Chapter Three: Escaping Together

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Wujue had faced such circumstances before. Dalin Temple had teetered on the brink of destruction right before his eyes. To preserve their strength, the wisest course was an immediate retreat. Moreover, Huron’s experience had taught him that, to better resist the Celestial Execution Clan, Wujue needed to find a quiet place to train diligently and push beyond his limits.

But he knew, relying on himself alone, it would be impossible to confront so many enemies. Even as he searched for a way out, he considered how he might aid more people in escaping this doomed place. If he could find more allies, he could teach them the martial arts of Dalin Temple, and together they could stand against the enemy.

While pondering, his recent actions had already caught the monsters’ attention; those nearby lunged toward him. Wujue instantly unleashed his body techniques, dodging left and right, then channeled all his strength to perform the Mad Demon Palm of Dalin Temple with such ferocity that the wind howled with his movements. For a time, he forced the monsters back—some were even struck by the force of his palms, their skulls shattered, collapsing lifeless to the ground.

Wujue suddenly realized that sound alerted these monsters. If he wanted to avoid them, he needed to keep as quiet as possible. Just then, he spotted a ruined house not far away, with half a wall still standing—sufficient cover. In a flash, he grabbed a massive stone from the ground and hurled it with all his might, shattering it with a thunderous crash.

Using the loud noise as a distraction, he drew the monsters’ gaze away while he darted beneath the wall at his fastest speed. There, temporarily sheltered, he listened intently. Outside, the zombies still shuffled about in confusion, seemingly unaware of his presence. Wujue controlled his breathing, using the results of his years of arduous cultivation to conceal himself.

Huron’s experience had shown him that if one could maintain an extremely weak and steady breath, one could evade the monsters’ tracking. For now, he sensed no one pursuing him and breathed a slight sigh of relief, surveying his surroundings.

Suddenly, a horrifying scene unfolded before him—a fallen, wounded man slowly rose to his feet, his body twisted and oozing foul mucus, his eyes vacant and wandering. The man seemed blind, groping aimlessly, his terrifying expression making Wujue instinctively tense.

This was what happened to humans bitten by zombies—they mutated into monsters themselves. There would be more, many more of his kindred, turned into these dreadful creatures.

A complex feeling welled up in Wujue’s heart. He reached out, groping on the ground, hoping to find a stone or stick to strike the creature down. Yet the thought of killing his fellow man, even in this state, made him hesitate. All his life he had practiced Buddhism, cherishing compassion, seeking to deliver all beings—even when faced with the most wicked cultists, he had always held to salvation.

But what, in the end, had that brought him?

Memories welled up, and Wujue allowed himself a bitter smile. Dalin Temple was destroyed. The abbot was slain. The mercy of Buddhism had been repaid only with annihilation. Perhaps, in the end, only violence could bring about peace.

He gripped a cold steel bar, preparing to strike down the man who had turned into a monster. But suddenly, beneath some fallen stones ahead, someone stirred.

He saw, clear as day, a figure crawling out—a familiar face. The young man who had fallen into the ground with him before, the one who had saved his life. He was surprised that the youth had survived—though it was unfortunate he chose this moment to emerge.

The young man poked his head out, not yet aware of the danger outside. He immediately spotted Wujue sitting against the wall, his expression grave. About to call out in excitement, he saw Wujue gesture silently for him to keep quiet.

The young man was quick-witted. Sensing something was wrong, he shut his mouth and turned around—only to find a zombie had drawn near, startling him so much he flattened himself to the ground, hardly daring to breathe.

The zombie, hearing the noise, was about to pounce. Wujue seized the opportunity and hurled the steel bar, striking the zombie right in the throat. A torrent of foul, viscous fluid gushed forth, nearly drowning the young man.

Watching the zombie collapse, Wujue rushed over, pulled the youth up, and dragged him under the wall to hide.

Safe for the moment, the young man was still shaken. Staring at the unmoving corpse, he said in fear, “Where did all these zombies come from? This is terrifying—it’s truly the end of the world.”

Now, with Huron’s memories, Wujue could understand his words. Glancing outside, he whispered, “Shh, keep your voice down. Don’t alert the zombies. They can’t see us, but they can sense us by sound. If you hadn’t come out just now, that zombie wouldn’t have noticed me.”

The young man, visibly startled, had never imagined the apocalypse would befall him so suddenly. Peeking out, he saw zombies everywhere and had no idea how to escape.

“What should we do?” he asked, voicing the pressing question. Wujue frowned. “If we get the chance, we should try to escape. Can you drive?”

From Huron’s knowledge, he understood that the strange vehicles scattered about were known as cars, the transportation of this world—faster and stronger than any horse or chariot of his time. Perhaps their only hope lay in using one of these machines.

The young man grinned. “That’s no problem—don’t you know what I do for a living? I deliver packages. Of course I can drive.”

He peered out as well and quickly spotted a van leaning against a nearby wall. Its passengers and driver had apparently fled, leaving it behind.

Wujue and the young man exchanged a look of understanding. Wujue raised the steel bar. “I’ll cover you. Let’s give it a try.”

The young man flashed a mischievous grin. “I saved you last time; now it’s your turn to save me. My name’s Han—remember it.” With that, he dashed from behind the wall, sprinting towards the van with surprising speed and agility.

Wujue’s eyes lit up—he hadn’t expected the youth to be so nimble and explosive, an excellent candidate for martial arts. He followed, remaining alert to the monsters’ positions, advancing as stealthily as possible.

Even so, a dozen monsters closed in. Wujue moved swiftly, wielding the steel bar ahead of Han, smashing the monsters’ skulls in quick succession.

With Wujue’s protection, they finally reached the van. Han pulled the door open and exclaimed, “Good, the keys are still here—we don’t have to hotwire it. But we’ll have to push the van upright or it won’t move!”

Wujue handed him the steel bar. “You hide—I’ll do it.” Gripping the van with both hands, he summoned the power of his Diamond Palms and, with a roar, hauled the vehicle upright with a crash. Even Wujue could scarcely believe his own strength. This van weighed at least half again as much as the one he’d moved before, yet his power seemed to have grown—Huron’s gift had changed not only his mind, but transformed his very body as well.

Before he could dwell on this, Han tugged his sleeve. “Master, more monsters are coming!”

Wujue turned to see a horde of monsters converging rapidly. “Get in!” Without another word, he pulled Han into the van and slammed the doors shut.

Han scrambled to the driver’s seat, frantically starting the engine as Wujue used the steel bar to fend off the grasping arms reaching through the windows. With a few sharp blows, several decaying hands were severed and tossed aside.

At that moment, the engine roared to life. Han shouted, “Hold on!” and floored the pedal.

Two monsters leapt onto the hood, but were flung aside as the van surged forward. Han whooped, “Out of my way!” and sped off into the distance.

End of Chapter Three: Escape Together.