Chapter 480: The Study of the Dead

Chapter 481: The Study of the Dead

Mò Huà quietly slipped out of the Ten-Thousand-Corpse Altar.

Before leaving, he carefully checked everything again, making sure he hadn’t left any traces that Lù Chéngyún or Zhāng Quán could notice…

The little zombie lay properly in its coffin.

The big tiger was also well hidden in the hall.

The Ten-Thousand-Corpse Formation, the golden altar, the bronze coffin—none of them showed any signs of disturbance.

Only then did Mò Huà relax, concealing his form as he quietly left.

The next day, Mò Huà acted as if nothing had happened and followed behind Lù Chéngyún into the Ten-Thousand-Corpse Altar to finish up the formation nodes for the corpses’ restoration.

Once inside, Mò Huà observed carefully and noticed that Lù Chéngyún, as usual, hadn’t noticed anything, which secretly eased his mind.

As the head of the family, Lù Chéngyún was busy with mundane affairs, tangled in countless matters.

On top of that, he had to secretly maintain the Ten-Thousand-Corpse Formation, manage the progress of the formation, direct the corpse cultivators, and personally draw the Spiritual-Pivot Evil Formation.

Indeed, he was very busy.

Over the past few days, occupied with his own matters, he had largely stopped paying attention to Mò Huà.

It was as if Mò Huà no longer existed in his eyes.

Sometimes when Mò Huà spoke to him, he would daydream, indifferent.

On the surface, Mò Huà appeared slightly displeased at being neglected, but inwardly, he was secretly delighted.

He actually wished Lù Chéngyún didn’t care about him…

Apart from Lù Chéngyún, there was Zhāng Quán.

Zhāng Quán hated him.

But he was a formation blind, ignorant of formations, with weak Divine-Sense.

Very easy to fool.

Mò Huà could hide right beside him, and Zhāng Quán wouldn’t even notice.

As for formations, it was even easier—Mò Huà could draw the formations wrong, messy, completely chaotic, riddled with errors…

He could even draw an entirely different formation, and given Zhāng Quán’s level of formation “proficiency,” he might not even detect the difference.

Mò Huà shook his head slightly.

Sure enough, one must read more and learn cultivation knowledge.

Otherwise, people would play him for a fool without him even knowing…

Not being discovered, Mò Huà felt reassured.

Over the next few days, he focused his attention on the corpse cultivators in the corpse mine.

He wanted to know exactly what kind of corpse was sealed in the bronze coffin.

But he was an outsider, lacking sufficient knowledge of corpse refinement, making it difficult to judge.

He could only start with the “insiders.”

These corpse cultivators were clearly “insiders.”

Mò Huà employed a small scheme, stealing a few corpse refinement manuals from several of them.

For example: Basic Corpse Refinement Method, Corpse Blood Technique, Detailed Corpse Refinement, Overview of Corpse Refinement, Heavenly Work on Opening Corpses, Origins of the Corpse Gate, On Types of Corpses…

They came in all sorts of categories—techniques, overviews, miscellaneous discussions, historical records, anecdotes…

Mò Huà’s eyes widened.

Just corpse refinement, yet these corpse cultivators had researched so many methods.

The cultivation world was indeed vast and complicated.

Whenever he had free time, Mò Huà began reading these corpse cultivation books.

But after just a few days, he began feeling uneasy physically and mentally.

The books were gruesome and sinister, with accompanying illustrations that were cruel and ugly, enough to make one nauseous.

Mò Huà felt helpless.

“Refining corpses is really not for normal people…”

“Which ordinary cultivator would be interested in corpse refinement?”

He shook his head.

But he had no choice but to endure the nausea and continue reading.

Even after reading extensively, he still understood only fragments; much remained confusing, many parts unclear.

“Seems I have no talent for corpse refinement…”

Mò Huà was calm but also somewhat relieved.

He skimmed through the books to get the gist, then stopped forcing himself and noted down his questions, planning to consult a corpse cultivator later.

This corpse cultivator should be honest, obedient, and somewhat slow-witted.

Otherwise, it would be hard to get information from them.

After a few days of observing the corpse cultivators in the mine, Mò Huà suddenly recognized someone familiar.

A young Lù family disciple with a somewhat harsh expression: Lù Míng.

Mò Huà’s expression shifted slightly.

Lù Míng…

Was the same one who, at the beginning when tracking the five missing miners, entered the Lù family mine, guided Mò Huà, witnessed the gruesome corpses, vomited violently, and was “intimidated” by Mò Huà into revealing some Lù family secrets.

Lù Míng no longer had that arrogant demeanor.

His complexion, like other corpse cultivators, was pale as paper, expression desolate, with no vitality. He barely spoke and obeyed all orders, like a living corpse.

