Chapter Forty-Seven: The Skull Hammer!

“I’m going to die!” Tang Fei thought to himself.

His body was locked in place, making it almost impossible to move. There was no way he could withstand that hammer blow...

This fiend was too ruthless. He had clearly promised to spare them if they retreated, and now he was going back on his word? How could he break his promise like this?

What a pity for this pulse rifle... he hadn’t even fired a single shot.

“Big bro...” the chubby boy called out.

He sensed the danger too, but there was nothing he could do.

Boom...

The hammer swept through the space between their bodies.

Bang!

Tang Fei’s body was sent flying, smashed all the way to the entrance by that single blow.

The chubby boy was hurled as well, crashing hard against a stone wall before sliding down to the ground.

“Pfft!”

Tang Fei spat out a mouthful of blood once more.

He knew his internal organs were injured.

The energies of yin and yang surged inside him, working to regulate his breath and repair his viscera.

“Huh? I’m still alive?”

A wave of joy swept over Tang Fei.

That world-shattering hammer blow had actually been absorbed by his body? What was going on?

Thinking of his body, he suddenly remembered the chubby boy and called out, “Fatty... Fatty...”

“Bro...” The chubby boy had been hurled into the stone wall, then slid down and now crawled over to Tang Fei, anxiously asking, “Bro, are you alright? You’re coughing up blood again...”

Tang Fei was indignant.

He was clearly the stronger one, a cultivator at the level of controlling qi, yet he had been knocked down and couldn’t get up. Meanwhile, Fatty seemed perfectly fine?

“Bro, you’re not going to die, are you? Don’t scare me...”

“I’m fine,” Tang Fei replied, checking his own internal state before saying, “Help me up.”

Fatty helped Tang Fei to his feet. “Big bro, we’re not dead.”

“Yes, we’re still alive,” Tang Fei echoed.

He looked up—the enormous head had vanished, as though what they’d just witnessed was nothing but a phantom.

Even stranger, the chamber now glowed with a red light. The head had disappeared, but the two blood-red eyes seemed to remain behind.

“Bro, what’s going on? What was that monster just now?”

“He called himself the Fiend God... I’ve never heard of such an existence before.”

“Yeah. I only know the Flame God,” Fatty said. The Flame God’s cult operated right under their noses, and even someone as stone-headed as Fatty was familiar with them.

Tang Fei shook his head. “The Flame God is a false god. This Fiend God... he might be a true god.”

“A true god?” Fatty’s eyes widened. “Bro, do true gods really exist in this world?”

“I used to doubt it,” Tang Fei said, “but now I’m starting to believe. What we just saw... if that wasn’t a true god, it was at least an unimaginably powerful cultivator. Maybe he was already on the verge of becoming a god.”

“But big bro... he smashed at us with his hammer—how come we’re still alive?” Fatty wondered.

Tang Fei had already pieced it together. “Didn’t you notice? When we spoke to him, it was like talking past each other—each saying his own piece, never really connecting.”

“Yeah,” Fatty nodded. He had the same thought. The Fiend God had promised to let them go if they retreated, but before he finished speaking, he’d swung that hammer.

Shameless!

“That was only a remnant of his consciousness,” Tang Fei explained. “Before dying—or perhaps before leaving—he left behind a trace of his will to guard this cavern. When we entered, that will emerged to block us.”

“If that hammer blow had been real, we wouldn’t have stood a chance. We’d have been dead already. There was force in that strike, but no true energy... After all these years, the power remains, but the essence is gone...”

The thought sent chills down his spine.

Just the lingering force had left them both battered and helpless. If the true body still existed, would they even have a chance to live?

This tomb-robbing adventure felt more like searching for a home—one already inhabited by a monstrous host.

“Oh,” Fatty nodded honestly. “But I still don’t get it.”

“It’s like this: the man died, but his soul remained,” Tang Fei said.

Fatty finally understood, but became even more nervous. “If the soul’s still here, isn’t that a ghost?”

“You could call it a ghost,” Tang Fei said, “but not an ordinary one... Anyway, let’s not dwell on it. Come on, let’s take a look inside. Anyone who dares call himself the Fiend God must have a few divine artifacts, right? Otherwise, how could he face the other gods...”

You can’t enter the tomb of a god and come away empty-handed.

