Yan Feifan’s ability was finally coming in handy.
But the situation inside was still unclear.
Plus, he wasn’t good at combat. Letting him go in alone made Lu Ding uneasy.
Maybe sensing his concern, Yan Feifan pulled a rope from his bag, tying it around his waist as he spoke.
“Brother Lu, don’t worry. This is a special rope I exchanged for at the Bureau—it works with my ability. If anything happens when I go in, I’ll tug on it. If you feel it move, just pull out!”
“How about we just forget it? No need to take the risk. We can just go back to the Bureau and sign out so explosives to blast our way in.”
The real issue was that Lu Ding was worried sothing might happen to Yan Feifan inside.
After all, a White-Furred Hou had appeared here before.
Even though that kind of monster wasn’t a threat to Lu Ding, if Yan Feifan ran into one, it’d be like eting the Grim Reaper in person—instant death, no respawns.
“Brother Lu, this might not be what you want to hear, but you killed Ye Xuan today, and that old man from the Linghai Realm too. You were too ruthless. The higher-ups might punish you for it. If we delay too long, soone else might get here first.”
“Things change fast. I can phase through walls, worst case scenario I just eat a bit of dirt. I’ll be fine.”
Lu Ding understood that reasoning. He’d even thought about it before making his move.
But even so, he wouldn’t have held back, nor would he have spared those two.
An enemy left alive today would only bring trouble in the future.
Even if the Bureau punished him for excessive force, he’d accept it.
Ye Xuan and that old man had to die—no question about it.
Lu Ding nodded. “Just be careful. If anything happens, tug the rope imdiately.”
“Got it, Brother Lu.”
Yan Feifan stepped forward.
The solid stone wall rippled like water as he phased through.
Inside, a massive altar plaza ca into view.
Piles of white bones were stacked like mountains, frozen in various postures. The altar floor was stained with dried blood, its age impossible to determine.
Ahead, a giant suspended coffin was bound in midair by four thick iron chains, one at each corner.
Yan Feifan didn’t rush forward. He scanned the surroundings. Aside from the corpses on the altar and the hanging coffin, the tomb chamber was empty.
His gaze finally settled back on the coffin.
“If there’s any treasure here, it must be inside.”
“But how’s Brother Lu supposed to get in…”
He could phase through walls, but Lu Ding couldn’t.
And the stone door behind him wasn’t budging.
Yan Feifan turned around, searching for a possible chanism to open the door from inside.
It seed ridiculous—who would design a tomb so that the door chanism was inside?
But the next second, as he twisted the beast-shaped handle nearby, the stone door rumbled and slowly opened.
At that mont, Yan Feifan realized sothing important.
Never underestimate the bizarre logic of ancient people.
Soone really had put the door chanism inside.
What kind of idiot does that?
As the stone door opened, Lu Ding saw the strange look on Yan Feifan’s face.
“Brother Lu, I’ve really seen it all now. Who the hell puts the door chanism inside? Were they afraid the dead might wake up and not be able to get out?”
Yan Feifan’s sarcasm was cut short.
His expression twisted in fear.
He turned back toward the suspended coffin.
“Lu… Brother Lu, you don’t think whatever’s inside is still alive, do you?”
“No way to know,” Lu Ding replied as he stepped into the tomb.
“What if the tomb’s owner wasn’t willing to just die and left sothing behind, waiting for the right mont to co back?”
Lu Ding had never personally seen such a thing.
But the 749 Bureau’s records docunted plenty of cases.
Old monsters that had revived.
Old monsters that had turned into corpse beasts.
Old monsters who tried to reincarnate but beca abominations instead.
Not everyone could accept death peacefully without causing trouble.
Yan Feifan quietly moved behind Lu Ding.
“Brother Lu, what do we do now? Climb up there? Or should we just light a candle in the corner—if it changes color or goes out, we run?”
“We’re not grave robbers. No ‘light the candle, ghosts blow it out’ crap. Instead of us going up there, I’d rather bring it down here.”
Who knew what kind of trap might trigger if they climbed up?