Mò Huà observed Lù Míng for several days.

He seemed to have arrived not long ago, a newcomer, a lower-level corpse cultivator.

Daily he studied corpse refinement, performed menial tasks, and followed orders.

At night, he “lay like a corpse” on his bed, expression blank, lost in thought.

Lù Míng was easy to question.

Mò Huà had asked him several questions before.

After nightfall, Mò Huà stealthily entered Lù Míng’s stone room and quietly watched him.

The stone room was quiet, no one around.

Lù Míng lay on the bed, expression numb, suddenly twisting in agony, clutching his head, mumbling:

“…Why am I so unlucky?”

“It’s corpse refinement… I’m doomed…”

“I’ll never marry in this life…”

…

After venting his frustration for a while, he pounded the wall, complaining:

“It’s that little brat’s fault!”

“It’s all his fault!”

“His fault…”

“What’s my fault?” Mò Huà asked aloud.

In the silent stone room, the voice suddenly rang out, eerie and youthful.

Lù Míng was terrified.

He quickly flailed a few times, scrambled upright, and saw a small figure gradually taking shape on the chair by the wall.

“Ah—”

Lù Míng began to scream, then hastily covered his mouth with both hands.

His scream abruptly stopped, unnoticed by the other corpse cultivators.

Mò Huà picked up the teapot on the table, poured himself a cup, sniffed it, and found that although it was low-quality tea, it had no trace of blood or stench. He took a sip, pursed his lips, and asked Lù Míng:

“What’s my fault?”

The voice was crisp and familiar.

Lù Míng, finally calming, focused and recognized Mò Huà, slowly exhaling in relief.

It was a human, a “familiar,” not a ghost or corpse.

Leaning against the wall, Lù Míng took a few deep breaths.

Seeing Mò Huà, he felt surprised but not entirely unexpected.

He had seen Mò Huà in the corpse mine before.

Any skilled formation master would be courted by the Lù family.

Mò Huà was no exception.

Yet he hadn’t expected Mò Huà’s status to be so high, able to enter the corpse mine without refining corpses, treated exceptionally, even conversing with the Lù family head.

Even many elders of the Lù family didn’t receive such treatment.

The only mystery was why Mò Huà could enter his room without anyone noticing.

Lù Míng wanted to ask but dared not.

Being favored by the family head, even if young, he had no right as a former lowly Lù family disciple and current low-level corpse cultivator to question him.

Mò Huà asked, and Lù Míng could only answer.

After hesitating, Lù Míng muttered:

“If it weren’t for you… I wouldn’t have… been sent here…”

Mò Huà sipped his tea, nodded, understanding.

Back in the mine, Lù Míng had revealed some Lù family matters to him.

Although he later reported it to the family head, it was still considered a lapse, and he was punished by being sent to the corpse mine as a corpse cultivator.

Lù Míng wasn’t particularly bad, but not very capable either.

He likely couldn’t accept corpse refinement, yet had no choice but to endure it.

Hence, his daily expression was numb, like a walking corpse, only venting when alone at night.

Mò Huà pondered, then asked suddenly:

“How’s your corpse refinement going?”

Lù Míng was startled, unsure why, but reluctantly replied:

“Average…”

“You’ve refined corpses?”

“Not yet… just learning some knowledge from other corpse cultivators…”

Mò Huà’s eyes brightened slightly. “How’s your learning?”

“Okay…”

Lù Míng hesitated.

Mò Huà took out a small slip of paper, cleared his throat, and said earnestly:

“I’ll test you.”

Lù Míng was confused. “Why?”

Mò Huà frowned. “I’m testing you to see if you have ambition. If you learn well, I’ll speak up for you to the family head, so you might get promoted in the future.”

Mò Huà was bluffing.

Lù Míng, still bewildered, asked again:

“Why?”

Mò Huà clicked his tongue. “We’ve known each other. You came to the mine because of me and became a corpse cultivator…”

“I didn’t know at first, but now that I do, naturally I want to give you some benefit to make up for it.”

“Oh…”

Lù Míng found it somewhat reasonable, though still puzzling.

A random acquaintance speaking up for him for no reason?

He wanted to ask “why” again but didn’t, interrupted by Mò Huà.

Mò Huà, stern-faced, commanded:

“You answer when I ask, no unnecessary chatter!”

Intimidated, Lù Míng nodded reluctantly.

Mò Huà then read from the slip of paper.

The slip contained corpse refinement knowledge he hadn’t fully grasped, such as:

“How are zombies classified?”

“What’s the relation between rank and grade?”

“What types of zombies exist, and what are their abilities?”

Etc…

Lù Míng, clueless, answered obediently:

“Zombies are divided by rank and grade.”

