Wei Yuan stumbled, hurtling tens of zhang forward against his will, crushing and trampling countless flame demons in his wake. Sweeping his divine sense behind him, he found an endless swarm of demons, with no way to tell who had ambushed him.
With the slightest movement, dozens of wounds suddenly tore open across his body. Only by drawing a deep, forced breath did he manage to seal them shut again. Even as formidable as his dharma body was, it had reached its absolute limit. His defenses were degrading, wounds multiplied across his flesh, and his regeneration grew slower and slower.
A sudden wave of exhaustion struck him, nearly blacking out his vision. Reaching out blindly, Wei Yuan grabbed a flame demon, only for a sharp jolt of agony to shoot up his arm as the creature sank its teeth deep into his flesh.
Ignoring the searing pain, Wei Yuan rammed his spear straight through the demon, opening a gaping hole. Blood erupted like a geyser. Opening his mouth, Wei Yuan inhaled sharply, swallowing every last drop into his stomach.
The flame demon's blood was bitter and acrid, like drinking sulfur-choked muddy sludge, and violently toxic. As his stomach churned, he forcibly digested a fraction of the demonic blood, sparking a sudden surge of vigor. He immediately spat out a cloud of black mist; the few flame demons engulfed by it dropped dead on the spot.
This black mist was the byproduct of digested flame demon blood—pure, concentrated venom that even the flame demons themselves could not endure.
Sustaining himself on the flesh and blood of the demons, Wei Yuan continually dragged his depleted stamina and Dao power back from the brink, only to fight once more until utterly spent.
He had no idea how long the slaughter went on. At one point, his left arm was severed and devoured, only to slowly grow back. The only thing etched clearly in his memory was the toll of seven Scenery Command flame demons felled beneath his spear.
As the demonic toxins accumulated and his physical reserves emptied, Wei Yuan's vision blurred. Catching sight of another towering flame demon before him, he thrust his spear forward on pure instinct.
Yet somehow, the spear was caught in his opponent's grip, and a familiar voice sounded: "Wake up. The battle is over."
It took several breaths for Wei Yuan's mind to register the words. The battle was over?
Catching his breath, a wisp of Dao power rekindled within his withered body, and he saw Ronglong standing before him. Looking around, he found the ground carpeted in flame demon corpses. In the distance, an ocean of demons was ebbing away like a receding tide toward the Heavenly Pillar.
"It's really over?" Wei Yuan muttered, dazed as he watched the retreating horde.
"It's over." Ronglong unclasped his war robe and draped it over Wei Yuan, wrapping his battered dharma body. "Let's head back to the fortress."
The moment the robe enveloped him, Wei Yuan's mind cleared. His vitality and spiritual power began recovering rapidly, revealing the garment to be an immortal artifact. More importantly, it possessed the power to sever perception between realms—not even a Heavenly Shaman could see through it. Once clad in the robe, no one could perceive Wei Yuan's true form.
Pointing behind Wei Yuan, Ronglong added, "Everyone is waiting for you."
Turning around, Wei Yuan saw that the battle along Fengmang had drawn to a close. Strength Shamans stood atop the walls, while two Desolate Shamans hovered in the air, all gazing in his direction.
Ronglong pointed a finger, conjuring a path of light from the ground beneath Wei Yuan's feet all the way to the fortress ramparts. Wei Yuan glanced at him, but Ronglong merely turned slightly sideways, gesturing for Wei Yuan to lead the way.
After a moment's hesitation, Wei Yuan stepped forward. As he lifted his foot, the path of light shortened beneath him. Within a few strides, he crossed a thousand li and landed atop the fortress wall.
The surviving Strength Shamans lined both sides of the path. Among them were warriors clad in steel armor—Wei Yuan's original subordinates—now reduced to barely a hundred.
At Wei Yuan's arrival, every Strength Shaman pressed a hand to their chest, took a step back, and dropped neatly onto one knee. The two Desolate Shamans in the air bowed in solemn respect, unleashing an overwhelming flood of karmic luck toward him.
