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

On top of the massive carcass of Titan Squash.

The monk used his fingertips to conjure golden blades, slicing at high speed.

The discarded melon flesh was piled up like a mountain, and the green juice emitted a strong aroma.

"It is indeed here."

He finally unearthed the core of Titan Squash, a crystal shimmering with green light, containing immense vitality and power.

The zombie monk stared at the core, a hint of excitement in his eyes, which quickly returned to calm.

He muttered to himself, "I just absorbed the Clown King's energy, and it hasn't been fully converted yet. I'll keep it for now."

Having said that, he put the core income in his sleeve.

As the thick fog rolled in, he looked around and frowned slightly.

The fog was even thicker than before, exuding an indescribable eeriness, as if countless hidden eyes were spying on him.

Although the zombie monk was uneasy, after a moment's consideration, he decided to stay in this space and first advance to the ninth rank.

After all, countless people outside are eyeing him covetously.

This thick fog is actually a rare place where he can safely break through his limitations.

The zombie monk sat cross-legged, his hands forming a mudra, and golden light slowly surged around him, isolating him from the surrounding mist.

The thick fog churned outside the golden light, yet it could never get any closer to him.

As he sat in meditation with his eyes closed, his senses gradually expanded as he tried to discern the anomalies hidden within the fog, but he only felt a vague sense of oppression, as if something was lurking in the shadows.

He took it as normal for this fog, adjusted his mind, and was about to refine the energy.

A blurry black shadow flashed past from the depths of the fog.

"You scum, hiding your head and tail, really think you can escape my eyes?"

His lips curled slightly upward, a confident sneer on his face.

The zombie monk did not move immediately, remaining surrounded by golden light, sitting upright like a god, outwardly calm, but secretly having already pinpointed the location of that figure.

Just as he was about to investigate, the mist surged outwards like a tide, enveloping his senses and becoming increasingly dense.

Suddenly, a hoarse whisper reached his ear, the voice like a torn bellows: "I drifted all the way to the bottom of the lake, and found no one there..."

The zombie monk suddenly raised his hand, and golden light gathered in his palm, instantly becoming as dazzling as the sun.

Without hesitation, he swung his fist in the direction from which the sound came. Golden light transformed into a giant palm shadow, bursting through the air and striking straight into the depths of the thick fog.

Wherever the palm shadow passed, the mist was forcibly torn apart, emitting a low, surging sound, as if a sleeping giant beast had been awakened.

But when the palm shadow passed through the thick fog, it only dispersed a void, and the fog slowly closed up behind the palm shadow like flowing water.

He narrowed his eyes, his gaze turning cold and sharp, a sense of unease rising within him.

Although this attack was not at full strength, it was enough to easily level a small mountain.

However, the opponent was able to easily dodge it.

This looks like a tricky guy. He thought to himself.

The mist churned silently, as if mocking his futile efforts, or as if countless unseen eyes were lurking within, watching his every move.

The zombie monk stood up straight, his feet sinking slightly, his center of gravity as steady as a rock. Golden light flowed slowly along his back, enveloping him even more completely.

Although he couldn't see the enemy clearly or sense any killing intent, he knew that the being hidden in the thick fog was no ordinary person.

The air grew even more stagnant, and the sounds coming from the thick fog were hoarse and indistinct, but at this moment they seemed to intertwine with his breathing, making his chest feel slightly stuffy.

His palm gently caressed the cuff of his sleeve, and golden light condensed into threads at his fingertips.

However, the voice rang out again.

This time, the sound no longer had a definite direction, but rather, like lake water, it seeped into his eardrums from all directions: "Seawater has flowed into my veins, monster, lurking between the waves..."

He remained calm and continued to circulate the golden light.

Were they the same humans from earlier?

No, they probably don't have the guts.

Is it the Great Steel-Toothed Flower? Or that Iron Armor? Or perhaps, some other being has entered this space?

The zombie monk secretly pondered in his heart.

