Chapter 25: The Formidable Qin Feng, Stunning the Audience!

"Senior... what... what should we do now?"

Xuan Yu huddled closer to Qin Feng, his face pale with dread. The opponent’s strength was clearly formidable. Even without engaging, he knew he was no match for this evil cultivator. As for the others, they were either dead or severely wounded, no longer capable of fighting.

"Do not worry. As long as I am here—though I am on the verge of turning into a corpse myself—I still possess some strength," Qin Feng said, extending his right hand, now tipped with sharp, blade-like nails, to gently pat Xuan Yu’s shoulder in reassurance.

"Huh?"

The evil cultivator from the Myriad Evil Sect looked on with surprise. "A little zombie like you has actually developed sapience? No, you are not a zombie. But that’s not right either—you clearly reek of corpse aura. You are undoubtedly a hopping zombie."

"Fellow Daoist Qin Feng, the corpse poison has entered your body; you are barely holding on yourself and are no match for this man! Take Xuan Yu and run!" a heavily wounded Daoist disciple shouted, suddenly lunging forward to clamp his arms around the evil cultivator’s legs.

"So, the poison has taken hold and you are about to turn? No wonder your corpse aura is so thick, yet you still retain your humanity. To suppress the poison to this extent, your cultivation must be profound. But the process must be agonizing, isn't it? After all, you are only one step away from becoming a true zombie—the moment your sapience fades away," the evil cultivator sneered, looking at Qin Feng with mockery. Regardless of how strong Qin Feng might have been before, in this state, he was surely a shadow of his former self.

"Fellow Daoist Qin Feng, run!" the disciple bellowed desperately.

"Run? None of you are leaving tonight!" The evil cultivator smiled sinisterly, then drew a black blade from his waist and thrust it through the disciple's back. Even then, the disciple refused to let go of his legs.

"Stubborn fool!" With a swift motion, the evil cultivator severed the disciple’s arms. The man’s mouth hung open, and he drew his final breath.

"Qin Feng, is it? A deacon of the One Yang Sect? It is your turn now!" The evil cultivator’s eyes were filled with malice and violent intent. In a flash, he charged toward Qin Feng. As a practitioner of the Myriad Evil Sect, he was well-versed in the various sects around Songshan City. Dressed in the robes of a deacon, Qin Feng had to be a high-ranking member of the One Yang Sect—likely a master in the late stage of the Spirit Communication Realm, or perhaps even the early stage of the Out-of-Body Realm. Only then could he suppress such potent corpse poison. Anyone else would have long since lost their humanity and become a mindless, bloodthirsty creature.

"Senior Qin Feng, watch out!" Xuan Yu warned.

"It is of no consequence." Qin Feng shifted his body, easily dodging the blade. Then, stepping with a precise rhythm, he executed a series of footwork patterns.

This was the same *Bu Gang* footwork he had seen the Taoist White Crane perform. Having watched it closely, he had committed it to memory. Immediately following this, Qin Feng curved his hands into claws and unleashed a fierce, relentless barrage of strikes upon the evil cultivator. The cultivator’s pupils contracted, and he hurriedly raised his blade to parry.

*Clang! Clang! Clang!*

Sharp nails collided with the black blade, sending sparks flying with every impact. With the strength of a mid-stage hopping zombie, Qin Feng stood his ground against the mid-stage Spirit Communication Realm cultivator without yielding an inch.

The onlookers, wounded and lying on the ground, watched in stunned silence. They had assumed Qin Feng was as good as dead, never expecting him to display such overwhelming power. But the next second, something even more astonishing occurred. Qin Feng’s footwork shifted seamlessly; he transitioned from one complex pattern to another, fluidly adapting as he fought. They knew better than anyone how difficult such a maneuver was.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in footwork, the evil cultivator faltered. Qin Feng seized the opening, his hands moving to form seals—the Lion Seal, the Three Pure Ones Seal, the Dao Seal, the Green Steel Seal—each performed with effortless precision.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!*

A rapid succession of seals hammered against the evil cultivator, forcing him into a desperate retreat.

"My god, is Senior Qin Feng really this fierce?" Xuan Yu gasped in disbelief.

"Fellow Daoist Qin Feng is truly incredible. His mastery of the footwork and seals has reached the pinnacle of perfection," another whispered.

"Indeed, but it is a tragedy; with the corpse poison in his blood, he cannot last long."

"Perhaps not. With the thousand-year ginseng, he might be able to purge the poison from his body!"

"To be this strong while afflicted... imagine what he would be like without the poison."

"I used to think his cultivation was mediocre, but I was wrong. If even someone as powerful as Qin Feng was wounded by that zombie earlier, how terrifying must that creature be?" The wounded Daoists sighed with mixed emotions.

"How is this possible? You have the corpse poison in your blood, yet you are this strong? Do you not need to suppress it?" Facing Qin Feng’s relentless assault, the evil cultivator began to panic. He could not comprehend it. Every strike was infused with terrifying, inhuman power. His arm was already numb from the force of the blows. It felt as if he were fighting a true zombie, not a man.

Perhaps, he thought, this man had decided to cast aside all caution to kill him—giving up on suppressing the poison, choosing to drag the enemy down with him in his final moments of lucidity.

"Damn you! Let’s see how long you can hold on!" The evil cultivator gritted his teeth and retreated further.

Qin Feng, however, continued to weave his techniques together, merging fists, claws, and palms into a seamless flow. The evil cultivator could find no rhythm to counter. Finally, Qin Feng grabbed the black blade with his bare hand.

*Screech!*

Sparks flew as the evil cultivator struggled to pull the blade free. Just as it came loose, Qin Feng struck with a swift hand-blade.

*Crack!*

The black sword snapped in two. Following this, Qin Feng delivered a punch.

*Boom! Crack!*

The evil cultivator’s breastbone shattered, his chest caving inward. He spat a fountain of blood, mixed with pulverized organs, and was sent flying like a broken kite for over ten meters before slamming into a large tree. As he slumped to the ground, bubbles of blood forming at his lips, he looked at Qin Feng with absolute terror. "You... you... are not... human..."

He knew now. No human could possess such strength. This was the mark of a zombie. If a Daoist were to unleash such power while suppressing poison, the infection would have flared up instantly. He had been deceived, and so had all the others.

"It is a pity," Qin Feng said, stepping toward him and pulling off his mask to reveal two sharp, chilling fangs glinting in the light. "You realized it too late."

He grabbed the cultivator by the neck and crushed it.