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Shawn Young and his companions looked up and saw an elderly monk emerge, draped in a tangerine-colored kasaya and sporting a steely blue shaved head. He was burly, his upper eyelids drooping slightly with a listless air. Deep wrinkles marked the corners of his eyes, bearing the traces of age. His gaunt face was covered in age spots, and his chin was absurdly long. The old monk gripped a glossy black cane, which Shawn immediately noticed looked almost identical to Grandmaster Draco's staff.
The old monk shuffled slowly to a spot not far from Shawn Young and stood there. He then grinned at Shawn, revealing teeth so yellow they looked ready to fall out. His upper eyelids narrowed, his cheeks deeply sunken; his face, etched with deep lines, radiated a sinister aura. The monk looked practically mummified! Just one glance was enough to make anyone uneasy. Most bizarre of all, his nearly shut eyes suddenly snapped open like a venomous snake waking from hibernation, shooting out a soul-chilling, icy glare.
"Jie jie jie—My Dharma name is Grandmaster Zenith. Boy, I see you have some skill. You must've put in serious effort in your cultivation. Not bad!" The old monk croaked at Shawn Young, his voice as grating as a night owl.
"Oh! So you're Grandmaster Zenith! You don't look much like Grandmaster Draco, but you've got the same vibe—pretending to be all mystical and badass!" Shawn Young was stunned at first, then retorted without a shred of politeness.
"Oh, really? So you've tangled with my dear junior brother, huh? Tell me, did you get a taste of Grandmaster Draco's black magic?" Grandmaster Zenith's eyes flashed with a venomous glint as he asked.
"Heh heh—Yeah, I tasted it. But your junior brother wasn't much, kept playing tricks until he got himself caught up! Ha, old man, feeling a bit disappointed?" Shawn Young sneered at Grandmaster Zenith.
"Uh—Kid, are you saying... my junior brother lost to you?" Grandmaster Zenith asked, a flicker of surprise on his old, twitching face.
"Heh, no need to wonder—your junior brother, Grandmaster Draco, is already dead!" Shawn Young continued coldly.
"Hmm? Is that so? My junior brother's dead? How unexpected—" Grandmaster Zenith exclaimed in surprise, though his face showed no sadness, only a hint of excitement. He pinched his left fingers into a strange mudra, half-closed his eyes, and stretched his neck, turning his head in the air as if searching for something.
"Heh, you want to snatch your junior brother's soul to fuel your black magic, huh? Too bad—you missed your chance! His soul's already scattered. He'd rather face destruction than be your slave! Looks like you're not just vicious, old man, but seriously unpopular. You won't even spare your own junior brother! You're worse than an animal!" Shawn Young mocked Grandmaster Zenith mercilessly.
"Hmph—you brat, what do you know! A true warlock must be ruthless and heartless to achieve true power!" Grandmaster Zenith, unable to sense his soul-tracing spell on Grandmaster Draco, finally believed Shawn Young—Grandmaster Draco's soul was gone, and his plan to use the corpse for forbidden cultivation was ruined.
"Oh yeah? Well, let me see what kind of earth-shattering power a heartless old freak like you really has!" Shawn Young said, focusing his energy and preparing to face Grandmaster Zenith. He could sense the powerful magic swirling around Zenith, who was clearly a formidable opponent—maybe even as tough as those Heavenly Master Order rebels!
"Good boy, since you ruined my plans, I'll use you to replace Draco—make you my sacrifice!" Grandmaster Zenith sneered, shaking his left hand. From his wide monk's robe, he produced a pitch-black object about the size of a grown man's shoe, wrapped in white threads. It looked like a dried-up rice dumpling, but radiated a bizarre, sinister aura.
Next, Grandmaster Zenith raised his glossy black staff with his right hand and circled it around the object, tapping left three times and right three times, all while chanting a strange Sanskrit incantation. Then he stomped his foot and pointed the staff at Shawn Young.
"Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—" The staff turned into a faint black mist, flowing into the object on the ground. It quickly swelled up, emitting eerie sounds. In seconds, the white threads snapped apart, and the thing took on a human shape.
"Boom—boom—" A column of black mist shot skyward from the object, which suddenly turned into a shriveled, grotesque female corpse. Its oily black body looked like dried wax, muscles and bones fused tightly together, eyes bulging white, tongue grotesquely extended—utterly horrifying. The most bizarre scene followed: the corpse writhed, its belly swelling like a balloon—'Bang!'—and exploded. From inside crawled two chubby, snow-white infants, cute at first glance, but their eyes were jet black and bottomless, giving off an intensely creepy vibe!
"Ah! What the hell is that—it's too cruel and disgusting! That old freak is a total psycho!" Jade Swann shuddered, both furious and horrified. As a cultivator, she immediately realized Grandmaster Zenith had used living people to forge these terrifying evil spirits.