General Red continued, "Strictly speaking, there are only two sets of celestial god remains here—the two with legs. All the others belong to servant clans."
General Nan Ke asked curiously, "Servant clans?"
"They are the attendants and armies of the celestial gods. Their entire purpose is to serve the deities."
General Red casually snapped off a finger bone, sliced across the cross section, and examined it. Standing to the side, He Lingchuan saw that the interior of the bone was actually still pale red.
After three thousand years, not even ash would remain of mortal bones, yet these divine remains still retained their vitality. Incredible.
General Red nodded in satisfaction. "These likely fell into water and never saw direct light. Later, as the mountains and rivers shifted, the water vanished and they were buried deep underground, allowing their vitality to be preserved to this day."
He Lingchuan took the opportunity to ask, "Do divine remains also fear sunlight?"
"Not for short periods, of course, but the power of True Solar Fire lies in its constancy," General Red replied. "These divine remains were fundamentally foreign to this world to begin with. Subjected to the wind and sun for hundreds or thousands of years, their vitality would be whittled away bit by bit."
She added, "Though that only applies to lesser deities. As for the most powerful higher gods, they are existences that are exceedingly difficult to obliterate."
General Nan Ke voiced the question lingering in everyone's mind: "Just how many gods are there beyond the heavens?"
A single ruin of Bei City contained this many divine remains.
"Five thousand years ago, fewer than a hundred thousand. The war that destroyed the world reduced that by at least half. As for now, generous estimates still put it under a hundred and forty to fifty thousand."
"In the three thousand years from the Great Cataclysm of world destruction until now, they've only produced a hundred thousand celestial gods?" General Nan Ke shook his head. "Too poor. Far too poor."
A hundred thousand celestial gods sounded like a lot, but spread across three thousand years, that amounted to barely over thirty new celestial gods a year.
If human fertility were that absurdly low, extinction wouldn't be far off, would it?
The soldiers all chuckled.
General Red seemed to smile as well. "And in these three thousand years, how many humans have proliferated in this world?"
"Uh..."
"Not as many as you'd imagine, right?"
Yet that was because of wars, plagues, and other natural disasters. The human capacity to reproduce was never in question.
Before General Nan Ke could retort, General Red continued, "Celestial gods possess immense lifespans, and conceiving offspring is correspondingly difficult. The vitality and energy required are staggering—nothing like humans, who can give birth whenever they wish. An increase of a hundred thousand celestial gods in three thousand years? Heh, that is largely thanks to the contributions of the mortal realm."
In that final remark, He Lingchuan heard dripping sarcasm.
Just then, an artisan came to report:
"The tree roots and bones have grown into one another."
The roots of the old locust tree were tangled with the divine remains, some even embedded within the bone, indistinguishable from each other.
Those fine rootlets looked... remarkably like capillaries.
Through the roots, the curled divine remains were tightly bound to the old dragon-claw locust tree growing overhead.
General Red did not order them to pry them apart by force. Instead, she gently stroked the roots and murmured, "Interesting. The locust tree is actually drawing nutrients from the divine remains."
"The power of deities was originally impossible for creatures of this realm to utilize. Only when nightmare energy appeared was that barrier broken..." She smiled faintly. "This tree monster thought it had found a great bargain, when in truth it was subtly falling under the control of the divine remains. In seventy or eighty years at most, this locust tree would have become the remains' second body. If Xiji's dynasty had lasted that long, it would have faced disaster as well."
"Does consciousness still linger within the divine remains?"
"Years after a celestial god dies, a new consciousness can sometimes be born within the husk," General Red explained. "In the past, that only occurred with the most powerful remains. But now, with times changed, who can say for sure?"
"Excavate all the divine remains and take them away. As for this tree—" She jumped up and tapped the trunk. "Leave half the stump buried in the dirt, and fell the rest to take with us."
The artisans looked troubled. "General, our tools aren't up to the task."
This old tree was simply too hard; their tools snapped with the slightest pry.
General Red pointed to the roots at the bottom of the pit. "Sever the taproots, then try again."
He Lingchuan cut through two taproots. When the artisans tried once more, the tree was indeed much easier to chop.
The locust tree possessed sentience and no longer dared oppose General Red.
As everyone worked fervently, General Nan Ke quietly asked General Red, "What will you use these for once we bring them back?"
