A faint numbness lingered in his ankle.
From that single exchange, Uchiha Xiuren had already reassessed the zombie's strength.
Based on what he had learned from Jiu Shu, an ordinary corpse would require decades to reach this level. Yet Ren Weiyong had only been buried for twenty years.
Which meant—
Something had forcibly accelerated his transformation.
But the real question was—
Could it be pushed even further?
After all, they didn't have twenty years to wait. The Main God Space wouldn't allow that kind of luxury.
By the time that much time passed, he would either have become strong enough to no longer need such methods…
Or—
He would already be dead in some mission world.
"…Looks like I'll have to capture that caster alive," Xiuren murmured quietly. "And learn how this acceleration works."
The thought had barely formed when the zombie roared again.
"ROAR!"
Its blood-red eyes locked onto him, abandoning Jiu Shu entirely as it lunged forward.
Xiuren's gaze sharpened, the tomoe in his eyes rotating slowly as he calculated and predicted every movement.
The room—
Was too small.
If he used large-scale Fire Release or Lightning Release, the zombie might die—or it might not.
But Jiu Shu and Wencai?
They would definitely die.
Not worth the risk.
Taijutsu—
Was the answer.
The moment the zombie reached him, Xiuren's body slipped aside like a phantom.
A blur.
Between his fingers, several specially crafted shuriken appeared, connected by nearly invisible steel wires.
With the Sharingan's perception and Uchiha precision, this kind of opponent—
Was the easiest to control.
"Jiu Shu. Wencai."
"Leave the room. I'll handle this."
Jiu Shu didn't hesitate. He grabbed Wencai and retreated to the courtyard.
Immediately, he began setting up an altar.
Inside, Xiuren's eyes narrowed.
The zombie lunged again—
But he shifted effortlessly, evading like a ghost.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Shuriken flew outward, embedding themselves into beams, pillars, and walls.
In an instant—
A web formed.
A steel-wire cage.
"ROAR!"
The zombie struggled violently, the wires trembling under immense force.
Yet—
They held.
Xiuren moved lightly, maintaining perfect distance.
These past few days had not been wasted.
He had learned the fundamentals:
Black dog blood suppresses evil.Glutinous rice burns corpse energy.Ink lines restrain the undead.
Even without those exact materials, the principle remained—
Yin and Yang oppose.
Step by step, he controlled the battlefield.
The Sharingan predicted every attack.
His movements were minimal, precise, almost effortless.
The wires constantly adjusted, shifting tension, restraining—
But not destroying.
This was a rare specimen.
Not something to waste.
Outside, Jiu Shu's altar took form.
A pure Daoist aura spread outward, pressing down on the corpse.
At the same time, the distant controlling force still lingered—
But it was becoming unstable.
Far outside Renjia Town—
The graveyard trembled.
"What's happening? Why is Ren Weiyong slowing down?"
"Lin Jiu shouldn't be capable of this…"
The straw effigy shook violently as the black energy surrounding it began to dissipate.
On its forehead, a faint golden pattern appeared.
"Damn it!"
The old man bit his fingertip, trying to reinforce the spell.
At that moment, two disciples arrived, carrying fresh grave soil.
"Master, we brought the soil—"
They froze.
The altar—
Was unstable.
"Lin Jiu is breaking my spell!" the old man snarled. "Quick—scatter the yin soil!"
They obeyed immediately, spreading the foul-smelling earth around the altar.
One disciple suddenly stiffened.
"…Master… someone's here."
The old man turned sharply.
The graveyard was silent.
Still.
"Don't imagine things! Focus!"
"Bring the black dog blood!"
A jar was opened.
Thick. Dark.
The old man dipped his fingers, drawing symbols across the effigy.
But none of them noticed—
Under an old locust tree—
Hidden in the shadows—
Uchiha Mo stood.
Silent.
Still.
His presence merged completely with the night. His breathing was almost nonexistent.
Through his Sharingan, he observed everything.
Two forces clashed within the effigy—a sinister control spell being suppressed by pure Daoist power.
"…Looks like Jiu Shu is holding."
Mo remained unmoving.
"…Then I'll wait."
"Let him exhaust himself."
The tomoe in his eyes rotated slowly, recording every movement, every symbol, every technique.
Xiuren wanted knowledge.
And now—
Mo would bring him a teacher.
"Hmph. Lin Jiu…"
"You think you can break my spell?"
The old man continued drawing with blood.
The effigy stabilized briefly as black energy gathered again.
"Master is incredible…" one disciple muttered.
"Of course—this is true inheritance…"
Then—
The golden pattern flared.
Violently.
The black energy collapsed again.
"Not good!"
The old man's expression twisted.
He bit his tongue and spat blood once more, barely stabilizing the effigy.
But the golden light did not fade.
Immediately, he pulled out a bone needle—
And drove it into the effigy's chest.
At that exact moment—
Back at the mortuary—
Ren Weiyong screamed.
A piercing, agonized shriek tore through the air as it struggled violently against the wires.
Its strength surged.
"A last struggle…" Xiuren murmured.
He adjusted the tension instantly, preventing the wires from snapping.
Outside, Jiu Shu sensed it.
His hand seals changed rapidly.
With the peachwood sword, he lifted a talisman, passed it through flame—
"Break!"
The talisman shot forward, blazing with golden light.
At the graveyard—
Crack!
The bone needle shattered instantly.
From the effigy's chest—
A beam of golden light burst forth—
Shooting straight toward the old man's forehead.