Sizzle—!!
Flames collided violently with the corpse miasma.
The air twisted.
Burned.
Distorted.
The zombie was forced back—
Step by step.
Its arms—
Charred black.
Painful, guttural roars tore from its throat.
Yet—
Neither Uchiha Mo…
Nor Uchiha Hideki—
Moved.
No panic.
No urgency.
Only—
Calm.
Cold.
Observation.
Because this fight—
Was no longer about killing.
It had become—
A test.
A silent one.
Between them.
Mo's eyes flickered.
"Three-tomoe Sharingan… precise control… condensed output…"
"His strength… is not low."
Behind his glasses—
Hideki analyzed as well.
"His movements look inefficient…"
"But every step… minimizes damage."
"That shuriken earlier—perfect timing."
"How strong… is he?"
Silence.
But both understood.
The zombie—
Was just a tool.
A measuring stick.
———
At the foot of the mountain—
Three figures advanced quickly.
Leading—
A man in his forties.
Square-faced.
Steady.
An invisible sense of righteousness surrounded him.
An apricot-yellow cloth bag hung behind his back.
Behind him—
A young man.
Light-footed.
Playful.
And behind them—
A villager.
Terrified.
"Uncle Jiu! Please save us!"
"The back mountain is getting worse!"
"Graves have been opened—bodies are gone!"
"No one dares go out at night!"
Uncle Jiu frowned slightly.
"Don't worry."
"Since I'm here—"
"I'll deal with it."
But—
A trace of unease rose in his heart.
After decades of cultivation—
His sensitivity to yin energy—
Was far beyond ordinary people.
And right now—
The energy on that mountain…
Was wrong.
Not dispersing.
Gathering.
Condensing.
Even—
Devouring life.
His expression darkened.
"Ordinary corpse transformation… wouldn't reach this level."
A thought surfaced—
"Corpse-nurturing ground…?"
If true—
This wasn't simple.
Green zombies.
Hairy zombies.
Even worse—
Something controlling them.
"…Troubled times."
"All kinds of monsters appear."
Qiu Sheng blinked.
"Master… is it that serious?"
Uncle Jiu didn't answer directly.
"Stay close to me later."
"Prepare ink line. Glutinous rice."
"This situation… isn't simple."
BOOM—!!
A distant explosion echoed.
All three froze.
"Master! That came from the mountain!"
"Did another Taoist arrive first?"
"…No."
Uncle Jiu shook his head slowly.
"This isn't Maoshan technique."
That explosion—
Was different.
Violent.
Direct.
Not talismans.
Not incantations.
Something else.
His gaze sharpened.
"Either…"
"A hidden expert…"
"Or something far more dangerous."
"Let's go."
———
The closer they got—
The heavier the air became.
Burnt.
Rotten.
Scorched.
The aftermath of battle—
Lingering.
"Master… it's quiet."
"Is it over?"
"Silence."
Uncle Jiu raised a hand.
His senses spread outward.
Detecting.
Analyzing.
Then—
His pupils shrank.
"…The corpse aura… is gone?"
Shock.
To kill a green zombie—
This quickly?
The opponent's strength—
Was no joke.
They moved forward.
Carefully.
Hidden.
Until—
They reached the graveyard.
Branches parted.
And they saw—
The battlefield.
Ruined.
Scorched black.
Everything—
Burned.
At the center—
A corpse.
A zombie.
Qing official robes.
Chest pierced through.
Dead.
Completely.
But—
That wasn't what shocked him most.
It was—
Them.
Two figures.
Young.
Seventeen. Eighteen.
Dressed like villagers.
Yet—
Completely out of place.
One—
Calm.
Looking at a strange device on his wrist.
The other—
Glasses.
Gentle face.
Yet crouched beside the corpse—
Examining it.
As if it meant nothing.
Uncle Jiu's gaze sharpened.
No orthodox aura.
No spiritual energy.
Instead—
Something else.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Unfamiliar.
"…Not orthodox cultivators."
"…Those explosions… that aura…"
"…Who are they?"
Foreign sorcerers?
Or—
Something else entirely?