I told you to plant peas, and you summon Mordekaiser?

The golden light was like a spear, carrying incomparably intense power, tearing through the air and piercing straight in.

"puff--"

The Clown King Zombie's body jolted violently.

Chen Yang and the other two were dumbfounded, their hearts almost stopping.

Chi Zigao froze, then took a step back abruptly, his voice trembling: "Wh...what's going on?!"

Huangfu Qinghe subconsciously looked in the direction from which the golden light had come, his face filled with shock: "What is he doing?"

The next instant, the figure of the monk zombie flashed behind the Clown King, grabbed the Clown King by the neck, and a bright golden light shone in his hand.

He was enveloped in a pale golden light, with holiness and brutality coexisting in the same body.

The Clown King Zombie looked down at his pierced chest, his lips twitched, and he managed to utter a few syllables with difficulty: "Why...why?"

The zombie monk's gaze was indifferent, and a chilling smile appeared on his lips: "This is a necessary choice."

Golden light extended from his other hand, binding the Clown King Zombie like chains.

In terms of absolute strength, the Clown King without the box is far inferior to this martial arts genius of the zombie world.

First, he was ambushed, and before he could muster any new strength, he was bound by the golden chains of the zombie monk, leaving him completely defenseless.

"Grass..."

A large mouthful of black blood spurted from the Clown King Zombie's mouth.

He struggled desperately, but his body was completely suppressed by the golden light and he could not move.

"A necessary choice?"

Seeing that he was powerless to break free, the Clown King Zombie spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

“The reason is simple,” the monk zombie said calmly. “I lied to you back then. The energy of this eighth-tier Titan Squash is not enough for me to advance to the ninth tier.”

His gaze fell on the Clown King Zombie, his naked calculations undisguised: "The energy of one Titan Squab is not enough. But an eighth-tier life form—is enough to fill this last gap."

The zombie monk spoke calmly, yet with a chilling resolve.

The Clown King Zombie spat out another mouthful of black blood, and blood flowed out of the large hole in its chest like a burst dam.

As an eighth-order life form, such a wound should have healed quickly, but under the restriction of the golden lock, his injury worsened instead of diminishing.

His lips twitched slightly, then he suddenly grinned: "So that's how it is... You had this planned all along, didn't you?"

The zombie monk smiled slightly: "Blame yourself for being too careless... After all these years in the zombie world, don't you understand the importance of always being on guard?"

"Without that box, even without a sneak attack, you're still no match for me."

He raised his hand, and the golden chains tightened suddenly. Countless tiny points of light escaped from the Clown King Zombie's body and were absorbed into the Monk Zombie's body.

The Clown King Zombie's body trembled slightly, its power was gradually draining away, and its face was turning ashen.

The Clown King Zombie's face was ashen, and his body trembled slightly due to energy loss, as if he might collapse at any moment.

Just then, a whooshing sound cut through the air from the fog.

A serrated short blade, gleaming with cold light, pierced straight at the zombie monk like a venomous snake on its hunt.

The zombie monk's eyes flashed, and he quickly retreated. Golden light enveloped his entire body in an instant, barely avoiding the fatal blow.

The blade grazed his shoulder, leaving a thin trail of blood, and warm droplets of blood splattered in the air.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, the Clown King Zombie suddenly struggled, and the golden chains snapped.

He staggered forward a step, his right hand precisely grasping the short blade, the sharp edge trembling slightly in his hand.

The box transformed into a short blade and hurtled through the air!

The clown's head inside the box seemed to understand that this was a crucial moment, and remained unusually quiet.

The zombie monk stood still, a hint of wariness showing between his brows. He readjusted his stance, his whole body surging with golden light, his fists concealing killing intent.

Amidst the billowing fog, the two faced off.

"As expected of the weapon made by that old bastard Edgar... It seems that dealing with you won't be so easy."

The Clown King Zombie's lips curled into a mocking smile, but his eyes were as cold as a wild beast: "You treacherous thing, this game has only just begun."

The zombie monk sneered, "Just a death throes."

Without any warning, the Clown King Zombie suddenly attacked, his short blade transforming into a cold gleam, aiming straight for the Monk Zombie's throat.

The zombie monk raised his hand to block, and the golden light collided with the short blade, producing a piercing metallic scraping sound.

The blade was blocked, but the Clown King Zombie took the opportunity to flip over and thrust out short blades like venomous snakes, each strike aimed straight for vital points.

The zombie monk retreated without panicking. His golden fists transformed into heavy hammers, colliding repeatedly with the short blades. The clash of fist and blade sparked intense flames.

The air was filled with a sharp killing intent, and the two men moved with lightning speed, almost impossible to catch.

The Clown King Zombie's short blade is swift and deadly, its strikes revealing a ferocious rage, each blow like a venting of his hatred, showing no mercy.

The monk zombie's fists and feet were shimmering with golden light, its attacks were sharp and its defense was impenetrable.

The short blade sliced ​​through the mist, only to be repeatedly deflected by the golden light. The monk zombie's fist retaliated, but was also narrowly avoided by the clown king zombie.

The two were like two serpents, probing and fighting each other in this desolate wasteland shrouded in thick fog.

The short blade was once again deflected by the golden light, and the aftershock dispersed the mist for a moment. The two separated by several steps, their eyes like knives, their killing intent burning in the air.

"You are at your last gasp."

The zombie monk spoke calmly, his expression serene, as if he were looking at a corpse.

The Clown King Zombie was panting heavily, but the sneer on his lips grew even more arrogant: "Monk, you think you have victory in your grasp, but you have always underestimated me."

The next instant, the two charged at each other again, their killing intent sweeping around like a storm.

The Clown King Zombie's figure became increasingly disheveled in the battle. The short blade in his hand was still as swift as lightning, and each strike was filled with ruthless killing intent, but his movements gradually became sluggish.

His injuries were consuming his strength.

Every time he swung his blade, he had to grit his teeth to suppress the tearing pain in his chest.

The cold glint of the short blades flashed in the mist, but the monk zombie fought with increasing ferocity, golden light flowing between its fists and feet like an inextinguishable flame, forcing the clown zombie to retreat step by step.

The Clown King Zombie's face grew paler and paler, and his gait became unsteady. He knew that his physical strength and energy were nearing their limits.

As he turned to dodge, the zombie monk's fist suddenly struck, hitting him squarely in the chest.

The powerful impact sent him flying, the short blade slipping from his hand and falling into the lake.

The zombie monk transformed into a golden light and instantly appeared behind him, striking down with an unparalleled force.

Golden light pierced through the Clown King Zombie's chest. He let out a low groan as his body was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily to the ground.

The Clown King Zombie spat out a mouthful of black liquid and struggled for a few moments before barely managing to get up.

His eyes still burned with an indomitable rage, but could not conceal his deep weakness.

The zombie monk slowly approached, his gaze sharp as a knife: "I told you, you can't win."