Body command feeding world

The fog on the main peak of Black Wind Ridge is no ordinary mountain fog.

It was as thick as solidified ink, as heavy as cotton soaked in corpse water, slowly crawling along the cliff face, the plank road, and the cracks in the rocks. Wherever it passed, the vegetation instantly withered into black ash that crumbled at the slightest touch. Even the hard rock surface was covered with a layer of sticky, bone-chilling frost, as if even the rocks themselves had been frozen lifeless. The wind came through the fog, without any sense of movement, but rather like countless unseen, icy fingertips, gently brushing across the neck, earlobes, and back of the spine, carrying the stench of decaying leaves and stagnant water, drilling inch by inch into the flesh, making one's soul tighten, the hairs stand on end, and even breathing become heavy and labored.

Wu Wei stood at the end of the cliffside walkway, spear in hand. His twin-bladed swords, made of black iron, hung at his sides, the gilded patterns on the spears flickering with his breath, like a lone flame suppressed by darkness, threatening to be extinguished at any moment. Deep within his marrow, the resonance of the fragments of his origin grew increasingly intense, the tremors surging up his spine to his consciousness, clearly and stubbornly drawing him towards the half-collapsed ancient tomb submerged in the stagnant black swamp below the cliff—what he sought lay within that desolate, eerie tomb.

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, Shu's thoughts offered no further explanation, revealed the origin of the danger, or disclosed any form or weakness of the monster. Instead, they conveyed a faint, chilling warning that weighed heavily on the heart, each word carrying an unknown chill:

"There are spiritual auras all around, more than one. They are sinister and vicious, lurking in the shadows. They will attack if you get too close, so be careful."

It has no name, no characteristics, and no way to deal with it.

Only the word "danger" hung over his mind.

Unknown dangers are always more terrifying than obvious enemies.

Wu Wei nodded slightly, his fingertips gripping the golden point in the middle of the spear shaft. His Yang Flame Blood Essence was completely contained, not revealing a trace of its sharpness. The bone armor beneath his skin tightened gently, and his marrow essence slowly fused with the weapon along his meridians. The sensation of man and spear becoming one was almost tangible, yet it still couldn't suppress the increasingly intense chill emanating from his body. He didn't rush forward. His eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping over the boundless black swamp before him—the swamp water was abnormally calm, its inky blackness as viscous as solidified corpse oil, a layer of deathly white shimmering on the surface. Not even a ripple could be stirred by a breeze. The stench of decay filled the air; inhaling it felt like swallowing half a mouthful of rotting flesh, shooting straight to the top of his head.

The half-collapsed ancient tomb was submerged in the water, its stone gate long since cracked and crooked. Moss and dark brown corpse mud covered the mottled stone walls, and thick black evil energy seeped from the cracks, slowly writhing on the surface of the water like a living thing. Scattered on the surface of the swamp were messy pieces of cloth, dried hair, rusty needles, broken and white bone fragments, and sharp-edged shards of mirror. Every item exuded a chilling aura, but as far as the eye could see, the entire black swamp was deathly silent. There was no trace of any living thing, nor any obvious fluctuation of evil energy, only a suffocating silence.

It was so quiet that you could hear the soft cracking of your own joints, the faint sound of blood flowing through your meridians, and the delicate rustling of mist moving around your ears.

This extreme silence is itself the most terrifying omen.

Wu Wei gently ground his feet over the gravel on the plank road, about to take a step towards the edge of the black swamp, when the air around him suddenly tightened—without any warning, without footsteps, without the sound of air being cut, and without even a sign of a surge of malevolent energy, a black shadow silently emerged from the shadows of the plank road behind him, as if it had grown out of thin air.

The creature was hunched and emaciated, wrapped in a tattered, blackened old cloth stained with blood and corpse mud. Countless dry, yellowed hairs were wrapped around its body, with dense, blackened corpse threads strung between the strands. The crooked stitches dug deep into the flesh, seeping out dark red and black scabs. What was most chilling was its face. Its eyes had no pupils, no whites, and were completely sewn shut by thick, black corpse threads, stitch by stitch. The thread ends hung down on either side of its cheeks, swaying gently with its movements. Yet, those sewn-off eye sockets were precisely "staring" at Wu Wei's back of the heart, as if they could penetrate flesh and bone, directly locking away his life force and soul.

