Chapter 29: Immortal Burial Town
At the eastern edge of Immortal Burial Town, the two-hundred-meter-wide Sui River plunged into a spectacular cliffside waterfall, resembling a dragon’s severed head, thus named “Dragon-Slaying Pass.”
The Jiuli tribe retrieved alien coffins from the Blood Sea Dock, carrying them through two hundred miles of perilous Departed Spirit Fog to ascend a narrow path to Dragon-Slaying Pass. There, they boarded prepared giant ships to transport the coffins to downstream tribes and cities.
Shi Jiuzhai entered the town, and the gray mist enveloping us dispersed.
“Thud! Thud!”
Gao Huan and I hit the ground.
…
“Welcome, Master!”
Xing Wanxing, Fang Tong, and Yan Qingqing, three martial experts of the Earth Wolf King Army, hurried forward, bowing to Shi Jiuzhai.
They led over a thousand soldiers, arriving a day earlier, and had slaughtered the two hundred Jiuli tribesmen left in the town for reception, meals, supplies, and docking. The corpses were piled into a bloody hill in the town center.
Xing Wanxing, Shi Jiuzhai’s tenth disciple and a financial manager, short and potbellied, reported with a smile: “We’ve interrogated thoroughly. This coffin retrieval is led by the Cangli tribe, one of the Jiuli. Their leader is Li Songlin, their top expert this cycle, accompanied by Cangli, the tribe’s greatest prodigy in a millennium.”
“I only care about how much we’ll earn,” Shi Jiuzhai said.
Xing Wanxing, well-prepared, replied, “Li Songlin brought five thousand men, retrieving at least a thousand coffins. Seizing them all, we’d conservatively make a million Yongquan coins.”
“They say alien coffins are exorbitantly priced, treasures for great cultivators. Truly invaluable,” Shi Jiuzhai said, pleased.
Xing Wanxing grinned, “A rare coffin could fetch a million Yongquan coins alone, equivalent to a hundred million silver coins.”
“Also, in the Jiuli, only future chiefs take the tribe’s name. If we capture Cangli, the tribe will pay another million to ransom him.”
Shi Jiuzhai’s mood lifted— this long journey was worth it!
Yan Qingqing, in her late twenties, curvaceous with a flirtatious gaze, a canine-like mutant with furry ears and a red tail trailing from her skirt, cooed, “Master, our main goal isn’t money.”
“Who says it’s not for money? I’m here for money.”
A hundred million silver coins would tempt even the lords of million-strong sects like Longmen or Zuoqiu.
Sustaining a vast army required funds.
…
After Shi Jiuzhai dropped us, I stood, scanning the surroundings.
Brown-robed, armed men surrounded us, with a few towering beast-human hybrids, menacing but eyeing us with doubt or awe.
I had an idea, adopting a haughty demeanor, beckoning a timid-looking man: “Yes, you— come here!”
Gao Huan, not understanding my words, felt my tone and attitude were too arrogant, his heart pounding.
The timid man approached, forcing a smile, more nervous than Gao Huan.
Pointing at Shi Jiuzhai, I asked, “Know who we are?”
“I know, I know,” he stammered.
“Then say it.”
He didn’t know us— the army was hastily assembled, traveling a thousand miles, arriving yesterday.
Not truly timid, he feared Shi Jiuzhai and, by extension, us.
Admitting ignorance, he said, “We arrived yesterday, cleaned and set up all night, no time to rest. Forgive my poor sight— I don’t know your identities. But traveling with the Ninth Fasting King, you must be extraordinary.”
I exhaled quietly, patting his chest: “Good to know. We’re the Ninth Fasting King’s close aides. Got food?”
“Yes, yes…”
He hurried to fetch it.
I pulled Gao Huan along.
I didn’t want to linger under Shi Jiuzhai’s nose— we’d be exposed.
Fortunately, Shi Jiuzhai was meeting a secret guest, discussing coffin seizures, ignoring us “wolf cubs.”
The guest, in a silver robe and white coat, wore a black Buddha-head mask. His tall, refined figure and delicate hands holding a flute suggested youth.
Yet, facing the fearsome Shi Jiuzhai, he stood hands behind back, unafraid, even proud: “The sect leader wants not just the coffins but a total massacre. Only blood will spark chaos in Leizhou.”
Shi Jiuzhai, focused on profit, frowned: “You million-sect nobles are crueler than us thieves. You didn’t mention total slaughter before— including Li Songlin and five thousand tribesmen…”
The masked guest laughed, “Scared? Afraid of the old monsters of Jiuli Mountain and City?”
Shi Jiuzhai shook his head: “Robbing coffins has one price, killing another. Pay more!”
…
Led by the timid man, Gao Huan and I ate heartily at the army’s makeshift kitchen, fully restored.
Gao Huan stuffed food for escape, whispering, “Passing the town center, blood rivers and corpse hills— terrifying! These aren’t Buddhists. We need to bolt.”
I said, “Their monk-like robes are new, recently made. They recognized us as their own because of them.”
“If I’m right, the three eaten by the Thousand-Headed Dragon Vine were likely their scouts.”
“Though they call themselves the Earth Wolf King Army, their discipline’s lax, full of ferocity, strength uneven— not a proper army.”
“Also, I observed— this abandoned town’s exits are sealed. Escaping unnoticed is tough. If caught, our bluff’s gone.”
Gao Huan marveled, “I was only thinking of food on the way, and you noticed all this.”
“There’s more.”
I continued, “They’re hiding here to ambush the coffin procession. On the slope, I calculated their speed— they’ll reach here in two hours.”
Gao Huan said, “Got it! In two hours, when the fighting starts, we escape.”
“Exactly.”
I added, “But one thing puzzles me. How do so many hide here? The procession likely has experts with keen senses.”
Shi Jiuzhai reached the corpse hill, forming a seal, exhaling gray mist over it. A near-transparent pearl flew from him, hovering above.
“Boom!”
His palm struck the ground.
Fiery mana surged underground, igniting a ten-meter radius, heat flooding the streets.
Blood vapor from the corpses rose, red mist rushing to the pearl.
Absorbing it, the pearl emitted translucent scriptures, soon enveloping the town.
“Order: when half the Cangli tribe ascends, strike. Cut the procession in two. Kill all, leave none,” Shi Jiuzhai commanded coldly, aura daunting.
The kitchen wasn’t far from the center. Hearing this, my face darkened.
The timid man wasn’t timid— he feared Shi Jiuzhai’s power and ruthlessness, extending to us.
“Kill all, no survivors. How many will die?”
Gao Huan, dismayed, said, “I suddenly feel survival’s brutal everywhere. Be a toiling beast or slaughtered sheep. Only rising above is true living.”
…
Two hours later.
The Cangli tribe’s lead reached the waterfall’s base.
Water roared, air damp.
A barefoot girl, beautiful as a night-mist elf, led the procession, holding a glowing blue copper lamp. Nine silver bracelets adorned her wrist.
Her jade-like skin ignored the rocky ground.
Each silent step spanned a meter, blue mist trailing her feet.
She was the Cangli tribe’s “Underworld Lamp Guide,” Li Ling, a priestess’s heir, using the lamp’s light to navigate the Departed Spirit Fog, leading her people to and from the Blood Sea Dock.