The fog churned more violently, as if a giant, invisible hand was pushing it.

The golden light surrounding him remained stable, but one could faintly sense the pressure emanating from the thick fog gradually increasing, like a giant beast slowly approaching, yet always hidden from view.

The zombie monk's eyes narrowed, and he chuckled coldly in a low voice: "You bluffing fool, are you afraid to fight me head-on?"

The sound in the mist seemed to hear his mockery, becoming even more shrill, mixed with a rustling friction sound, blending with the frequency of the surging mist, gradually forming a kind of low, strange rhythm.

Thick fog rose like a tide, forming faint, indistinct shapes that flickered at the edge of his vision, seemingly real yet illusory.

The zombie monk remained motionless, like a rock, waiting for the real "prey" to appear in this eerie fog.

The increasingly thick fog compressed his vision, making it difficult even for his protective golden light to penetrate.

He grew increasingly uneasy. Could the ability to manipulate this mist be due to some unknown entity beneath the lake?

The next instant, that hoarse whisper rang in his ear, carrying a chill that seeped into his bones: "Do you want to know the cold of the deep sea..."

The zombie monk's pupils constricted sharply, his whole body trembled, and he instinctively raised his hand to unleash a golden light.

The energy surged like a thunderclap, spreading outwards from him.

The thick fog was instantly dispersed, turning into countless tiny ripples that surged in the air, but then quickly gathered again, as if it had never been broken.

His gaze was sharp as he quickly scanned his surroundings, but he saw nothing but the thick fog swirling silently.

"This is impossible!"

His voice was low, filled with barely suppressed shock and anger.

That voice... had silently and unexpectedly gotten very close to his ear.

The opponent's speed and stealth abilities were completely beyond his comprehension.

His heart pounded slightly, and he quickly adjusted his breathing, forcing himself to calm down, but the sense of crisis deep inside him coiled like a venomous snake, biting at his reason.

"Strength... is above mine." He was almost unwilling to admit it, but the facts were undeniable.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force, and his whole body shimmered with golden light, yet he could not dispel the oppressive feeling.

If the opponent were to launch an attack, they could probably break through his protective golden aura in an instant.

He calmed himself down and quickly thought of a way to escape.

Leaving here is the only option.

However, breaking through this space would take time, and what if the beings within this thick fog took the opportunity to strike? He couldn't be sure, nor did he dare to gamble.

The surrounding fog continued to churn and swirl.

The zombie monk made a decision, closed his eyes, and completely withdrew the protective golden light.

The fog obscured his vision, so he used his other senses to their fullest potential.

He secretly channeled his inner energy, and golden light condensed into a dazzling point in his palm.

He understood that since he couldn't escape, he only had one chance to strike against this opponent.

He was going to put all his strength into this one strike!

Footsteps suddenly came from the fog, slow and heavy, as if from another world.

The monk-zombie remained motionless, suppressing the subtle tremors within his heart.

The footsteps grew closer, seemingly right next to his ear, yet he couldn't see a trace of them.

Each step felt like a blow to his nerves, as dull as a war drumbeat, causing the oppressive atmosphere in the air to rise sharply.

In the unseen depths of the fog, those blurry shapes began to solidify, like countless intricate shadows churning. They had no specific outlines, but seemed to writhe and twist as if they were alive.

Wait... what's that sound? The zombie monk felt a chill run down his spine.

He closed his eyes and listened intently, making the most of his hearing.

He heard it, in this ethereal world, the sound of footsteps masking... the sound of waves?

Why is there a sound of tides?

The sound of the tides seemed to carve a sharp crack deep into his consciousness, seeping into his very bones.

The zombie monk frowned.

The next moment, the footsteps stopped, and the surging tide seemed to be paused.

Silence reigned all around, broken only by his breathing and the faint hum of the golden light dancing in the air.

In that moment of utter silence, a sharp shout suddenly erupted!

"Break through the fog!"