The old willow spirit’s true cultivation level was a peak peerless immortal. It would enter the next stage of immortality if it could pluck a dao fruit. Although it’d sealed its cultivation to peak august immortal level, limiting its power, it could still kill countless golden immortals in the blink of an eye.
Yuchi Hanxing, the strongest among the Dusk Phalanx, was but a true immortal, and the million heavenly soldiers were merely cultivators!
However, the Heavenly Formation of the Black Tortoise that was created by the million insects had not only crushed the willow’s branches, but also thoroughly cowed the countless monsters in the Skandha Range.
The man in golden armor and his companion traded looks of shock.
“It seems that the nine courts have more power than we expected,” muttered the man in gold. “It’ll take some time to return our kind to glory.”
……
The once-again-reconstructed governor manor.
“Wow, so the battle’s already begun. Yuchi Hanxing really isn’t one to waste time.” Lu Yun stood in the Mooncatcher Tower and cast his gaze northward. An epic battle was being fought there between the Dusk Phalanx and the cultivators of the Skandha Range.
He’d planned to deal with the faction ever since Qing Han reminded him to be careful. After all, it wasn’t his style to wait until his enemy attacked.
The Dusk Phalanx wasn’t only an army of a million cultivators, but representatives of Nephrite’s will. If they couldn’t even deal with the Skandha Range, then they shouldn’t be given the job to defend Dusk Province.
Their leader seems to be a giant willow tree. If I move it here, maybe I’ll be able to replicate the layout of my sect. Plans to rebuild his sect were never far from Lu Yun’s mind.
In recent days, apart from reconstructing the manor and cultivating, he’d been compiling information, transcribing the texts of his sect from memory, and adding in what he’d seen since arriving in this world.
This was how the teachings of his sect were passed down and improved upon. Their texts recorded what all commandants of tomb raiders had seen and heard over the past thousand years.
Lu Yun fleshed out entries such as bloodcorpses, zombie kings, immortal ghosts, and Ninefilia Specter Fostering; he also added new ones about the zombies that could turn people into zombies, ways to deal with undead hags, and other entries like tombs for the living, corpse coffins, the layout of certain death, and blood dragons.
All of this knowledge was priceless beyond compare.
What was most valuable to him wasn’t material things such as treasure, weapons, or pills, but knowledge and experience. When the various Nephrite factions vied over the heritage of the ancient lord, they too were fighting for knowledge, whether they realized it or not.
What Lu Yun gained from his Envoys of Samsara was also their knowledge. Only with knowledge would he be able to create treasures tailored for himself, and other material things.
“Milord, milord!” Ge Long rushed through the door, interrupting Lu Yun’s musings. “Sir Qing Han is here!”
“What?” The governor blinked, unable to decipher what he’d just heard.
“Sir Qing Han is here!” repeated Ge Long, but there was something unusual about his tone.
“Well, tell him to come in… wait, I’ll go get him myself.” With a flash of violet sword energy, Lu Yun disappeared from the Mooncatcher Tower.
“Qing Han… whoa, when did you get a makeover?” He marveled at the good-looking fellow before him.
As usual, Qing Han wore a black robe with a foldable fan in his hand, but his face had gone through a transformation. His previously coal-black skin was now as fair as jade and looked supple and healthy. The centipede-like scar crawling over his face had disappeared. In fact, one would have to be blind to call him ugly now. This was an honest-to-goodness dapper and handsome gentleman.
Dapper and handsome? Why would I think that about him? Lu Yun felt like he was floundering.
Qing Han smiled bashfully at Lu Yun’s gaping expression. “Thanks to the treasure you gifted me, I’ve been cured of my ailment. That’s why my appearance recovered.”
Lu Yun’s eyes lit up. “You’re alright now?”
“Mostly.” The imperial envoy beamed.
“The reselection is four months away,” Lu Yun said curiously. “Why are you here so early?”
Qing Han pouted. “What? You don’t want me here?”
“Hahaha nonsense. You’re welcome. You’re so very welcome!” Lu Yun laughed heartily and led Qing Han into the manor with an arm around his shoulder.
“Factions in Nephrite Major and all over the world have gotten wind of your secret weapon,” his friend said, expression turning serious. “I’m afraid many have identified the bloodcorpses. There are many ways to deal with them.”
It’d been a hundred thousand years since the great war and the emergence of tombs for the fallen immortals. The world had been developing for at least seventy thousand years, so it was only natural that people would’ve accumulated at least some learnings from tomb raiding.
After his return to the clan, Qing Han had paid a visit to the library and discovered records about bloodcorpses and ways to deal with them. That was why he’d rushed back to Dusk Province to aid Lu Yun.
“Don’t worry,” his friend responded with a smile. “I’ve only let one bloodcorpse out. The nine bloodcorpses are a single entity. The methods to take out a single bloodcorpse won’t work on the nine of them acting together. Besides, Diexi is still a secret.”
“Good.” Qing Han’s smile dropped. “Then... I’ve come for nothing?”
“Of course not. I’ve wanted to drink with you for quite a while, but never had the chance to. We’re drinking until the sun comes up!” Lu Yun chortled. “By the way, did you see Qing Yu?”
Qing Han shrugged. “No.”
……
It was noon when Qing Han next awoke. He felt something heavy on his chest, and his body also felt different. She yelped when she realized that the starstone’s disguise wasn’t in effect, and she’d become Qing Yu in her sleep.
Lu Yun’s head was pillowed on her chest, soundly asleep. Qing Yu frantically activated the starstone and turned back into Qing Han with a flash of mystical, silver light.
Thud!
Face burning hotly, Qing Han kicked Lu Yun off the bed.
“I… what happened last night?!” Qing Han quickly put his clothes back in order and sighed with relief when he realized that he was still wearing all of them, despite the unkempt state they were in.
“Hm? Oh, you’re awake.” Lu Yun sat on the floor, feeling lightheaded. They hadn’t used their core energy, or any arts to dispel the alcohol in their systems last night, so they’d gotten properly wasted. Neither of them remembered precisely what had happened.
“I think I saw Qing Yu last night,” Lu Yun murmured, touching his cheek. “She kissed me. Was it a dream?”
Qing Han froze, his face heating up when he saw the faint lip imprint on Lu Yun’s face.
“There’s something on your face!” He jumped off the bed and slapped the mark away with a hand.