Even after being brought over, the two puppets continued to thrash relentlessly. The Three Corpse Worms truly could squeeze every last drop of potential from a human body; two hours had passed since the group entered the city, yet the two somehow still possessed strength.
However, the soldiers guarding them were not made of iron, so they had simply bound the puppets' legs together to catch a moment's nap.
Thus, the pair had been carried in and dumped onto the floor. They curled their bodies, trembling shiver after shiver.
The talisman vests covering them ensured the Three Corpse Worms remained trapped within the human bodies, unable to escape.
Situ Han asked in wonder, "Are they cold, or are they afraid?"
"Afraid. Do things infested with Three Corpse Worms even know what cold is?" He Lingchuan squatted down to examine them closely. "Still, it isn't us they're afraid of."
Their eyes lacked focus, plainly paying no heed to anyone present.
Yet the vast Panlong Ruins stood devoid of a living soul. What could they possibly fear?
Nian Songyu remarked, "Forget living people—there aren't even any Three Corpse Worms inside this ruined city. They don't dare draw near at all. Why?"
"Something terrifies them." Sun Fuping stood up. "Whatever it is, it should be close to our objective."
He Lingchuan asked with curiosity, "Do you intend to make them say it themselves? Can Three Corpse Worms actually talk?"
It seemed Sun Fuping had brought these two puppets along specifically to test an experiment.
"Ordinary ones cannot, but who knows whether those produced by the Dafang Pot might offer us some clues." Sun Fuping stepped before the puppets and said, "Your nest, the Dafang Pot, is definitely still inside the city. Point me to its location, and I will set you free."
The two puppets continued to tremble, continuing their vacant disdain, treating him as though he were made of air.
"These things don't put you in their eyes!" He Lingchuan fumed. "Teach them a lesson and save us some time."
From his robes, Sun Fuping withdrew a set of golden needles. He coated each one with medicinal moxa, toasted them with a wisp of true fire kindled at his fingertips, and thrust them into the puppets' occiputs, heart apertures, and feet.
The puppets instantly wailed in agony.
These three locations were where the Three Corpse Worms entrenched themselves. Sun Fuping's medicinal flames burned straight onto their tails, inflicting excruciating pain. Otherwise, had blades, axes, or divine abilities been turned upon them, only the hosts would suffer; the Three Corpse Worms would not care in the slightest.
Now they finally looked directly at Sun Fuping, but their gazes were vicious, like wolves fixing their eyes on fresh meat.
To them, mortals were merely vessels of flesh and bone.
"I know you can understand human speech," Sun Fuping said in an even voice. "Refuse to give me an answer, and you will suffer far worse."
With that, he went to work.
His golden needles were hollow, designed to allow constant replenishing and escalation of the medicinal brew.
The onlookers watched as the point of red flame at the ends of the needles flared brighter, and the puppets' screams spiked several pitches higher.
Double the dose meant double the agony.
Sun Fuping paused and demanded, "Will you speak?"
The puppets only shrieked without pause.
So he increased the punishment.
He repeated this several times.
The further he went, the slower his strikes became. The soul bodies of this reinforced variety of Three Corpse Worms were far stronger than those of their ordinary kin; otherwise, his medicinal concoction would have killed them a quarter of an hour ago.
Unless severed by the host themselves, once a Three Corpse Worm died, the host perished with it.
Thus, maintaining the proper measure became increasingly difficult.
At last, one puppet let out a loud roar, his neck tilted to one side, and his breath ceased.
It really won't work, after all? Sun Fuping released a long sigh.
The Three Corpse Worms bred by the Dafang Pot ought to have been unique. If they could communicate with mortals, this venture into Panlong City would proceed much more smoothly.
What a pity. It seemed there was no shortcut for this task.
In truth, he had harbored only a faint glimmer of hope. After all, during the war of attrition fought on this wasteland over a century ago, the allied army had likely exhausted every method imaginable to extract intelligence.
He had merely thought that time might have altered things.
Just then, the other tormented Three Corpse Worm erupted in a frenzy. It broke through its restraints and grabbed He Lingchuan's arm in a vice grip!
Caught completely off guard, everyone gasped.
Without a second thought, He Chunhua lunged forward, taking off the puppet's head with a single stroke of his blade.
The howling cut off abruptly.
"Chuan'er, are you all right?" He Chunhua's grip on his saber did not loosen.
He Lingchuan was also thoroughly startled. Subconsciously prying open the dead man's fingers, he checked his internal condition before saying, "I'm fine."
The creature had gripped him hard enough for its fingers to nearly sink into his skin.
Fortunately, after circulating his true power through a full cycle, he detected nothing amiss.
The crowd exchanged glances.
Sun Fuping stepped forward, inspecting the pupils of his eyes while asking, "Do you feel irritable, distressed, dizzy, or heavy-headed?"
"My mind is clear, no abnormalities. It seems to have had no effect on me."
Sun Fuping nodded. "The effects of the Soul-Shielding Powder haven't completely worn off yet; it still provides protection."
He Lingchuan sighed. "Looks like the Three Corpse Worms here aren't anything special after all."
Seeing that his son was truly unharmed, He Chunhua finally felt relieved. "They simply refuse to leave the Panlong Desert—or rather, they refuse to stray far from the Dafang Pot."
The duty of defending the Dafang Pot was etched into the very instincts of the Three Corpse Worms; they could not betray it even in death. A similar loyalty existed within ant colonies and beehives, where worker bees and worker ants toiled without complaint, devoid of hesitation or fear, willingly laying down their lives.
Thus, even though the Three Corpse Worms dreaded something here and dared not enter the city, they lingered along the periphery—the Panlong Desert—unwilling to flee.
He Lingchuan shrugged. If the Three Corpse Worms could be interrogated under torture like ordinary creatures, the allied forces of Baling and Xianyou would have extracted every secret regarding the Dafang Pot and Panlong City long ago. The deity behind Panlong City would never have permitted such a glaring flaw to exist.
"Though Zhu Gen never spoke of it, it seems to me that the conditions required to trigger the wild sand season shouldn't be difficult. The last team he sent was also meant to test a hypothesis..." Sun Fuping pondered aloud. "Before every wild sand season arrives, is the desert always struck by thunderstorms?"
Zeng Feixiong nodded. "Indeed."
Sun Fuping's gaze flickered slightly. "The divine temple in the city—does it enshrine only God Mitian?"
"Yes. It's said Heavenly God Mitian was the sole faith of Panlong City."
He Chunhua let out a soft exclamation of realization. "Could you mean...?"
"Write it down, and let us compare."
With that, Sun Fuping and He Chunhua each dipped a finger in water and wrote a character on the table.
The onlookers leaned in to look. The National Preceptor had written "Water," while He Chunhua had penned "Rain."
The literal meanings were nearly identical.
He Lingchuan stroked his chin and said, "Brilliant, National Preceptor! Old Man! The rainy season in Qiansong Commandery arrives later than in the interior, usually not until late August or early September."
Nian Songyu frowned in confusion. "If it's brought on by rainfall, does it mean it never rains in the desert normally?" As far as he knew, a lack of water did not mean a desert never saw rain. "Sometimes torrential downpours can even trigger flash floods in a desert."
"It truly doesn't rain," He Lingchuan chuckled. "Don't compare other deserts to Panlong. They aren't worthy."
He Chunhua said, "How could I match the National Preceptor's vast learning? However, Vice Commandant Zeng's father is the only living person to have survived the wild sand season within the Panlong Desert. Though his wits have been muddled ever since his return, the word 'water' is on his lips all day long. I believe that is the crucial clue."
Chapter 36