Its fingertips extended several inches of rusty needles, the tips of which were bluish-black and highly poisonous, stained with dried black blood.

The stitching is exquisite.

The demon suddenly accelerated without hesitation, its rusty needle piercing Wu Wei's acupoint on the back of his neck. The corpse threads wrapped around his body shot out like venomous snakes, carrying a chilling and sinister power, aiming to entangle his neck, sew up his mouth, and seal his eyes, turning the living man into a human skin puppet, imprisoning his soul within his body, never to be freed.

The attack came too suddenly, almost touching his back. The chilling aura instantly seeped into his clothes, sending a shiver down Wu Wei's spine.

The hairs on his back stood on end instantly. Before he could even turn around, his wrist spun violently, and the back of his marrow weapon lashed out. His restrained Yang Flame Blood Essence erupted instantly, and the blazing flames broke through the Yin Mist, carrying the power to burn away evil spirits and slash directly at the incoming rusty needles and corpse threads.

"Double Dragons Cutting the Moon - Backhand Interception!"

The two blades gleamed simultaneously, like iron shears snapping shut, precisely severing the incoming corpse threads and tangled hair. Black blood splattered from the cuts, hissing and crackling upon contact with the air, corroding the ground and causing black smoke to rise from the rubble. The Embroidered Spirit with its sewn eyes let out a piercing shriek, its voice as thin as a needle piercing cloth, sharp and shrill, stabbing straight into one's consciousness. The severed corpse threads around its body did not dissipate but instead grew and spread wildly, like an impenetrable black net, frantically enveloping and killing Wu Wei from all directions, trying to tightly bind, embroider, and seal him within its web.

Wu Wei whirled and stepped forward, wielding his spear with the agility of a feather. The spear tip aimed directly at the nodes of the corpse threads, a sharp, piercing light flashing, specifically designed to break through the power of evil and treacherous forces. Each thrust precisely struck the weakest point of the corpse threads, sending strands flying as the threads were melted by the yang energy, releasing a pungent, acrid stench. But this embroidered spirit was unfazed by physical injury; the corpse threads snapped and grew back, tore and mended again. The rusty needles relentlessly pursued his three vital acupoints—eyes, mouth, and throat—the chilling energy constantly eroding his meridians, drawing ever closer until they were almost touching face to face.

The stitched-up eye sockets were empty and bleeding, and the body wrapped in tattered old cloth exuded a strong stench of death. Dry hair swept across the cheeks, like the cold, stiff fingers of a dead person gently stroking them. Evil energy seeped into the pores of the skin, sending chills down one's spine.

Wu Wei's eyes were extremely cold. His body was filled with Yang Flame Blood Essence, which was frantically circulating to resist the invasion of Yin Evil. However, the corpse threads of the Embroidered Spirit were extremely strange. They would entangle and bind anything that touched them. In just a few breaths, his spear shaft was already entangled by several corpse threads. The rusted needle took the opportunity to pierce his brow, only an inch away.

Instead of retreating, he advanced suddenly, closing in abruptly. He gripped the gun tightly with both hands, lowered his waist, and exerted force, causing the yang flames to surge up along the blade, unleashing the full power of his burning evil.

"Burning Fiend Lock Blade!"

The spear was held horizontally, its double tips locking tightly into the embroidered spirit's arms. The scorching sun flames relentlessly burned its life-giving essence, causing the spirit to emit a shrill, distorted scream. Its body convulsed violently, black blood gushing from its pores, its malevolent power surging wildly. But instead of retreating, it suddenly opened its mouth, spewing out a cloud of pitch-black poisonous mist. Wherever the mist passed, the air was corroded and distorted, heading straight for Wu Wei's face.

Wu Wei tilted his head to avoid the poisonous fog, then suddenly exerted force with his wrist, sending the spear tip forward to pierce the very center of Xiu Jing's brow.

