Nine hundred li from Qingming, the great lake had already expanded to a span of a hundred li, with as many as six diverted rivers pouring into its waters.
At the center of the lake stood a magnificent altar. At this moment, several figures stood atop it, each possessing an imposing aura and distinct presence, like massive mountain peaks crowded together upon a tiny altar.
Within a thousand zhang around it, space visibly warped, while a vast vortex spanning hundreds of li appeared in the sky. One could sense a terrifying will from beyond the heavens having taken notice of this place, but the power surging from the altar shielded it from that gaze.
Hongye stood at the highest tier of the altar, looking down at the blood pool at its center. Suddenly, a beam of black light shot forth from the middle of the blood pool, piercing straight into the celestial vault!
At that moment, the heavens seemed torn open, draping down a thick curtain of light from which runes several zhang across tumbled down incessantly.
Each of these runes was exceedingly complex, embodying the ultimate principles of heaven and earth, shifting in countless variations according to what they conveyed. The heavens had directly transformed their will into runes and cast them down into the mortal realm, displaying them before the Nether Shamans!
The runes were intricate and abstruse in the extreme; not one of the six Nether Shamans present could recognize them all, each only able to decipher a few. Yet even from just that little bit, they were already utterly shocked.
Hongye, however, was the only shaman who deciphered every single rune. Wild joy gradually spread across his face, and his voice immediately rang out across the entirety of Shaman City:
"The Ancestral Shaman has granted a revelation—we are certain to win this battle! He shall also open the Holy Kingdom to receive those who fall in this war. You shall all die for the Ancestral Shaman, and you may all ascend as holy spirits to the Ancestral Shaman's kingdom in heaven!"
Over ten million Shamans shouted in unison, prostrating themselves upon the ground with tears filling their eyes.
***
Wei Yuan suddenly raised his head and looked toward the sky. The blue of the celestial vault visibly rippled, and distinct waves seemed to stir across the sun.
Just moments ago, Wei Yuan felt a dreadful, colossal will descend, as if seeking to see through everything in Qingming. Unlike the creatures from beyond the heavens, this will carried unmistakable rage, madness, and scorching heat, like a blaze burning and billowing dense smoke.
Qingming surged in an instant, automatically shielding itself from the will's gaze. In that brief moment, Qingming had actually shut out that terrifying will. Beyond demonstrating the immortal stone's stature, there was another possible reason: this immortal stone was specifically tailored against that very will.
Recalling the remnant will of that immortal who had fallen into madness, Wei Yuan felt all the more that this was likely.
Wei Yuan drew back his gaze and looked at the dense, dark crowd seated on the ground before him.
The new camp in the north had already been put into service. The first to move in were the twenty thousand men on the roster, followed by a second batch of sixty thousand. Now, a full eighty thousand people sat in the drill grounds, looking up at Wei Yuan.
Looking upon these people—these mortals who truly possessed no talent and not a shred of karmic luck—Wei Yuan suddenly realized that many bore an expression of clarity and calm in their eyes. Others were numb and indifferent.
Wei Yuan could not help but wonder: had so many of them already learned their fate?
According to the history books, people in situations like this would usually scatter in panic. Even if forcibly driven onto the battlefield, they would rout at the first clash. That was why Wei Yuan had prepared numerous backup measures, including medicines, secret arts, and Daoist techniques.
Yet if they already knew their fate, why had they not fled? Why could they still sit here in peace? At this moment, there were suits of armor and weapons in the camp. Fire guns required no cultivation to use, and they knew where they were stored. If they chose to riot and seize them, a mere hundred-odd cultivators would never be able to stop them.
Filled with doubt, Wei Yuan spoke, "As you all know, this battle is a fight of life and death. The Shamans have mobilized ten million troops and are closing in step by step. They will not rest until Qingming is uprooted and every single person on this land is slaughtered! But regretfully, no matter how one calculates it, we may not be able to win this battle."
Suddenly, an abrupt voice rang out from the crowd: "Domain Lord, didn't you summon us here just so we would die?"
The speaker was a burly man with a reckless, devil-may-care look on his face. Wei Yuan remembered the records of everyone here and recognized him. His name was Pei Yi. After arriving in Qingming, he had started a family, and now had two unweaned children at home.
Tens of thousands remained in dead silence, quietly waiting for Wei Yuan's response.
Wei Yuan said in a deep voice, "That is correct. Soon, you will march onto the battlefield, and it is very likely you will not return alive. Calling it marching to your deaths is not wrong. But every clash you fight, every enemy you kill, will weaken the Shamans' strength, exhaust their resources, and nudge us a step closer to victory! Even if we still cannot achieve victory in the end, we must tear off a hunk of the enemy's flesh, chew it up, and swallow it down! Perhaps we may ultimately lose this land, but whenever the enemy remembers us, they will tremble and fear!"
Amidst the crowd, another voice suddenly called out, "My lord, we heard that the Lingxiao Heroic Spirits Hall being built over there will enshrine spirit tablets for mortal heroes. Is that true?"
Wei Yuan replied, "Yes. Everyone present today is qualified to be entered into the Heroic Spirits Hall, to be revered by future generations!"
A burst of hearty laughter suddenly rang out from the crowd: "Hahaha, who would have thought that I, Hu Laosan, could see a day when my descendants will remember me!"
"I'm all by myself with no kin. Having a place to rest after I die isn't bad either!"
