How About We Talk?

As the breach in the fortress wall was completely sealed, the vast tide of flame demons receded. Wei Yuan felt the crushing pressure lift. Looking all around, not a single flame demon remained standing. Within a radius of a hundred feet around him, the ground was blanketed with the corpses of flame demons, their blood flowing steadily inward toward the city, converging into streams and rivers. Countless Power Shamans stared at Wei Yuan in palpable dread, none daring to draw near. Inspecting himself with his divine sense, Wei Yuan realized his body was already caked in the blood and shredded flesh of flame demons—layer upon layer, fresh gore poured over older coats before they had even dried. He no longer looked anything like himself; even his eyes were dyed blood-red. Moments later, sporadic cheers finally broke out across the fortress. Most of the Power Shamans had collapsed directly onto the ground, without even the strength to stand. The shamans who were cheering looked around, and their shouts gradually died down. Outside the fortress, a lonely figure appeared, walking in step by step while cradling a corpse that Wei Yuan found somewhat familiar. It was Ronglong. As he drew closer, Wei Yuan looked through the blood-soaked fur and realized that what Ronglong held in his arms was Yanhu's corpse! Even a Desolate Shaman had fallen? Ronglong returned to the fortress without a word. In silence, he gently laid Yanhu's body down, then unhooked three flame demon heads from his waist and set them beside Yanhu. The other three Desolate Shamans stood nearby as well, silently gazing down at Yanhu's corpse, their eyes filled with grief over their shared plight. The atmosphere grew oppressive, like a stagnant storm cloud looming over everyone, as though a single final bolt of lightning would unleash a torrential deluge. After a moment of silence, Ronglong said, "Notify Yanhu's family. Send his corpse and personal effects back to them. Credit all of my military merit from this battle to his name." In this battle, Yanhu had slain two Scenery Command perfection flame demons and one ordinary Scenery Command flame demon—an immense tally of battle merit, more than he usually amassed in a year or two. Furthermore, Yanhu had never accumulated military merit; most of it was distributed as casualty compensation to the families of fallen soldiers, leaving him with virtually nothing of his own most of the time. Another Desolate Shaman, eyes weighed down with grief, spoke slowly: "I'll contribute half of mine." The remaining two Desolate Shamans also chipped in considerable military merit, together scraping together roughly thirty years' worth of Yanhu's stipend. Converted into currency, such merit was enough to sustain a small tribe's peaceful development for a hundred years. Yet a Power Shaman in charge of military supplies suddenly spoke up: "Lord Yanhu... doesn't seem to have any family." Ronglong was taken aback. "I remember him having a son." The quartermaster said, "Lord Yanhu killed the grandson of a Heavenly Shaman to avenge his son. It was done without leaving a trace, but his son lusted after the path and bounty promised by the Heavenly Shaman, and actually went and denounced his own father! It was precisely because of this that Lord Yanhu volunteered for assignment to Fengmang, giving up two prior opportunities to transfer out. If he were still alive, he would surely never want anything to do with his current kin." "So that was how it was. It seems I had forgotten." Ronglong gently massaged his forehead. "Lord Yanhu's heart was already broken, so..." Ronglong was silent a moment longer before saying, "Then let us refine his Dharma body and send him into the cycle of reincarnation." One of the Desolate Shamans hesitated. "But by doing so, he won't be able to retain his karma from this life. His future reincarnation will be an entirely new shaman, severed from this lifetime forever." Ronglong mused for a moment, then murmured, "That is for the best. If there truly is an afterlife, he won't have to be entangled with his family again, nor will he know that such a fortress exists in this world. Otherwise, given his temperament, he might just encounter them again hundreds of years from now." A chill like autumn wind swept through the hearts of the Desolate Shamans, bringing an inexplicable sorrow. Ronglong looked at Yanhu's corpse and gave a slow nod. Several Power Shamans joined forces to lift Yanhu's body and place it onto a small altar. Afterward, Sacrificial Shamans scattered flammable powder over the corpse and doused it in oil. Only with combustion accelerants and the catalyst of sacrificial power could Yanhu's Dharma body be thoroughly refined. Once Yanhu's Dharma body was burned completely into calamity ash, all karma tying him to this life would be severed. Even if secret arts were used to enlighten his intellect in his next life, he would never be able to trace his way back to this one. At that point, Yanhu would be a clean, blank sheet of paper, and everything would begin anew. A Desolate Shaman suddenly spoke: "Send a message to Jitian City and report today's battle! The lord has nine Heavenly Eyes; even if all of them are blind, he can't simply turn a blind eye to a report delivered right to his face, can he?" Ronglong spoke very slowly, occasionally drifting into dazed trances. "Sending a report up will amount to nothing more than asking for aid, prompting them to send down new reinforcements and new Desolate Shamans." "That's how it should be! Fight two more battles like this, and not even Jiumu himself could hold this fortress!" Another Desolate Shaman, malice gleaming in his eyes, gritted his teeth and snarled, "Boss, it's not like you're afraid of Jiumu. Why don't we lure him over and do him in! Clear out his seat, and you can take his place!" Ronglong's headache seemed to worsen; his brow furrowed as he said, "Asking Jiumu for reinforcements is just handing him a blade, giving