National Preceptor Sun lowered his voice.
"—When the Panlong Wasteland turned into a dead land once more and the Gale Army reached the end of the line, Zhong Shengguang held a blood sacrifice to a deity!"
He Lingchuan blurted out, "A deity sacrifice?!"
Nian Songyu raised a finger to his lips and hushed him softly. "Keep your voice down. Reckless talk about such things will cost you your head."
He Chunhua looked grim and lowered his voice as well. "If it was a deity sacrifice, it would naturally have been kept secret."
Sacrificing to a deity meant making a blood offering to a god.
The Yuan Kingdom had inscribed the prohibition of deity sacrifices into state law. It was a foundational law with severe punishments; once discovered, the lightest penalty was beheading, and the harshest was clan extermination, with no clemency even for high nobles.
In truth, this was true not only of the Yuan Kingdom, but of nations across the world—the only difference lay in the severity of the punishment.
He Lingchuan certainly had not forgotten that his own family had been beheaded by the emperor because his grandfather had been falsely accused of "deity sacrifice." Those two words were a thorn embedded in the hearts of the He family.
However, the so-called ban on deity sacrifices did not include worshiping popular folk spirits such as mountain spirits, river spirits, wild beasts and demons, door gods, kitchen gods, gods of wealth, or gods of fortune. After all, people possessed an innate desire for advancement, wealth, and good health, which could never be suppressed.
What the nations explicitly prohibited was the private worship of specific, named deities—what the authorities termed "evil gods" and "malicious deities."
For instance, the crime that had cost He Lingchuan's clan their heads was worshiping "Tongming Zhenjun."
Here was the crux: the primary basis for judging a prohibited deity sacrifice was whether the ritual involved living offerings or human sacrifice. If one merely muttered a few prayers in their heart or offered the deity a few plates of roast chicken and cured fish, the state couldn't care less whom they worshiped.
"Which deity did Zhong Shengguang worship?"
"Mitian."
Sun Fuping explained immediately, "There was no honorific title, for the original text merely said, 'Bowed in worship, seeking deliverance from Mitian.' Xiluo also banned deity sacrifices, so Zhong Shengguang acted only out of desperation. I doubt He Jian would have recorded the entire ritual in detail."
The name was entirely unfamiliar. He Chunhua murmured thoughtfully, "Has the National Preceptor ever heard of this deity?"
"Never." Sun Fuping shook his head. "Yet Zhong Shengguang conducted a blood sacrifice—and the offering was his own flesh-and-blood daughter!"
He Chunhua's expression changed. "What?"
Zhong Shengguang truly was ruthless to sacrifice his own flesh and blood to a deity.
He Lingchuan clicked his tongue in secret. No wonder it was an evil god; it actually fed on human lives.
"And what did this deity grant in return?"
"'The deity was greatly pleased and graciously bestowed Dafang; wielded against the enemy, slaying one brings a hundred into submission.'" Sun Fuping spread his hands. "That is all that could be deciphered from the original text. The rest was stained and damaged beyond reading."
"That might as well say nothing at all. The god was so 'generous,' but what divine relic did it actually bestow to repel the enemy?" He Lingchuan said in dissatisfaction. "The two of you traveled thousands of li to get here; surely you have some clue?" There was no need to keep them in suspense now.
Inwardly, he sighed. No matter how valiant and formidable Zhong Shengguang was, when human strength was exhausted and all hope was lost, even he could not resist turning to a deity for help.
Conversely, what kind of power did this deity possess to allow the doomed Gale Army to turn the tables against all odds and hold out for another twenty years?
*Ignorant pup, daring to show disrespect even to a National Preceptor.* Sun Fuping glanced at him. "He Jian's book alone revealed nothing definitive. It was not until recently, when the Grand Marshal uncovered an ancient letter—a farewell letter handwritten by Zhong Shengguang's personal guard—that the truth finally came to light by comparing the two relics!"
As father and son listened intently, the riddle was at last solved.