“‘Rank’ is first, second, third, fourth, like a cultivator’s Qi-Refining, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core…”

“‘Grade’ is the zombie’s tier: Gold, Silver, Copper, Iron, and the lowest-level walking corpse…”

“Rank and grade are distinct but connected.”

“Like beasts and other categories, a zombie’s power is based on rank.”

“First-rank walking corpses, second-rank walking corpses… each corresponds to the early stage of their respective major realms.”

“Above walking corpses are Iron Corpses; each grade increase brings qualitative change in abilities.”

“Stronger body, more potent corpse poison, and some special corpse techniques…”

Mò Huà was still somewhat confused, so he said seriously:

“Give an example to explain the relation between rank and grade.”

Lù Míng, like being tested in class, tensed, thought for a long while, then said:

“Zombie rank is based on rank as foundation, grade determines tier…”

“A first-rank zombie generally has only two grades: walking corpse and Iron Corpse…”

“A first-rank walking corpse is an ordinary Qi-Refining zombie.”

“A first-rank Iron Corpse, based on cultivation, should be peak Qi-Refining, but its bronze head and iron arms can match some early Foundation Establishment cultivators.”

“Second-rank zombies, the lowest still walking corpses; generally refined into Iron Corpses, highest could become Copper Corpses…”

“A second-rank walking corpse is comparable to a first-rank Iron Corpse, though due to rotting flesh, may be at a disadvantage in combat.”

“A second-rank Iron Corpse is very strong, like mid-stage Foundation Establishment, capable of sweeping early-stage first-rank Iron Corpses.”

“And a second-rank Copper Corpse, with dense corpse energy and body like bronze and iron, is like late-stage Foundation Establishment, extremely powerful.”

Mò Huà realized.

He had thought all Iron Corpses were equal, each with Foundation Establishment power.

But Iron Corpses also had ranks.

First-rank Iron Corpses only match Foundation Establishment.

Second-rank Iron Corpses are mid-stage Foundation Establishment, stronger than early-stage cultivators.

So the Iron Corpses in the mine couldn’t be generalized.

The two tall Iron Corpses guarding the gate were probably second-rank.

The rest were mixed first- and second-rank.

The overall strength of Lù Chéngyún’s zombies was far greater than Mò Huà had imagined…

Mò Huà frowned.

He looked at Lù Míng and said, “Continue.”

Lù Míng nodded. “Then there’s third-rank, but none of us can refine them, so records are sparse…”

“Third-rank zombies: lowest is walking corpse, highest can be Gold Corpses.”

“Above fourth-rank, lowest walking corpses might even be capable of becoming true flying zombies…”

…

Lù Míng carefully explained everything to Mò Huà.

Mò Huà roughly understood.

All zombies are based on rank.

Refined zombies’ lower limit is always walking corpse, but upper limit varies.

Higher the rank, higher the potential grade.

First-rank maximum is Iron Corpse, second-rank maximum is Copper Corpse, third-rank maximum is Gold Corpse…

The corpse refinement methods in the mine came from the Zhāng family, handed down for hundreds of years; though there were some variations, they shouldn’t differ much.

So what kind of corpse was in the bronze coffin?

A Copper Corpse comparable to late-stage Foundation Establishment?

Mid-stage might be fine, but late-stage—if such a powerful zombie was refined, Lù Chéngyún wouldn’t be able to control it.

This didn’t match Mò Huà’s previous speculation.

“Are there special zombies?” Mò Huà asked again.

He remembered that Origins of the Corpse Gate and On Types of Corpses mentioned special zombies, classified by rank but not fitting normal grade tiers.

“There are.”

Lù Míng nodded seriously:

“Some special zombies have unique functions, not ranked by strength, so they aren’t classified as Gold, Silver, Copper, or Iron.”

“For example, puppet corpses—flesh-and-blood puppets, not human, not zombies, more like wooden or stone dolls.”

“Then there are ‘human effigy corpses’…”

“People refined into human effigies, retaining appearance, skin, body shape, soaked in spiritual water from herbs, without decay; skin cold but tender as if alive.”

“Many cultivators pay a lot for these.”

“And ‘burial corpses’…”

“Killed people, refined into zombie-like terracotta figurines.”

“Used mainly for burial purposes.”

“Not only the demonic path, but previously, the righteous sects also used them.”

“Thousands of years ago, heads or senior elders of major righteous families, after death, would have close disciples ‘offered’ for refinement into burial corpses.”

“However, this was inhumane, and over the past ten thousand years, the Dao Court gradually abolished it…”

…

Mò Huà frowned.

Human-puppet corpses?

Burial corpses? (TN: A funerary figure corpse used for burial accompaniment)

If cultivators went perverse, they could truly be twisted…