Voices rose one after another, quickly coalescing into a roaring tide that left Wei Yuan unable to speak the rest of his words.
At that moment, the reckless burly man named Pei Yi stepped forward from the crowd, came before Wei Yuan, and said, "My lord, folks like us may not read much, but we understand right from wrong! You treated us well, so we'll pay you back with our lives—it's that simple! Besides, being enshrined in the Heroic Spirits Hall after death—how could a good thing like that miss out on Pei Yi?"
Someone beside him also chimed in, "It's just death, nothing to fret about! You need only give the order!"
"Exactly! Only after coming to Qingming did we get to eat our fill. Now that we've enjoyed good fortune, it's time to fight to the death."
One chiming in after another, they left no room at all for Wei Yuan to interject.
Wei Yuan had no words in reply. In the end, he could only bow deeply to the eighty thousand mortals.
Once everyone quieted down a little, Wei Yuan ordered armor and weapons distributed and their basic handling taught.
At this moment, Feng Chutang appeared beside Wei Yuan. Looking down at the orderly mortals, a faint trace of emotion showed in his eyes as he asked, "Did you arrange those people just now? They spoke rather well."
Wei Yuan was taken aback. "Of course not. Did you arrange it?"
Feng Chutang went silent for a moment, then said, "I didn't think that far ahead. And even if I had planted people, they wouldn't have said words like that."
Both fell silent. After a moment, Feng Chutang let out a sigh. "What a pity."
He turned to leave, saying, "Don't look for me for the next two days. I need to think carefully about where all the books I read in the past went wrong."
Bursts of roaring snapped Wei Yuan back to reality. Outside the camp, a shooting range capable of training a thousand people at once had already been built for target practice. Plumes of white smoke rose from the grounds, and loose rock shattered against the mountain cliff face ahead.
Every commoner had to practice shooting before heading to the front. Although Qingming was short on ammunition, Wei Yuan still granted everyone a training quota of two shots. Even if they were marching to fight to the death, Wei Yuan wanted them to die with greater worth, rather than simply be slaughtered by the Shamans.
On the firing range, instructors corrected improper shooting postures one by one, followed by another volley—this time with noticeably improved accuracy and form. Afterward, this squad of mortals stepped off the range and returned to camp to clean and maintain their fire guns.
***
Three days later, the world west of Qingming had turned entirely green. Thick military qi connected heaven and earth; even stationed without moving, the military qi naturally suffused the entire firmament.
The Shamans' canal had been dug to the two-hundred-li mark. As more than a dozen mobile altars were pushed across the hundred-li boundary line, the Shamans' all-out assault was on the verge of beginning.
At that moment in the camp, Wei Yuan activated Ephemeral Multitude, letting everyone familiarize themselves with the feeling of skyrocketing power. Then, squad after squad of mortals marched out of camp in formation, heading for the battlefield.
They knew this journey would be one of no return, yet they marched to their deaths firmly, calmly, and resolutely.
The foremost four thousand mortals entered Ding'an City directly. Dozens of sapient Dao Foundation warriors were already waiting here, guiding the mortals into their respective positions.
The defensive positions were empty. Every hundred-man mortal squad was assigned an extensive stretch of trench. Soon after, another thousand-odd mortals were sent into the positions, joined by fifty regulars of Qingming's standing army. Finally, nearly two thousand more entered, at last bolstering this section of the defensive line.
By now, the tremors of the earth grew increasingly pronounced. The air was filled with various shrieks and clamorous noises from parts unknown. An officer strained his throat, using every ounce of strength to make his voice heard above the din:
"Everyone stay down! When I say charge, only then do you advance to the forward positions! The men around me charge with me first; the rest of you stay hidden right here until ordered! Do you understand? Don't throw your lives away for nothing!"
A sharp screeching howl drew from far to near. Suddenly, the shelter everyone was hiding in violently shuddered. Many tumbled to the ground, shaken dizzy and seeing stars.
"Charge with me!" the officer roared, dashing out first, with hundreds of men swarming after him.
Just as those behind were about to follow, another officer reached out to hold them back, so the rest continued to wait inside the shelter.
The noises outside abruptly turned into an uproar: rumblings, battle cries, human screams, and Shaman shrieks intertwined, drowning out what anyone beside them was saying. The wind blowing in from outside turned scorching hot, carrying a sickening stench of blood and rot that made one want to retch.
At that moment, someone pounded on the shelter's heavy door. The officer yanked it open and shouted, "Follow me!" before charging out at the lead. Several hundred men followed, leaving the rest to keep waiting.
The moment they emerged from the shelter, many were stunned.
In just that brief span, the city walls had been breached in multiple places. Numerous Shaman soldiers had appeared atop the ramparts, while firing embrasures had opened along the flanks of the steel bunkers, relentlessly mowing down Shamans scaling the wall.
The officer felled a Shaman in front of him with a single shot and charged toward the bunker assigned to him. Outside that bunker, no friendly troops remained; crowds of Shamans jammed its entrance, trying desperately to breach it. Inside, defenders clung to the entrance with their lives, every firing embrasure spitting tongues of fire in non-stop volleys.
Without a word, empowered by Ephemeral Multitude, the officer carved out a bloody path, leading over twenty men safely into the bunker. Everyone else fell along the way.
A moment later, the remaining men in the shelter set out once more. A fresh mixed detachment of two thousand entered to take up standby positions.
In just half an hour, the entirety of the shelter's first contingent had fallen in battle.
Chapter 492