The Yang Flame and the Marrow Essence exploded simultaneously, but the essence of this Embroidered Essence was several times more resilient than expected. It did not collapse instantly; instead, it used the force of the explosion to break free from the spearhead. The Corpse Threads grew wildly again, wrapping around Wu Wei's limbs, trying to bind him completely. Wu Wei kicked off the plank road with his feet, his body retreating rapidly. He swept his sword horizontally, forcefully severing the Corpse Threads around him, but his left arm was still entangled by a Corpse Thread. The rusty needle pierced his skin, and the bluish-black poison instantly spread along his blood vessels, causing his left arm to go numb and stiffen instantly.

The Yang Flame Blood Essence immediately surged to the wound, burning away the toxins, but the Yin Evil Toxins were extremely stubborn and difficult to completely eliminate for a time.

After a mere dozen breaths of fighting, Wu Wei was forced to the edge of the plank road, with the bottomless black swamp beneath his feet. The Embroidered Spirit's attacks grew increasingly fierce, the dense, dense lines of corpses blotting out the sky, and the chilling aura almost completely enveloping him. He knew he couldn't delay any longer. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he poured all the power of his bone marrow into the spear. The gilded patterns burst forth with dazzling golden light, and the Twin Blades Revolving Formation instantly unfolded.

The forwards break through the defense, the defenders strike the source of the attack; the guns flash like a tapestry, the sun's rays surge like a tide.

He no longer tried to dodge, charging straight at the rusty needles and corpse threads. The tip of his spear precisely pierced the eye sockets that had been sewn shut by the embroidered silk, striking directly at the core of the source. The combined power of Yang Flame and Marrow Essence erupted, completely incinerating its evil origin.

The shriek of the Embroidered Eye Fairy abruptly ceased, her body disintegrating inch by inch, turning into black silk and withered hair scattered all over the ground. The rusty needles clanged, and the last trace of Yin energy was swallowed up by the Yang Flame, but the remaining Yin chill still lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate for a long time.

Wu Wei stood with his spear sheathed, his left arm still numb, the toxins lingering, his breathing slightly rapid. Black blood and corpse threads stained his twin weapons, the Yangyan patterns slightly dimmed. Just as he raised his hand to wipe away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, the plank road beneath his feet suddenly softened—not because the planks had rotted and broken, but because the stagnant waters of the Black Swamp had silently risen from beneath the entire section of the plank road.

The water from the black swamp somehow climbed up the cliff face and onto the boardwalk.

There was no wind, no waves, and the swamp remained deathly still and calm. But the stagnant, black water was slowly climbing up the cliff face, along the planks of the boardwalk, and the edges of the rubble, like countless cold, black hands. Wherever it passed, the wooden boardwalk instantly rotted into mud, and the hard rocks were corroded until they crumbled and crumbled. The putrid smell grew stronger and stronger, almost suffocating people.

Immediately afterwards, a faint yet haunting cry for help from drowning drifted slowly from the depths of the swamp.

It wasn't a child's cry, nor an adult's call for help; it was a cry that was imitated to the extreme, yet cold and unreal, intermittent, hoarse and dry, as if the throat was filled with black mud and stagnant water. Each sound pierced straight into the sea of ​​consciousness, pulling one's soul involuntarily downwards, making one subconsciously want to approach, to reach out, to step into that doomed black swamp.

Wu Wei's brow suddenly turned cold. He forcefully suppressed his consciousness with his Yang Flame Blood Essence, resisting the soul-stirring sob, and remained unmoved.

He knew that the second aura of the spirit class had arrived.

Its form and weaknesses remain unknown; all that is known is that it is extremely dangerous.

The next second, the swamp surface exploded without warning.

No shadow appeared, no body outline appeared, only an enormous throat, layered with fine, sharp teeth, suddenly burst out from the depths of the stagnant water. It had no face, no head, no body, only churning black water and sharp white teeth. A nauseating stench emanated from the depths of its throat. It lunged straight at Wu Wei, intending to swallow him whole and drag him into the black mud to suffocate. Then it would crush his bones and suck his blood and soul.

Water porpoise.

