He Lingchuan’s roar resounded across the deck: "Kill them! Show no mercy!"
They merely couldn't look back or step backward; their hands and feet weren't bound. What were they doing standing around like spectators?
Was this the time to fret over camaraderie with their comrades?
The men had simply been at a momentary loss. Jarred by his stern reprimand, they snapped back to their senses with a start, gritted their teeth, and raised their blades and axes against their possessed companions.
At a time like this, saving one's own skin was paramount; brotherly affection had to take a backseat.
Before long, the puppets were all slain. The Three Corpse Worms possessing them were driven out before they could even warm their new vessels.
By this point, the walnut boats had already cleared the city gate, gliding through the undulating ruins of the old city and traversing the dappled patches of light and shadow.
A few Three Corpse Worms managed to dart back into the shadows, but as the last few were forced out, they found themselves directly exposed to the sunlight.
Under the glare of the bright light, the phantom wisps dissolved instantly, leaving nothing behind.
Without a fleshly shell for protection, the true fire of the sun was their natural bane.
The satellite city was neither large nor crowded with buildings. The walnut boats soon distanced themselves from all the city walls and resumed their glide among the rolling dunes.
Sheltered by the sunlight, everyone gasped for breath, finally free to turn their heads.
Nian Songyu’s voice drifted over from another boat, reminding all the retainers: "Dump the corpses to lighten the load! We need to pick up speed!"
Night was approaching; they had to hurry along their way.
Those lying dead across the deck had once been fine companions who fought side by side. The survivors fell silent for a long moment before setting to work collecting the food, water, and weapons from the bodies.
Supplies were precious; none could be wasted.
He Chunhua’s personal guard had died with his eyes wide open. He Lingchuan walked over and gently closed his eyelids.
He Chunhua let out a sigh. "His name was Zhao Shaogang. He followed me for five years and handled many matters on my behalf."
"I know. I remember." Tightening his lips, He Lingchuan drew out the last pouch of flatbread from Zhao Shaogang’s body, his last waterskin, and an ordinary silver hairpin.
He had killed this man with his own hands.
"That hairpin belonged to..." He Chunhua was about to reminisce, but He Lingchuan cut him off.
"When a man dies, his light goes out. Dwell on it no further. His family will receive a generous pension."
Every living person had a story behind them, but what of it? They were earning hazard pay from the start.
He Chunhua stopped, clapping him on the shoulder. "You’re right."
At this moment, indulging in sentimentality was pointless.
He revealed the broken comb clutched in his left hand. "I always thought the resentment clinging to this comb could drive off those ghostly things. It seems it was useless."
This comb had been the origin of all their troubles, yet here in the desert, it appeared completely good for nothing.
He Chunhua was deeply disappointed.
He Lingchuan cast a guilty glance at it. "Perhaps we didn't use it the right way?" The divine bone necklace hanging around his neck was also a "token"—quite possibly the most important one—yet no one else knew about it.
Come to think of it, the pendant had never displayed any extraordinary effect. Did it lack the conditions to trigger it?
He shoved the corpse overboard. Below seemed to be a large reservoir bordered by black stone, though it had long run dry.
Sand burial had always been a tradition of Blackwater City and the Panlong Desert.
Listening to the thud of the corpse hitting the ground and glancing at the bloodstains on his arm—inadvertently picked up while killing and searching the body just now—he felt a tightness in his chest.
Strictly speaking, this was his first time taking a life since becoming He Lingchuan, and it had been his own father's personal guard by his hand.
He knew Zhao Shaogang; they had chatted and shared laughs.
The emergency had allowed no hesitation back then, but now that the rush had faded, He Lingchuan felt a lingering sorrow.
"Are you all right?" He Chunhua asked, noticing his bowed head.
"A bit seasick." He Lingchuan raised his waterskin, gulped down a mouthful, and forced down his restlessness along with it.
Killing one's own kind was entirely different from slaughtering chickens or dogs. He was astonished that he hadn't leaned over the railing to vomit his guts out.
Since coming to this world, his heart seemed to have hardened as well.
What was influencing him so imperceptibly?
Over on his side, Situ Han was also gathering gear, his eyes rimmed with red. One of the sand bandits had been possessed, and he had slain the man himself.
That man had plundered riches and women alongside him; just days ago, they had gotten drunk together and slept head-to-toe. Now, before his body had even grown cold, he had been cast overboard.
And everyone knew such incidents would never be scarce along this expedition.
This was merely the beginning.
He Lingchuan quietly drew several deep breaths to compose himself, then leaned in toward He Chunhua and whispered, "The fewest died aboard the National Preceptor's boat." The fewest bodies had been dumped from it.
"There has never been such a thing as fairness in this world."
Once possessed by a Three Corpse Worm, a person became a puppet. Aside from the Panlong City of old, no one possessed a method for a swift rescue. It was said that toward the end of the allied siege, the Xianyou Kingdom had developed several treatment methods, but they were time-consuming, labor-intensive, and costly. The success rate of expelling the worms was twenty percent at best, and the process took three to five days.
Three Corpse Worms originally lurked within the human body to begin with, and the very first step of an occultist's enlightenment was to sever their own Three Corpse Worms. How could driving them out through other means ever be easy?
Besides, once possessed, puppets flew into a violent frenzy. How could they ever submit to treatment docilely?
That was why decision-makers like Nian Songyu had agreed long beforehand: the moment anyone aboard was possessed by a Three Corpse Worm, they had to cut the knot cleanly, leaving behind no future trouble!
Every possessed person would turn into a burden. They simply could neither afford the time nor the cost to save them.
He Chunhua shook his head, brushing the vexing thoughts from his mind, and patted his son's shoulder. "It was thanks to your prompt action earlier that several lives were spared. By the way, when did your aim with flying daggers get so good?"
That flying dagger earlier had skimmed past his shoulder with astonishing precision.
This good-for-nothing son of his had saved his life and helped quell the chaos. He had truly made progress.
Commandery Governor He felt deeply gratified.
"My aim? Er..." He Lingchuan replied with an embarrassed grin. "Just now! Wasn't that driven by desperation?"
He Chunhua: "..."
Whether He Lingchuan’s words had proven prophetic or not, while the other two boats remained undisturbed, uninvited guests descended precisely upon National Preceptor Sun's walnut boat—
Two massive purple-gold toads.
These creatures were mutated monsters. Not only did they resemble toads magnified a hundredfold, but their mode of attack also involved shooting out tongue-arrows in a flash to snatch and devour their prey.
The mountain-sized purple-gold toads leapt from the dunes, nearly overturning the walnut boat upon landing. The galloping earth dragons were wrenched back, almost unable to pull the craft.
Just as ordinary toads preyed on flying insects, they preyed on humans. They would even raise their forelegs to help shove their prey into their mouths, swallowing them down whole.
Furthermore, when confronted by an enemy, the warty nodules across the purple-gold toads' bodies would burst, releasing a poisonous mist of purple laced with gold. Anyone who inhaled it would turn dizzy and disoriented within breaths, foaming at the mouth and collapsing to the ground.
That was how they earned their name.
Fortunately, the purple-gold toads ate at a very slow pace, chewing thoroughly and savoring every mouthful for each person they consumed, which granted National Preceptor Sun and his men ample time to deal with them.
Father and son were aboard the other boat, far beyond reach, left with no choice but to watch the show in peace.
Chapter 30