Chapter Twenty-Six: Panic

Lu Yazhu gnawed on her thumb, pacing back and forth anxiously, muttering unconsciously, “How could it be… Impossible… I died in my last life…”

She remembered vividly that at this very time in her previous life, a sensational murder had occurred in Salt City. The notorious bandit Liu Beard had escaped into the territory of Marshal Mu, and while evading capture, he took refuge in Qianyun Temple and slaughtered more than three hundred people there—none survived.

Because Salt City was her hometown, Lu Shibang paid particular attention to the case, discussing it at home for several days. It was rumored that the tragedy happened because Marshal Mu’s only son, Mu Fusheng, had disagreed with Commander Mu Chengyao, giving Liu Beard the chance to slip through their fingers. Yet the massacre at Qianyun Temple was blamed solely on Mu Chengyao, which became the fuse for the later Salt City military uprising.

Her own past was already stained with the blood-red sea, which had been seized by the Buddhist order and refined into the Karma Fire Red Lotus, now wielded by the Venerable Sun Buddha. To lay down the Blood Sea Formation now, she would have to use her own Blood God Child.

As soon as she spoke, three streams of light flashed through the void, materializing into three elderly men in ancient attire.

Seeing his own attributes, Su Yan was a little surprised. Apparently, the “Body Improvement Pill” had worked wonders, boosting all his stats significantly. For someone like Su Yan—a couch potato with poor stamina—to reach an excellent level was no easy feat.

Only now did he realize that the faint fragrance came from Zhao Qian, his teammate with whom he’d partnered all day.

The two had been living on the milk of the Desolate Heavenly Emperor’s beast, and recently had added demon beast meat to their diet. Though they hadn’t slept all night, neither felt especially tired.

There were no unnecessary words, only the character for “battle” to say it all, followed by a date—ten years in the future. No other information.

The Sage of Jade Purity cast a cold glance toward Cloudrise Island, then closed his eyes and fell silent. Now he understood: the incarnations of the Twelve Ancestral Witches were complete. How could Ximen Qin not know how to manifest the True Form of Pangu?

“Congratulations, Host. You have drawn an SSS-rank skin: Roy Mustang!” As Mo Yan’s voice faded, the system’s notifications sounded one after another, announcing the results of the draw.

It was as if a furious beast, long imprisoned, was about to burst free from underground and devour everyone present.

“Enough. Don’t be so tense and despairing. There’s still a sliver of hope!” It was Kaguya who spoke up first.

Governor Zhuang swallowed hard and forced a bitter smile. He knew he’d asked a redundant question. By this point, their grudge with the Wei army had become a fight to the death.

I rolled my eyes and let my whole weight lean on Iron Gall. Mad Mao and Ma Xin looked a bit awkward, but obediently led the way ahead to scout.

Sima Jinghong’s golden silhouette passed before his eyes, giving him one last chance to speak his true name, but Qin Si still chose to remain silent.

As the black dot approached, they could see it was a tattered, maimed demon puppet. In its hand, it clutched eight dragon hearts.

I looked in the direction she pointed. Apart from noticing the sky had darkened, I saw nothing unusual. Perplexed, I hurried toward the bow of the boat.

If Mu Qingge hadn’t stirred the restlessness within him, how could he be so impatient to seek Bai Xiyue for relief?

Bai Zhi sat in the back without a word, lightly biting her lip and clutching her bag on her knees. The sadness in her heart was indescribable, as if two lovers had been cruelly torn apart.

“Thank you, Fang Yi.” Jian Man voiced her gratitude. She didn’t know why, but she always felt Fang Yi was someone she could trust, which was why she suddenly called him.

Lu Xuan was the heir to the Marquis’s household, so etiquette was important. Jian Wei and Gu Jing also needed to come out to meet the guest.

This time, without the benefit of a bed to cushion the fall, the dark figure was flung against the wall like a patch and, due to poor control, slid down slowly and fainted on the floor.

Ye Qingcheng nodded and, escorted by the warden, entered the cell where Beiming Xie was being held.