Tang Fei picked up his pulse rifle and hugged it to his chest. Just now, before he could even fire a shot, the Fiend God had knocked him flying.

A bit humiliating!

Fatty picked up his own rifle as well. He and Tang Fei had shared the same fate. Under the dim red glow, he checked it over and sighed in relief when he found it undamaged.

The cavern was vast, but everywhere were skulls.

Some were human, but most belonged to animals.

It seemed the Fiend God had been a collector of skulls...

No one knew how he preserved them—these skulls had lasted for centuries without decaying.

Tang Fei and Fatty were both unnerved. The Fiend God’s reputation was well-earned.

“Fiend God!” Fatty suddenly shouted toward the center of the hall.

Tang Fei raised his pulse rifle, ready to fire...

Whether it would work or not, he wanted to shoot first and ask questions later.

Earlier, they’d been frozen in place by the Fiend God without warning, utterly helpless. That feeling was unbearable.

But he stopped himself.

He sensed no trace of life from that figure—it was a corpse.

A leopard-headed face, round fierce eyes, iron-like features, a bristling beard.

The visage was savage, almost identical to the phantom head conjured by the remnant will.

The only difference was the eyes. Now the sockets were deep and empty, the blood-red gaze nowhere to be found.

This was indeed the Fiend God.

Tang Fei and Fatty approached, and before they even drew near, their blood surged and anger swelled in their hearts. It was as if a wild beast within was struggling to break free and go on a rampage.

Tang Fei recognized it as the darkness within—the stirring of inner malice.

The Fiend God could amplify the evil in one’s heart, turning people into bloodthirsty monsters.

But what shocked Tang Fei was that this was just a corpse...

Even in death, the malice radiating from the body could affect the living, even someone of Tang Fei’s strong will. How terrifying must the living Fiend God have been?

A new question arose.

If the Fiend God was so mighty, could even he die?

Was it only his body that died, or both body and spirit?

If he hadn’t perished, where had he gone?

Were there other worlds beyond this one, other dimensions?

For a moment, Tang Fei’s mind was in turmoil.

“Big bro...” Fatty called softly.

Tang Fei snapped out of it and looked at Fatty. “What is it?”

“You’ve been out of it for ages. I called you and you didn’t answer,” Fatty said. “Big bro, don’t do that, you’re scaring me.”

This place, as eerie as a realm of ghosts, would chill anyone’s heart.

And Fatty was timid to begin with.

“I was just thinking about some things,” Tang Fei replied.

He carefully studied the Fiend God’s appearance. “Who knows how long he’s been dead? Yet his body remains lifelike, as if he’s merely asleep... I wonder how he preserved himself.”

Fatty wasn’t concerned with preservation techniques or the state of the body. Instead, he pointed at the hammer in the corpse’s hand. “Bro, that hammer... it’s the same skull hammer he smashed at us with.”

Tang Fei saw it too. The hammer was unmistakable.

It was said to be forged from Kunlun cold iron, shaped like a skull, with cracks along its surface. When swung, it would emit a ghastly wail, chilling the soul.

The gaping jaws of the skull could trap an enemy’s weapon. It was known as the king of hammers, the most evil hammer in existence.

Tang Fei had read about it in a book called “The Compendium of Hundred Divine Artifacts,” but even the author doubted such a hammer existed outside of myth, and no great hero or general had ever wielded it.

People through the ages had sought it in vain, even the most illustrious figures.

It turned out it had been buried here with the Fiend God, countless centuries ago.

A legendary divine weapon. If he could obtain it, this expedition would not be in vain.

Tang Fei reached out and lifted the skull hammer. The moment his hand closed around it, his blood surged violently, killing intent flooded his mind.

His whole body burned with a fever, his face twisted and veins bulged on his forehead.

At that moment, his eyes turned blood red, as if two pools of blood swirled in their depths.

He looked possessed—like the Fiend God himself.

Bang!

Tang Fei immediately dropped the skull hammer and slumped to the ground, gasping for air.

His injured organs were wrenched again, a metallic taste flooded his throat, and he spat out another mouthful of blood.

The third time he’d coughed up blood since finding the tomb.

Tang Fei, true master of blood-spitting.

As if his mouth had started a monthly cycle...