This attack was more ferocious, more unexpected, and more oppressive than the previous embroidered spirit. Its enormous throat blotted out the sky, and the force of its sharp teeth scraped Wu Wei's face painfully. The splashed black water landed on his clothes, instantly corroding them with countless holes. The chilling power seeped into his body through the holes, intertwining with the remaining embroidered spirit toxins, causing a sharp pain in his meridians.

Wu Wei had no time to catch his breath. He kicked off the already rotten plank road with his feet, his body soaring into the air. He avoided the fatal bite at his throat, and thrust his gun forward with all his might. The combined power of his blood essence and marrow essence pierced through the black water and coldness, and went straight for the only soft flesh vital point deep in his throat.

"A single dragon pierces the sun!"

The spear tip pierced the soft flesh of the throat, the scorching heat burning through layers of sharp teeth. The swamp spirit let out a muffled roar, black water gushing out wildly, and the evil power rebounded along the spear, trying to drag Wu Wei into its throat. Using the force of the recoil, Wu Wei suddenly spun around, gripping the spear with both hands and sweeping it horizontally. The two edges were like scissors, forcefully forcing open the constantly closing throat. The scorching heat burst forth, burning the swamp spirit's very essence.

"Flame-Splittering Spear!"

The scorching heat of the swamp spirit burned wildly inwards from its throat, the black water vaporizing into a highly toxic black mist. The swamp spirit twisted and struggled madly in mid-air, its massive throat opening and closing repeatedly, trying to crush the spearhead and devour Wu Wei. However, the spearhead was firmly stuck in its throat, the burning power of the scorching heat relentlessly causing it unbearable pain. This swamp spirit was far more resilient than the embroidered spirit; its body was formed from stagnant water and yin energy, destroyed yet not scattered, broken yet reassembled. Even with its throat charred black, it continued to spew out black water and poisonous mist, corroding Wu Wei's clothes and skin. Layers of yin energy piled up, almost freezing his meridians.

Wu Wei was suspended in mid-air, with nowhere to gain leverage. He could only rely on his physical strength to contend with the spear's power. The poison in his left arm had not been cleared, making his movements slightly sluggish. He was constantly suppressed by the swamp spirit's sinister power, and the yang aura around his body was fading, gradually putting him at a disadvantage. He could clearly feel the sharp teeth deep in his throat constantly rubbing against the spear's tip, threatening to break the spear's momentum at any moment, swallowing him whole and dragging him into the bottomless black swamp.

On the brink of life and death, Wu Wei's eyes turned bloodshot, and the power of his bone marrow erupted completely. His bone armor clanged beneath his flesh, and the power of the three elements poured into his twin spears, causing the gilded patterns on the spear shafts to burst forth with unprecedented brilliance. He no longer forced his throat open; instead, he twisted his wrist sharply, and the back of the spear thrust backward, piercing straight into his core source along his throat. Yang Flame and Bone Marrow Essence exploded like two torrents.

A deafening muffled explosion echoed through the black swamp.

The massive throat completely collapsed, and the black water crashed back onto the swamp surface, splashing up black waves several meters high, leaving only strings of black bubbles with a fishy smell, slowly rising, bursting, and returning to deathly silence.

Wu Wei fell from mid-air, landing heavily on the remaining stone foundation walkway. His legs were slightly numb, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth again, the stiffness in his left arm worsened, his clothes were tattered and stained with black liquid and blood, his breathing was disordered, and his Yang Flame Blood Essence was greatly depleted. But he had no time to recover, because in his sea of ​​consciousness, Shu's warning sounded again, still only a simple sentence:

"Furthermore, those that lurk in the shadows are even more dangerous."

The third aura of a spirit, which had been lying dormant for a long time, was quietly watching him, waiting for the moment when he was exhausted, before launching the most deadly attack.

The fear did not dissipate; instead, it pressed down harder and harder like a tide. The malevolent energy in the entire black swamp grew increasingly dense, and the shadow of the ancient tomb, like a giant beast, slowly opened its mouth.

Wu Wei stood with his gun in hand, forcibly suppressing the surging blood and toxins within his body. His Yang Flame Blood Essence circulated again, burning away the remaining toxins on his left arm. His eyes were fixed on the shattered mirrors floating on the surface of the swamp.

