Chapter 133: The Peerless Ruthless One

As these words left his lips, the two deacons were momentarily stunned. The fat deacon in particular, whose face was covered in lumps, seemed to turn a shade of vivid, blood-red.

Narrowing his eyes, the fat deacon stared at Xing Bing for a long time, as if meeting him for the first time.

It was utterly unexpected!

In the past, whenever this brat Xing Bing failed to complete a task, he would always push one of his own men forward to be fed to the living corpses, while he himself cowered like a tortoise. Why had he changed his tune today?

"Could it be that after choosing a life-bound corpse a few days ago and seeing his strength skyrocket, the boy has finally grown a spine?"

Though puzzled, the fat deacon reached into his robes and produced a jet-black dagger with a ghastly skull hilt, handing it to Xing Bing.

He had pulled the number "one hundred stabs" out of thin air. His goal was merely to intimidate Xing Bing; as a villain, he spoke without restraint, and the number was just a formality intended to strike fear into others. He never believed that this brat, who was just as tubby as himself, would actually go through with it.

Yet, as it turned out, Xing Bing had accepted the challenge.

One hundred stabs!

What kind of concept was that? Only now did the fat deacon realize what a terrifying number he had blurted out. Even for himself, twenty stabs would be the absolute limit; any more, and he would be dead on the spot.

The scarred man shared the same thought. Both of them concluded that Xing Bing must have gone mad. Even the old ghost-crone sitting on the large boulder cast a fleeting glance toward Xing Bing, seemingly sensing that something about the lad was amiss.

That single glance from the crone sent a jolt of caution through Qin Feng, but fortunately, she only seemed curious about Xing Bing’s ruthless streak and harbored no further suspicions.

Controlling Xing Bing’s body, Qin Feng took the blade.

On the hilt, a ghostly skull appeared lifelike, its massive mouth agape with interlocking fangs, a crimson tongue lolling out as it stared straight at him. Qin Feng sneered. To others, this might be terrifying, but to the already-dead Xing Bing, it was child's play.

"Brother Ge, is it?"

Qin Feng, through Xing Bing, asked the fat man with a ferocious expression. His gaze, sharp as ice, pierced the deacon's very soul. The fat deacon was startled, but he did not back down, nodding as he replied, "Yes, what of it?"

"Keep count for me, stab by stab!"

With that, he plunged the blade into his own thigh, the entire length of the steel sinking into the flesh until only the hilt remained visible.

Before the fat deacon could react, the second blade followed into his leg.

One stab, two, three... ten... each blow sank deep, shredding muscle and skin. Xing Bing continued one strike after another without a moment’s hesitation, making the onlookers feel as if he were stabbing someone else rather than himself. Once the left leg was finished, he moved to the right.

The ghost on the blade roared continuously, tearing and gnawing at Xing Bing’s flesh. Xing Bing was soon shrouded in a mist of black energy and flying gore—a truly horrific sight.

Yet, Xing Bing did not utter a sound, nor did his expression flicker.

Stupefied!

Everyone present was frozen in shock by such raw, ruthless intensity. Even the ghost-crone opened her eyes, staring at Xing Bing with immense surprise.

"This brat has a vicious streak!"

However, when she cast her gaze upon the wounds caused by the Profound Ghost Blade, a flash of understanding crossed her face. Her suspicion evaporated, and she closed her eyes once more.

"So, he’s a Half-Life Demon Corpse. No wonder the boy is so decisive and cold-blooded. A talent worth keeping."

Xing Bing’s legs were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye; as he punctured one, the other repaired itself. After a hundred stabs, he stood there as if nothing had happened, not even a wrinkle on his brow.

"One hundred. Blade, return!"

The ghost on the weapon seemed satiated, licking its lips in satisfaction before retreating into the blade.

Qin Feng, still controlling Xing Bing, wore a look of lingering intensity. He held the Profound Ghost Blade out toward the fat deacon, licked his own blood-stained lips, and said with a sinister grin, "Brother Ge, would you like to take a few stabs yourself for fun? I’ll count them carefully for you today, so we can get to know each other better in the future!"

A threat—a naked, brazen threat!

At that moment, everyone was terrified of Xing Bing. Not only was he ruthless, but he was also a man who feared nothing, daring to threaten a deacon of the Human-Qi Realm while only at the Mortal-Qi Realm himself.

"Ugh!"

The fat deacon’s expression stiffened instantly. Although his eyes remained cold, he ultimately retreated under the weight of Xing Bing’s cruel, predatory stare.

Glaring fiercely at Xing Bing, he muttered awkwardly, "Fine, that’s enough! You’ve got guts, kid. Bring me two hundred extra corpses tomorrow. If you don't, it won't be as simple as a few stabs!"

The fat deacon waved his hand helplessly, signaling for it to end.

"Damn, if a guy like Xing Bing can take a thousand stabs, what does it matter? Only those bizarre life-bound demon corpses possess such monstrous regenerative abilities. Even if this one is only at the Profound Grade upon birth, its innate abilities and potential for growth are the best of its kind—it might even evolve into the Earth or Heaven Grade. If he keeps rising, he might end up stepping on my head one day. Better to avoid offending him."

Xing Bing smiled, his blood-smeared face looking exceptionally savage.

He turned and walked away with a jaunty stride, beckoning his men to follow.

Watching Xing Bing’s retreating back, a sense of inexplicable panic welled up in the fat deacon’s heart. In the Earth Corpse Sect, every generation saw a few peerless monsters rise—men of endless slaughter and blood-soaked paths. They were the pride of the sect, and the nightmares of everyone else.

"It seems... it would be best to stay out of his way from now on."

Qin Feng was unaware of the fat deacon’s sudden reverence. When he had realized he could opt to take the stabs in place of his subordinates, he had seized the opportunity without hesitation.

Xing Bing was already a corpse, so what were a few stabs? Besides, his rapid-healing ability allowed him to perfectly masquerade as Xing Bing’s life-bound demon corpse.

He had feared being exposed, but with the rapid-healing ability, everything fell into place. It was flawless!

Qin Feng was extremely satisfied with the identity of Xing Bing; it was a tailor-made disguise for his infiltration.

The reason he saved those men wasn't just because they were innocent; Qin Feng had ulterior motives. His past experiences taught him that to thrive in the Earth Corpse Sect, one needed capable lackeys. This way, he wouldn't have to show his face for trivial matters, and he could delegate the legwork, reducing his exposure and increasing his safety.

But loyalty is the hardest thing to buy, so he had used a heavy hand.

Now, he didn't have to worry about them being anything less than deeply grateful.

As expected, everything went according to plan. Through this act of self-torture, the way the six men looked at him had completely changed.

When they reached a secluded spot, spurred on by the fire-stoking words of Fan Liu, all six of them knelt before him in unison.

At that moment, Qin Feng smiled—a smile of profound triumph.