"The treasure bestowed by the god Mitian was indeed named Dafang! Zhong Shengguang called it the 'Dafang Pot,' but in truth, it is the hive of Heart-Confusing Worms."
*Heart-Confusing Worms?* He Lingchuan admired whoever named them; it was so blunt and self-explanatory that anyone hearing it would instantly understand what the insects did.
However, his father immediately complicated the simple matter. "Does this thing have a formal name, called the 'Three Corpse Worms'?"
"Correct, they are indeed the Three Corpse Worms," Nian Songyu smiled. "They have neither form nor substance, infesting three places in the human body—head, belly, and feet—spurring evil delusions and brooding agitation. Whether martial artist or mystic, the first step in proving the Dao is to sever the Three Corpses and shatter clinging delusions. But ordinary rank-and-file soldiers in an army have no way to counter them. Once unleashed, they are an ultimate weapon on the battlefield."
"An army possesses a tremendous concentration of fierce vitality and blood-qi, shielded by the nation's destiny, naturally suppressing all forms of mystic arts and evil spirits."
That much He Lingchuan knew.
Military camps were never haunted by ghosts. Furthermore, large-scale mystic arts and divine abilities rarely succeeded on the battlefield unless the casting mystic or general was strongly bolstered by the nation's destiny.
Generally speaking, only a National Preceptor could achieve that, much like National Preceptor Sun before them.
Sun Fuping clapped his hands. "Yet these Three Corpse Worms originate within the human body itself. They are not repelled by blood-qi or origin energy, and can smoothly latch onto enemies, forcing them to obey commands and turn against their own side. Truly a divine artifact!"
He Chunhua finally understood and let out a long breath. "In other words, you came for this divine artifact?"
"Precisely." Sun Fuping had laid everything bare at last. "Back then, it helped Zhong Shengguang defend the city; now, it can repel our enemies. You need not worry about the Three Corpse Worms dying inside the hive—those creatures require neither breath nor sustenance."
He Lingchuan suddenly chimed in, "The Grand Marshal you mentioned just now... who is that?"
When the words "Grand Marshal" were spoken earlier, both father and son had felt their hearts skip a beat.
"Who else could it be?" Nian Songyu raised an eyebrow. "Naturally, it is the Emperor's father-in-law, Pillar of State Senior General and Grand Marshal Dong Haoming!"
There it was! He Lingchuan and his father exchanged a glance, both thinking to themselves, *Just as expected.*
In the short span of two months, guards from the Pillar of State Senior General's residence, the son of the Xunzhou Governor, and a National Preceptor of Great Yuan had appeared in Blackwater City one after another. This was no coincidence.
Only now did the connections between them clearly come to light.
He Chunhua wore a look of surprise. "To think it was the Grand Marshal who found the clue. Then the two of you came here in order to...?"
"His Majesty consulted with the Grand Marshal and dispatched me to the Panlong Desert to retrieve the Dafang Pot before the Woling Pass rebels finish building their ships and launch them into the water!" Sun Fuping pointed at Nian Songyu. "Passing through Xunzhou, General Nian dispatched elite fighters under his command to assist, led by Commandant Nian. But here in Blackwater City, we need guides, manpower, and other assistance!"
"Retrieve the Dafang Pot?" He Lingchuan observed his father's expression, then adopted a look of shock. "Wait a moment—you can't possibly intend to charge into the Panlong Desert, can you? Red Cliff Road is about to close! Any three-year-old in Blackwater City knows that going in now is suicide!"
His voice grew louder as he spoke, born partly of pretense and partly of genuine exasperation.
He had enjoyed barely fifty-odd good days—was trouble already knocking at the door?
He hated nothing more than apocalyptic crises and turning the tide against impossible odds. All he wanted was to be an idle, mediocre official's son who ate and waited to die!
He Chunhua pondered as well and said, "Entering the Panlong Desert at this time truly is a nine-to-one chance of death. The two of you are not from Blackwater City and have never witnessed the brutality of the Panlong Desert. Even divine abilities barely function there."
Chapter 10