Chapter 90: So He Was Cultivating the Earth Immortal Path

Chapter 90: So It Was a Cultivator of Earthly Immortality

At the sight of Zhang Sanlu, the Li family’s Grand Matron’s head quivered with excitement, unnaturally stretching forward. Though she did her utmost to maintain an air of languid indifference, her body betrayed an urgency and impatience she could not conceal.

With her eyes half-closed in feigned ease, the Grand Matron spoke, “Good child—excellent, excellent, truly wonderful. At a glance, you are a fine young man. Now that the betrothal has been delivered, you are one of our Li family. Come, quickly now, come here and let me hold my dear child—”

Zhang Sanlu remained standing at the foot of the altar steps, unmoving, offering no response. He seemed to stand there blank and stupefied, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He believed himself to be keeping his wits, but in truth, his face was a tangled mess of conflicting, unnamed emotions that would have seemed utterly ridiculous to any onlooker.

The Grand Matron’s eyes stayed narrowed, but her voice quickened, “Still not coming? Do you think I’ll call you again and again? Come here, now!”

“You little wretch, how dare you slight your ancestor’s command?” Her hands gripped the wide arms of her grand chair, her bloated body lurching forward, nearly toppling from the altar.

“Have those useless, white-haired grandsons of mine not taught you to be filial? To heed the words of your honored elders? How dare you be so disrespectful! I’ll say it again—come here now!”

At last, Zhang Sanlu moved. As he did, a vision seemed to swim before his eyes: familiar-looking children, seized in midair by those withered arms, struggling in despair, like snacks—fruit, candied treats, dried preserves—being stuffed into that monstrous maw, devoured whole, red, white, and yellow, brains, marrow, blood, all greedily consumed.

The thing on the altar fell silent, simply sitting there with interest, observing the person before it. Yes, it considered itself a god, holding the power of life and death over others.

At that moment, Zhang Sanlu’s heart was nearly set ablaze with fury.

Then, in the northwest corner of the room, his gaze fell on a great heap of black and brown objects, carelessly piled as if they were discarded fruit peels after a feast.

Staring hard, Zhang Sanlu realized they were shoes—children’s shoes, for little ones of three or four, six or seven years old. Here and there, a few pairs belonged to adults.

Some were old and worn, lying there who knows how long; others were still new. At this sight, a nameless rage surged within Zhang Sanlu. How many innocent children, how many promising youths, had met their senseless end here? The Li family had been feeding this monstrous mass of flesh, offering up human sacrifices to this insatiable, man-eating “god.”

Zhang Sanlu looked at the shoes, feeling a chill grow behind him. Suddenly, a huge shadow loomed as he turned—his body instinctively dove forward. The old thing had nearly caught him!

He flung himself forward just as a searing pain ripped through his back, as if torn by savage fangs.

He crashed to the ground from the force, his back burning with pain. Holding his breath, he rolled swiftly, scrambled to his feet, and with a low growl, gripped one of his own ribs, pushing with all his might to the left and snapping it sharply.

The rib pierced through his abdomen, bursting out in a spray of blood.

With a cry, Zhang Sanlu wrenched the bloodied bone free, stabbing it into the stump of his severed arm, then tore it violently to the right!

A sickening crack rang out as flesh and blood flew, mingling with his howl of agony.

A thunderous, inhuman shriek echoed behind him.

In the dead silence of the subterranean chamber, the sound sent chills down the spine, as if it rose from the depths of hell, full of boundless rage and terror.

Turning, Zhang Sanlu saw that the Grand Matron’s once-mountainous body was now being consumed, corroded away. Chunks of tumor-laden flesh dropped off, exposing beneath a mass of blood-red, sinewy muscle, raw and gory.

The fallen flesh writhed and crawled across the floor, exuding a strange, sinister aura. The Grand Matron let out shrill, tormented screams, licking Zhang Sanlu’s blood from her lips, her eyes flashing with greed before being overtaken by the agony.

A nauseating stench filled the room, the fallen flesh leaving bloody trails and transforming the space into a vision of hell.

“You possess an Innate Immaculate Body?!” the Grand Matron screeched, her voice shrill as a banshee.

Zhang Sanlu, wracked with pain, felt a jolt of shock. He had used this “Dreadful Disgust” technique before, but never had anyone survived the agony of evisceration and chest-rending! But what was an Innate Immaculate Body?

“Cultivation is not easy—you brought this on yourself!” Whatever the thing was, it no longer resembled the Grand Matron. Crawling on the ground, its skinless, blood-red, mangled body was enough to fill anyone with horror and disgust.

A searing pain radiated from Zhang Sanlu, infecting everything around him. The thing was greedily trying to drag itself upright, but Zhang Sanlu was not one to stand by.

With quick hands, he seized a tall, gilded candelabrum from the steps and, mustering all his strength, smashed it down on the creature.

With a crisp crack, the flesh and muscle caved in, and the thing toppled backward, crashing into a pillar and snapping it in two, toppling a row of candles behind. The candelabrum in Zhang Sanlu’s hands broke cleanly in half.

The floor was slick with the fat that had dropped from its melting body—perfect tinder. At the touch of flame, it caught fire with a roar.

Unsatisfied, Zhang Sanlu pulled a “Fire-Talisman” from his robe and pressed it onto another burning candelabrum. He hefted the golden staff and, with all his might, hurled it like a javelin into the Grand Matron’s chest. Countless tentacle-like tubes burst beneath the impact. Zhang Sanlu yanked it free and, on the second blow, drove it into her eyeball, exploding it in a spray of red and white pus. The fire on her body blazed even fiercer, and she screamed in agony.

To Zhang Sanlu’s astonishment, the Grand Matron’s vitality was monstrous. Even after all this, she was still writhing and leaping about. Where the flesh had burned away, new, shapeless flesh began to sprout, slowly regenerating. She crawled toward him on multiple hands, heedless of the flames consuming her.

Beneath the falling lumps of flesh, putrid red rot was exposed. Tumorous growths burst out into the air, instantly swarming with countless pale, wriggling insects, which crawled outward in all directions.