The lenses were deathly white, with sharp, knife-like edges, and floated scattered on the black water, gleaming with an eerie, cold light in the thick, dark fog.

The most bizarre thing is that in all the broken mirrors, there is no light, no clouds, no figure of his, not even the reflection of the black swamp. There is only a blurry, distorted, blood-red shadow, like a person struggling in pain, like flesh being torn apart, like blood being drained dry, leaving only a thin human skin stuck to pale bones, eerie and terrifying, chilling to the soul.

Wu Wei had just taken a step, intending to cross the swamp and approach the ancient tomb's stone gate, when suddenly—all the shattered mirrors lit up simultaneously without warning.

Without sound or warning, the mirror suddenly reflected countless gruesome illusions: the chests of the tragically deceased cultivators were ripped open, their blood essence drained away, leaving only skin and bones; shattered mirrors were scattered all over the ground, and pools of blood spread endlessly. Silent agonizing screams echoed in the sea of ​​consciousness, and the soul-capturing power pierced the soul, causing people to instantly lose their senses, stiffen, and become icy cold, even hindering the circulation of their blood essence.

Just as Wu Wei's mind went blank for a moment, the shattered mirror suddenly exploded.

A monster, pieced together from countless shattered mirrors and pale bone fragments, burst forth from the bottom of the swamp. Its joints cracked and creaked, the sound grating and unpleasant. Mirror fragments were densely embedded in its body, each reflecting a gruesome illusion. Its bone claws were sharp as knives, and the edges of the mirrors were sharp enough to cut veins and sever blood. Its aura was so cold it could freeze the soul. Its sinister power far surpassed that of the previous two monsters.

Shattered Mirror Bone Demon.

It neither roared nor cried out, nor uttered a sound, like a silent grim reaper, with extreme ferocity, it pounced directly, its bone claws carrying the sharpness of shattered mirrors, grabbing Wu Wei's chest, trying to tear his flesh, cut into his meridians, and slowly absorb his blood essence and origin, turning him into the miserable state of skin clinging to bones seen in the mirror.

The third attack was silent, lightning-fast, close-quarters, and soul-stealing—a truly desperate situation.

Wu Wei's consciousness paused for only a moment before the power of the Pivot's origin and the Yang Flame Blood Essence erupted simultaneously, forcibly suppressing his soul and breaking through the illusion within the curtain. However, the Bone Demon's bone claws were already at his chest, less than half an inch from his flesh. He had no time to dodge and could only tense his bone armor, channeling all his physical strength into his chest to withstand this fatal claw.

"clang--"

A piercing sound of metal clashing against metal exploded out as bone claws slammed into bone armor. Shards of the lens flew everywhere, leaving several deep marks on the surface of the bone armor. The force of the impact was so strong that Wu Wei was forced back several steps, his feet leaving deep footprints on the stone base. He could no longer suppress a mouthful of blood, which spurted out and landed on the black iron spear shaft, mingling with the black blood in a shocking sight.

This Shattered Mirror Bone Demon is far more powerful, more bizarre, and more resilient than the Stitched Eye Embroidery Demon or the Water Throat Swamp Demon.

Its body is pieced together from shattered mirrors and yin bones, making it impervious to blades and spears, and unburnt by flames. The mirrors themselves possess a soul-capturing illusion, and each attack carries a spiritual impact. The bone claws and shattered mirrors work together to form a unified offense and defense. Its yin and evil power is extremely stubborn. Even if struck by a spear, the shattered bones and mirrors can instantly reassemble, making it impossible to completely kill.

Wu Wei met the attack with his spear, unleashing the full power of his Twin Blades Rotation. He switched between long-range thrusts with one hand and close-range grappling with both, his spearhead shattering mirrors and his rear blade slicing bones with lightning speed and without the slightest hesitation. His Blazing Flame Spear shattered the flying mirrors, his Rainbow Spear cleaved away the soul-capturing illusions, and his Twin Dragons Sliced ​​the Moon shredded the attacking bone claws. But the Bone Demon's onslaught was like a relentless tide, shattering mirrors and self-destructing repeatedly, bones flying and reforming, illusions rising and falling to disturb his mind, and a chilling power constantly eroding him, making each step difficult.