"This... what is this—?" Wei Yuan stood momentarily at a loss.
The shamans merely looked at him in silence. The heavy reverence in their eyes said everything.
Appearing behind him, Ronglong asked, "Aren't you going to say a few words to them?"
Wei Yuan offered a wry smile, truly having no idea what to say. After such a savage battle, his true form had likely been laid bare before them all. What was there to say now that a human had infiltrated the innermost stronghold of the Shamans?
Ronglong only smiled without pressing him. Raising his voice, he proclaimed, "This victory was hard-won and entirely beyond expectation. But the flame demons have only suffered a temporary setback; their foundation remains unbroken. So, let us first rebuild the fortress!"
The Strength Shamans rallied at once. Dragging their battered, exhausted bodies, they set to clearing the corpses and gathering the remains of their fallen brethren, throwing themselves into the bustling work with fiery enthusiasm.
Watching them toil, Ronglong sighed softly. "You might find it strange that no one seems to grieve. In truth, this is simply how we Strength Shamans are. Born of heaven and earth, death is merely returning to heaven and earth. We are accustomed to looking forward. The dead have passed on; the living must strive to live. The Desolate Realm is far too harsh and desolate. Without simple, unburdened minds, staying here too long will easily drive one mad."
Ronglong smiled warmly and patted Wei Yuan on the shoulder. "Shall we rebuild Fengmang together?"
"All right!" Wei Yuan agreed.
Dropping onto the ramparts, Ronglong swept his hand, casting dozens of flame demon corpses over the battlements. Wei Yuan pointed a finger, instantly conjuring dozens of Dao soldiers around him. Each soldier lunged onto a demon corpse; the carcass would wobble to its feet and fling itself over the edge.
The Dao soldiers then flew back, plunging into fresh carcasses to continue the clearance.
Watching this, Ronglong could not help but praise him. "What an exquisite shamanic art!"
"It is merely a handful of clever tricks," Wei Yuan replied.
"No," Ronglong countered. "Your art can manipulate demon corpses, but it can just as easily control war puppets, contraptions, or corpse soldiers. If you prepare rare catalysts, you could summon formidable Dao soldiers. And if you possess sufficient spirituality, you could command them through it—allowing them to fight independently without your direct oversight, vastly multiplying their power."
This was an angle Wei Yuan had never considered; the original scriptures of the Five Elements Dao Soldiers made no mention of it either. But given Ronglong's extraordinary vision, if he saw potential in it, there was bound to be merit. Wei Yuan suddenly realized—speaking of spirituality, didn't his Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World possess an abundance of it? Unfortunately, it was currently sealed, leaving him unable to test the idea.
Side by side like two ordinary Strength Shamans, Wei Yuan and Ronglong hauled corpses, cleared rubble, and rebuilt altars, performing the most rudimentary labor.
Amid the hard work, Wei Yuan's stamina gradually returned, and a thin layer of new flesh began knitting over his wounds. However, the new skin was tinged a pale greenish-blue—the lingering toxins from drinking so much demon blood had seeped deep into his regenerating flesh. Now, Wei Yuan was a poison shaman in every sense of the word; were an ordinary Strength Shaman to lick him a few times, they would drop dead on the spot.
Before long, a day went by. The interior of the fortress was finally cleared. Every fallen Strength Shaman that could be found had been retrieved, and incomplete remains were pieced together as best as possible.
Just then, Jiumu's voice resonated beside Wei Yuan and Ronglong: "Heavenly Shaman Huiye caught wind of the disturbances in the Desolate Realm and has entered to conduct an inspection. She will arrive at Fengmang Fortress shortly. Prepare whatever needs preparing."
Huiye again? The woman was like an inescapable ghost! Wei Yuan took inventory of his assets—over eight hundred strands of Strength Shaman karmic luck, two supreme strands of Desolate Shaman karmic luck, and a little over ten million strands of human fortune azure qi—pondering how best to serve her a colossal blow.
Beside him, Ronglong spoke in a calm, steady voice: "Tell her to get lost."
Chapter 915