The last thing they needed was to open the coffin and get hit with a face-to-face death strike.
Lu Ding raised his hand and slashed at one of the chains.
Clang!
The chain snapped instantly. The coffin swayed violently.
Lu Ding followed up with a few more strikes.
With a thunderous crash, the massive black coffin plumted to the ground. The impact shook the entire plaza, cracks splitting the altar floor as dust and rubble rained down.
Lu Ding floated forward.
With a single kick, he sent the coffin lid flying, revealing what lay inside.
A man lay within, clad in armor, his cloak a deep blood-red. His face was hidden behind a sinister, ornate mask.
His hands rested over his abdon, showing no signs of decay—his flesh looked disturbingly fresh, as if he were still alive.
Sothing was definitely wrong.
Before Yan Feifan could even react in shock, Lu Ding moved.
He slashed down with a lethal blow, aiming straight for the corpse’s head.
In that instant, the mask covering the man’s face rippled and twisted, revealing eerie, demonic eyes and a wicked grin.
With an unnatural contortion, the figure dodged the attack and flipped upright, its lips moving soundlessly.
Boom!
Lu Ding lashed out with a whip kick, sending the corpse flying into the wall.
“Brother Lu, I think it was trying to say sothing…”
“I don’t care!”
Lu Ding’s voice was cold. He raised his hand, channeling his Qi.
Countless slashes burst forth, sweeping through the tomb in an indiscriminate storm of destruction.
He had no patience to listen to whatever this thing had to say—ghost, demon, spirit, or monster, it didn’t matter.
If it wasn’t human, it had to die.
Inside the tomb, the armored corpse twisted and dodged as best it could, but fresh wounds tore open across its body. Its armor shattered, revealing raw, crimson flesh beneath.
A sickening stench filled the chamber.
Lu Ding didn’t let up.
Strike after strike, he kept attacking.
The undead corpse’s movents were slowing down.
At that mont, Yan Feifan finally found the corresponding information in the 749 Bureau’s archive on his phone.
“Brother Lu!! It’s a Living Shed Corpse! It’s undergoing its final shedding! Hurry! Kill it now before it finishes!!”
A Living Shed Corpse was similar to a zombie, but fundantally different in nature.
According to ancient records, many powerful figures refused to accept their impending death.
Before their lifespan reached its end, they desperately sought ways to extend their life, or even achieve resurrection and immortality.
The Living Shed Corpse was one such thod.
It originated from the Buddhist Vajra teachings, which stated:
"If one is despised and reviled, it is the retribution of past sins, and they should have fallen into the lower realms. But through suffering contempt in this life, their past sins are erased, and they shall attain Supre Enlightennt... Thus, laying down the butcher’s knife, one may imdiately beco a Buddha."
This doctrine was ant for enlightennt.
But later generations twisted its aning, using forbidden rituals to subvert its principles.
Those who had committed great atrocities—mass murderers, warlords, and butchers of n—found this thod particularly suited to them.
Before death, they would refine themselves into Living Shed Corpses, expelling the poisons of slaughter, resentnt, and karmic sin from their bodies.
The accumulated malice would congeal into an armor of sin.
Shedding this armor was akin to shedding old skin—abandoning their past self, washing away their sins, in hopes of being reborn anew.
But the result was never a human being.
What erged was a monster—an undead abomination driven by primal instincts, possessing imnse power, feeding on raw flesh and blood.
To complete the Living Shed was to be reborn.
Even if the timing wasn’t perfect, as long as it finished shedding, it would awaken in an entirely new and terrifying form.
However, during this process, the Living Shed Corpse was at its weakest—just like a snake shedding its skin.
With Yan Feifan’s warning, Lu Ding instantly recalled the details.
He shot forward, closing in on the undead.
His Qi surged violently within him, his power at full throttle.
Behind him, the phantom of the Flying Bear materialized.
At this mont, he had already grasped three-tenths of the Flying Bear’s true essence.
With sheer brute force, he slamd the Living Shed Corpse to the ground, pinning it down.
“A living shed is nothing compared to dismbernt—let help you with that!”
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