With the toxins still lingering in his left arm, his blood and qi were churning, and his yang energy was being greatly depleted. In addition, his soul was constantly being attacked by illusions, and Wu Wei gradually fell into a disadvantageous position. His body was scratched in many places by the lens, and black blood seeped from the wounds. The evil toxins entered his body through the wounds and intertwined with the previous toxins, making his movements increasingly sluggish, and his spear thrusts gradually slowed down.

Seizing the opening, the Bone Demon used its bone claws, sharpened by the shattered mirror, to stab at his right wrist, the hand holding the gun, aiming to cripple it and end the battle.

Wu Wei's eyes turned cold. Without flinching, he stepped forward to meet the bone claws, his left hand gripping the back of the spear shaft. With both hands combined, he pushed the double-edged reincarnation technique to its limit. The power of bone marrow, Yang Flame Blood Essence, and physical bone essence were all poured into the spear tip. The gilded patterns burst forth with a strong light that illuminated the entire black swamp, and the power to burn away evil and destroy spirits reached its peak.

He no longer attacked the Bone Demon's body, but relied on his physical intuition to penetrate through layers of shattered mirrors and joints, directly piercing the slightly pulsating core deep within the Bone Demon's chest cavity—its only vital point, and also its most difficult core to reach.

"Twin Blades Reincarnation - Decisive Strike!"

A single spear pierces the chest, its sharpness unstoppable, its power invincible.

The Yang Flame burns away evil, the marrow essence condenses weapons, and the bone essence solidifies the edge. These three forces erupt in the evil core, completely shattering its evil origin and incinerating its regrouping power.

The Shattered Mirror Bone Spirit's body suddenly froze, its body, studded with shards of glass, trembled violently, and countless shards of glass and bone collapsed, never to be reassembled. Its demonic core was completely incinerated, leaving not even a trace of resentment behind. In the end, it turned into a sky full of ashes and dust, which were swept away by the black wind and fell into the black swamp, disappearing without a trace.

The three ferocious and malevolent spirits were all annihilated.

It's not an easy, swift kill, but a grueling struggle, injuries, desperate situations, and counterattacks, with a constant sense of pressure and terror throughout.

Wu Wei stood holding his spear, his body swaying slightly. He was covered in wounds, his clothes were tattered, black and red blood mingled together, his left arm was stiff and numb, his breathing was extremely disordered, his Yang Flame Blood Essence was almost exhausted, and the gilded patterns on his twin marrow weapons were dull and lifeless. Yet his eyes remained firm, without the slightest sign of retreat.

The malevolent mist in Black Wind Ridge had thinned slightly, but the darkness deep within the ancient tomb was still so thick it seemed capable of swallowing everything. The fragments deep within his bones resonated, almost boiling over, drawing him toward the half-open stone door.

The swamp surface was scorched by the scorching sun, leaving a dry path that led directly to the cracked stone gate of the ancient tomb. Inside the gate, it was pitch black and bottomless, with the aura of corpses, fragments of primordial energy, and even more ancient and ferocious malevolent energy intertwined and swirling, clearly indicating that there was an even deeper danger lurking within.

Wu Wei slowly raised his hand, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. The Yang Flame Blood Essence slowly circulated, repairing the injuries in his body and suppressing the residual toxins.

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, Shu's thoughts returned once more, still offering only a simple warning, without answers or explanations, leaving the unknown unresolved:

"Within the gate, there are even more ancient and sinister spirits."

Wu Wei remained silent, gripping his twin-edged marrow weapon tightly. His black iron boots crushed the shattered mirrors and withered bones on the ground, the sound faint yet exceptionally clear above the deathly silent black swamp.

He took a step and stepped onto the path leading to the ancient tomb, walking step by step into the boundless darkness.

The stone gate slowly closed behind him, completely severing the last ray of light, and darkness swallowed everything.

Only a tiny spark of sunlight emanated from the tip of the spear, shining steadfastly and never extinguished in the boundless darkness.

The road ahead is fraught with danger, fragments, and the truth of the world; it is the path he takes to defy fate with his gun and forge ahead relentlessly.

But deep within the ancient tomb, the true terror has only just begun to unfold.