Chapter 494

In Nanyue City, families and sect disciples connected to the Tianshu Pavilion had gathered, each wielding their own unique arts.

Those who could see this were not merely the emaciated old man alone.

Above the mine, miasma of corpses hung thick.

Within it, countless corpse beings were bred.

Though all present hailed from great powers and had seen much, beneath the towering corpse miasma, they all drew in a sharp breath.

The Dao Court had unified the realm; the demonic paths had gradually faded.

Where now could one see such heavy corpse miasma, or so many zombies?

For a moment, all were filled with dread.

"Audacious to the extreme!"

"Who is crafting corpses?"

"... How many people have they killed?"

"Disregarding the Dao Court, flouting Daoic law—how outrageous!"

"... Which Mo Sect's method is this?"

The crowd murmured among themselves, until finally someone said:

"What do we do?"

At this question, all fell silent.

One disciple said: "Evil demons stand before us—we cannot stand idle; we must destroy them!"

"There are too many..."

"We can't handle this..."

"Don't forget our true purpose—we're here not to meddle in others' affairs."

"How is this meddling?"

"Exterminating demons and defending the Dao is only right!"

"Hmph, hypocritical—putting on a show for whom?"

"You son of a—"

From within the inn rose voices of argument.

But it ended there—within the inn alone.

The entire Nanyue Inn had been rented out by this group of disciples, sealed with barriers to block sight and sound; only those of their kind could enter.

After prolonged debate, the emaciated old man, who had been using the Three Talents Change Coins for divination, suddenly frowned and asked slowly:

"Do you know where that man is?"

The crowd fell quiet for a moment, then all shook their heads.

The emaciated old man spoke again:

"He made us calculate to draw us here—but now that we've arrived, there's no trace of him, only this mine thick with corpse miasma. Do you think this is coincidence?"

"What are you suggesting?"

The emaciated old man said: "That man may have drawn us here solely for this corpse mountain."

The crowd exchanged glances, and someone else said:

"And then?"

"Did he feel pity and want us to help?"

"No—he's using us as laborers..."

"Or perhaps he's testing us? Whoever solves this problem, he'll meet."

"What are you thinking?"

"Our motives aren't pure... and he's no kindly old master handing out blessings."

"True... that man is arrogant, supremely gifted, and looks down on all—why would he be so bored as to play such a trivial game with us?"

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

The crowd exchanged glances, each harboring secret intentions, and none spoke.

In the end, they parted in bad temper, the matter left unresolved.

After returning to their rooms, the emaciated old man and his two companions set up a soundproof array and began a secret discussion.

The middle-aged disciple said: "The corpse miasma is too heavy—it will soon swell into a corpse tide. This Nanyue City is no place to stay."

The emaciated old man asked: "What are you suggesting?"

"What's there to suggest? Get out now—wait any longer, and you might get trapped in the corpse tide and not escape."

The middle-aged disciple's tone grew grim: "Even without a corpse tide, the one who can conceal such acts and craft so many zombies—how could such a disciple be easy to deal with?"

"Why should we wade into this mess for zero benefit?"

The emaciated old man remained silent.

The middle-aged disciple exclaimed in surprise: "You don't mean to stay, do you?"

The emaciated old man frowned tightly and gave a slight nod.

The middle-aged disciple grunted, then turned to the white-robed boy: "Young Master, what about you?"

The white-robed boy nodded and said:

"A corpse tide brings calamity and stains the land with death—I wish to stay and lend what little aid I can."

Such youthful fervor, such passionate words, made his head ache.

But if he left alone... without the old man's Three Talents Change Coins for divination, he'd be like a fly without a head, stumbling blindly.

The middle-aged cultivator felt reluctant and asked the elder:

"You really want to stay?"

The withered elder nodded, as if pondering something, his expression solemn; after a moment, he slowly said:

"I… have a premonition…"

The middle-aged cultivator froze. "What premonition?"

The withered elder took a deep breath, his gaze uncertain and alarmed:

"These past days, I've occasionally felt my heart race and my flesh tremble."

"It feels as if great terror lies ahead—extremely perilous, life and death uncertain."

"But if we can suppress the corpse mine and save this city, even this second-grade prefecture's cultivators, perhaps we'll forge a good connection; should we one day face a ninefold death, there may be a single thread of survival…"

The middle-aged cultivator frowned.

He felt nothing, so he believed nothing.

But he also knew: listening to advice fills the belly.

In this cultivation world, any cultivator who lives to old age cannot afford to ignore even the most ethereal premonition.

"Fine, I'll stay too—but I'm warning you, if things turn bad, I'm bolting."

The middle-aged cultivator said helplessly.

The withered elder nodded; the white-robed youth exhaled in relief and smiled faintly.

The next day, the inn grew quieter.

Some had searched Nan Yue City for traces of Mr. Zhuang, found none, and left to seek elsewhere.

Others, fearing the corpse tide would erupt and they couldn't remain unscathed, slipped away without notice.

But some remained.

Some, like the withered elder, had faintly sensed a thread of karmic mystery from the corpse mine.

Others, who sensed nothing at all, simply had upright natures and wished to eradicate zombies, to do something for the local cultivators.

