there to fear?

Besides, Zhou Yi’s presence here meant the Netherworld Mountain was already taken care of—that was truly a reason to celebrate.

A great vengeance would be fulfilled. These small fry were nothing.

Each member of Qingcheng Mountain had bloodshot eyes, as if instantly reborn, surging forward to clash with Liang Huang’s royal troops.

The difference in morale made the enemy waver. The spirit of battle is psychological—if your heart isn’t in it, if you’re already thinking of retreat, how can you win?

Though Fatty couldn’t fight well, his enormous frame, combined with two shields strapped to him, made him a living battering ram. Charging into Liang Huang’s ranks, all formations collapsed.

Several were trampled, bruised, or smashed—dozens fell. Ye Qing and the others followed behind to finish them off. Suddenly, Liang Huang’s forces were reduced by thirty percent.

Liang Huang, clutching a long sword, seemed ready to draw it for defense. But imperial swords were mostly ornamental—long and unwieldy. After two awkward tries, he finally freed it from its sheath, holding it aloft as he shouted at Zhou Yi,

“I am the Emperor of Da Liang! Who dares obstruct my entry into Netherworld Mountain?”

Zhou Yi laughed.

He raised his hand slightly, causing everyone to step back. He took a step forward and regarded Liang Huang.

He remembered the encounter on the mountain in the imperial garden with the Second Princess—he had found the girl adorable and didn’t want her fatherless.

But this damned emperor, blinded by lust, destroyed Qingcheng Mountain for a woman and now sought to ruin the entire Da Liang kingdom, all while wearing an innocent expression. That was intolerable.

Zhou Yi sneered.

“Emperor Liang? The real emperor is in the capital. You just lead a troop dressed in royal guards’ uniforms, claiming to be the emperor. You think you’re fooling anyone?

As far as I know, the true Emperor Liang was gravely ill and passed away last night. The Martial King, urged by officials, will ascend the throne in three days. You don’t know this? Isn’t that laughable?”

Liang Huang narrowed his eyes, staring at Zhou Yi.

At that moment, he understood—this man before him was no pious believer. Waiting here meant one thing: regicide.

“You are... one of the Martial King’s men?”

Zhou Yi shook his head.

“I am Zhou Yi, Sect Leader of Qingcheng Mountain. Surprised? Last time, the black-robed imperial advisor Ruoqing was sent to annihilate Qingcheng Mountain. Although we suffered heavy losses, we were not wiped out.

As the saying goes, good and evil will be repaid; heaven’s wheel turns. Today, we burn Netherworld Mountain, kill its sect leader and you, and purge the soul of your Ruoqing advisor. No more demons will plague Da Liang!

Qingcheng Mountain disciples, obey orders! Take revenge for our old sect leader—wipe out the remnants of Netherworld Mountain! Kill them all!”