him an excuse to frame any Desolate Shamans he dislikes and send them our way." One Desolate Shaman sighed. "Indeed. That's how we ended up here." Another Desolate Shaman chuckled bitterly. "Levying Power Shamans for support is just his way of lining his pockets. Whoever pays the least gets sent." Ronglong said softly, "Let's speak no more of this. Send Yanhu off first." Once Yanhu's corpse was prepared, eight Sacrificial Shamans knelt at the eight cardinal directions of the altar and activated it. As sacrificial power surged in, fierce flames instantly erupted over the small altar. Yet fire hot enough to melt steel could not burn away Yanhu's Dharma body; it merely singed his fur. To completely refine his Dharma body still required the aid of Ronglong's dragon flame. Ronglong stepped forward, about to act, when his expression suddenly changed, fury flashing across his face. A gigantic claw reached down from the sky, lightly scooping up Yanhu's corpse, followed by a voice dripping with mockery: "Such a fine Dharma body—how could you burn it just like that? If you don't want it, this seat still has great use for it!" Upon hearing this voice, every Power Shaman trembled from head to toe and dropped to their knees involuntarily. A colossal monstrosity materialized in midair. It had the upper body of a human and the lower body of a beast, complete with four claws. Only four eyes could be seen on its head, all of them fixed unblinkingly on Ronglong, watching his every move. The three Desolate Shamans dropped to their knees as well, calling out in unison, "Lord Jiumu!" In the entire area, only Ronglong remained standing. Or perhaps one could count half of another: Wei Yuan. The instant Wei Yuan saw Jiumu appear, he collapsed back against the wall, pretending to be gravely wounded. Since he was positioned far from them, he did not draw any attention. Another momentary daze flashed across Ronglong's eyes before he asked, "What do you intend to do with Yanhu's Dharma body?" "Whatever I like. An ornamental display, perhaps, or turn it into a puppet. Even doing nothing with it, keeping it in the storehouse as spare material is good enough." As Jiumu spoke, his gaze remained locked on Ronglong. Ronglong's speech grew increasingly sluggish. "Yanhu died in battle. You have no right to touch his remains." Jiumu sneered with utter contempt. "Since he has no family anyway, this body is ownerless, so this seat may naturally take it. Even if he still had clan bloodlines, if this seat wants it, I can requisition it just the same. What, you think you can oppose this seat's decision?" "I..." Ronglong suddenly forgot what he was going to say next. Jiumu's gaze sharpened, and he abruptly tossed Yanhu's corpse back to him. "Forget it. Since you want this corpse so badly, consider it a reward!" Ronglong blinked, instinctively catching Yanhu's body. The confusion and daze in his eyes vanished, replaced by clarity. Yet once his wits returned, his face darkened terribly. A cold sneer spread across Jiumu's face. "So I've probed your true state after all, haven't I? I knew you wouldn't stay obedient all these centuries! Honestly, if you had managed to endure it just now, I really wouldn't have had any good move—at most, I would have refined Yanhu's body, bound his soul inside to torment day and night, and invited you over to watch from time to time. But now, there's no need for such trouble." Ronglong regained his composure. "Yanhu died in battle. If you did that, I would no longer be able to lead these troops." "And what of it? Could you really stand by and watch the flame demons raze Fengmang to the ground? Even if you don't care about hundreds of years of your own blood and sweat, these thousand-odd Power Shamans have followed you for over a century—many nurtured by your hands from the early stage to perfection. Could you bear to watch them slaughtered to the last by flame demons? You couldn't, could you? Hahahaha!" Jiumu threw his head back and laughed uproariously, utterly insolent. The three kneeling Desolate Shamans trembled faintly, right on the verge of erupting, but with Ronglong staying his hand, none of them dared truly lash out. Ronglong's voice grew sluggish once more: "I truly could not bear it, but..." Jiumu abruptly cut off his laughter. "I will be taking Yanhu's Dharma body; it cannot simply be burned. Reinforcements of Desolate Shamans and warriors will arrive within three days. During these three days, I will keep an eye on this place and will not allow the flame demons to prevail again. Still, it seems an extraordinary little genius has appeared in your ranks..." As Jiumu spoke, his gaze swept across the entire fortress, ultimately coming to rest upon Wei Yuan! Wei Yuan immediately saw five more points of light ignite across Jiumu's body. The one in the very center burned exceptionally bright, emanating a radiance that could see through all things—not only discerning the present, but peering into the past and karma. Caught entirely off guard, Wei Yuan was illuminated through and through by that gaze. His face instantly contorted into an ugly scowl, knowing this could not end well today. No matter how confident he was, he knew escaping from the clutches of a Heavenly Shaman was impossible. In the end, all he could do before dying was bite back and see how deep a wound he could leave. Fortunately, he held the immortal tool Compassion in hand. With this spear, he could fully unleash tens of millions of threads of human fortune azure qi in a single strike, using it to cast Dusk of the Immortal Path—a strike potent enough to sicken even a Heavenly Shaman for a very, very long time. Yet Wei Yuan suddenly noticed that Jiumu's expression was darkening as well, turning every bit as unsightly as his own. Jiumu stared at Wei Yuan for a long while. Though a smile still lingered on his face, it looked uglier than weeping. Looking at Wei Yuan, he ventured tentatively: "Friend Power Shaman, how about... we talk?"