The group discussed ways to suppress the corpse mine.

But within the corpse mine, zombies were countless, and dealing with them was extremely difficult.

"With just us cultivators, it won't work."

"We must write a letter, summon reinforcements from our clans or sects."

"It'll take time…"

"There's no choice—we can't charge in like fools, unprepared, just to die."

"We know nothing of the corpse mine's condition."

"How many iron zombies? How many walking corpses? Are there other special zombies? Who is refining them? Has any local cultivation force been involved?"

"No need to guess—there's definitely a local force behind it. Building a corpse mine requires immense manpower and Xi Wuli; without local support, it's impossible."

"The Lu family…"

"I think so too."

"Any proof?"

"Experience. Just look—you know."

"Strong dragons don't overpower local snakes—this is troublesome."

A young cultivator said arrogantly:

"Too bad this place is only a second-grade prefecture—the Dao's restrictions prevent Jin Dan from acting. Otherwise, I'd call my father—he'd sweep this mountain flat with one sword!"

"Alright, alright, we know your father's a Jin Dan…"

"Even if a Jin Dan came, one sword wouldn't sweep it flat…"

"Even if he did, these zombies couldn't be killed off in an instant; if they broke loose and invaded Nan Yue City, every cultivator in the city would become zombies—the problem would be worse."

"Young man, don't be so headstrong."

"Solving problems requires force—but force alone won't suffice…"

The young cultivator sat down sullenly.

"Then what do we do?" someone asked again.

After a moment of silence, someone said slowly: "The Dao Court?"

"Request Dao soldiers?"

"That's a possibility…"

"Who has connections to the Dao Soldier Bureau?"

"A few of my uncles serve in the Dao Soldier Bureau…"

An elder shook his head. "Don't bother. The Dao Court won't send Dao soldiers—even if they did, there wouldn't be many."

"The risk is too high. The cost too great."

"How so? Slaying demons and exterminating evil is the very principle of Dao law, the Dao Court's duty!"

"That's true…"

"Don't oversimplify things."

"All that manpower and Xi Wuli—can you just summon them on a whim?"

"Exactly. Counting all the graft along the chain from top to bottom, the actual cost may be even higher."

"You shouldn't say that…"

"The Dao Court has its own difficulties…"

"What difficulties? The difficulty of taking bribes and extorting?"

"Don't be so sarcastic…"

"You son of a—"

As they chatted, tempers flared.

"Enough, enough," a white-bearded elder of long standing and high seniority said slowly, "let's get to business."

The squabbling finally stopped.

After a brief silence in the room, someone spoke again:

"Why don't we jointly petition the Dao Court, lay out the stakes, blow this thing up, bring it into the open—the Dao Court can't just ignore it…"

The crowd nodded slightly.

Just then, the wizened old man in the seats suddenly stood up, Yi Shu copper coins pinched between his fingers, his face deathly pale.

The cultivators exchanged glances, somewhat puzzled.

The white-bearded elder frowned and asked, "Brother Wen, what happened?"

The wizened old man's expression was one of terror, his voice trembling:

"Just now, a sudden inspiration came over me, so I cast a hexagram with the Yi Shu copper coins…"

"The hexagram shows…"

"It shows… the mine, and the scene it will become."

The wizened old man thought of that scene, still shaken:

"The living and the dead mingled together, the boundary between life and death erased—the living looked like corpses, corpses like the living, and towering above them all was a Corpse King, its pupils a dark gold tinged with blood, obeying no man and no corpse…"

The white-bearded elder's face changed drastically at the words.

The other cultivators, however, were somewhat at a loss. "So what?"

"What it means is," the wizened old man said slowly, his face full of dread:

"This Corpse Mine has been refining a Corpse King. If it isn't suppressed and is left to run, within a hundred years it will brew into a heavenly calamity—that Corpse King will become… a Dao Abomination!"

"In other words, this Corpse Mine is actually nurturing a Dao Abomination!"

At these words, every cultivator present was struck to the bone with terror.

"A Dao Abomination!"

That was a term one only encountered in Daoist classics, signifying a catastrophe almost beyond the power of man to resist.

Even families and sects with a thousand years of foundation had records of being slaughtered by Dao Abominations…

Nurturing a Dao Abomination?

The white-bearded elder's voice could not help but tremble. "These words… are they true?"

The wizened old man's heart quaked. "The hexagram says so…"

He thought for a moment, then added, "As for a Dao Abomination, with my own ability, I couldn't have divined it…"

The implication was that someone had made him divine it—or rather, through his hexagram, was telling everyone…

Who that person was, everyone knew in their heart.

The white-bearded elder was silent for a moment, his expression grave, and said in a low, solemn voice:

"Submit this matter to the Celestial Pivot Pavilion, and ask the Pavilion Elders to divine it."

"At the same time, petition the Dao Court, and request Dao Soldiers be dispatched for support…"

"If this is truly the case—if a Dao Abomination is breeding within the Corpse Mine—then we must mobilize every cultivator we can, at any cost, to suppress the Corpse Mine, slay the Corpse King, and strangle this Dao Abomination in the cradle, leaving no future trouble!"

(End of Chapter)