"To forge a treasure—a lethal one," General Red said with a smile. "Even the locust wood can be used; this is truly an unexpected pleasant surprise."
He Lingchuan and his companions chopped wood while casting a few glances in her direction.
When General Red and Zhong Shengguang plotted to attack Xiji, had they come for these divine remains in addition to tackling the vicious predicament Beijia posed?
What did she want to do with them?
To go to such great lengths—dispatching an army on a long-distance raid and fighting a war of conquest just to get their hands on these divine remains—the "treasure" General Red intended to forge was certainly no ordinary item.
He could sense that as time passed, Panlong City's entanglements with the gods and with Beijia were growing ever deeper.
***
A rainy night, a narrow ravine.
The mountain forest had been desolate all night. Wild grass dripped in the rain, with timid snails clinging to the base of the stems. Suddenly, a dozen or so people sprinted into the gorge, caked in mud from head to toe.
The wild grass was trampled down, and a snail was crushed to pieces with a wet crunch. Yet such a tiny noise was easily drowned out by the pattering of the rainy night and the heavy, ox-like panting of the group.
They bolted through the darkness, but the valley was strewn with jagged rocks, making every step an uneven stumble. One unlucky fellow cried out in pain as he twisted his ankle.
"Hurry, keep moving! The monster is catching up!"
"Why did we come into the mountains?!"
"Idiot, the mountains are better!" the last man cursed. "Hurry and find a cave to hide in!"
Yet their luck was truly terrible. After searching several nooks and crannies, let alone a cave, they couldn't even find a shallow hollow in the hillside.
The one who had sprained his ankle grew frantic. "Gods help me, this is Mount Niutou! There's only one hollow halfway up the mountain; there's nowhere to hide! What do we do?"
The few supporting him said nothing, exchanging glances.
What else could they do? If the monster caught up, they would ditch this limping deadweight and run.
That might buy them a little more time.
Just then, a companion pointed ahead and shouted, "Look, look! There's light ahead! Light!"
Everyone strained their eyes, and indeed there was.
In the distance were two spots of orange light. They were positioned high up, likely halfway up the mountain, swaying in the wind and rain.
Against the ink-black darkness, they stood out starkly.
Where there was light, there should be people.
The limping man was bewildered. "I've been to Mount Niutou many times. How could anyone live there?"
"Quick, get over there!" Overjoyed, the men ignored him completely. "That's at least a hundred—no, two hundred zhang away!"
The mountain path was rough, and they still had to climb.
Most importantly, they were dragging a burden.
In tacit agreement, they simultaneously abandoned their injured companion and strode forward toward the light.
"Don't leave me!" the unlucky man cried. Seeing no one cared, he cast bait. "I still have two hundred taels of silver! Whoever helps me over gets it!"
Two hundred taels? One man paused, hesitating slightly, but his companions ran without looking back.
Right, who would believe this idiot had two hundred taels? At noon, he wouldn't even splurge on meat for his steamed bun. Spitting on the ground, the man sprinted after the others.
"Run!" Everyone feared the injured man's shouts would attract the monster. Several tripped and fell, but didn't dare waste a second, scrambling to their feet to keep running.
Behind them, the unlucky man's cries for help grew fainter, soon swallowed by the howling wind and rain.
It was an obstacle course. In the dead of night, the dozen or so men risked life and limb to wade through the field of jagged boulders, scrambling on all fours until they reached the mountainside.
At last, they found the source of the light.
Beneath an overhanging eagle-beak crag lay a vast, deep cave roughly ten zhang across. The ground sloped upward the deeper it went, and the depths were pitch-black, impossible to see into.
The two orange glows they had seen turned out to be wind-defying lanterns mounted on long bamboo poles outside the cave entrance.
The poles were very long and swayed in the wind, which made the lanterns flicker erratically from a distance.
These fugitives had no time to wonder why the lanterns had been placed there, for roars echoed from behind.
Glancing back, they saw several dark shapes weaving through the jagged rocks.
The monsters had caught up!
"Quick, get inside!" Flustered and panicked, they rushed into the cave.
Inside were several small cottages, all lit with lamplight, with human shadows shifting within. The exterior walls of the houses were coated in a thick layer of mud.
The crowd rushed forward and banged on the door. "Open up! Help!"
After just two knocks, the door swung open.
They poked their heads inside. Huh, no one?
Where had the shadows projected on the windows just gone?
There was no time to think. They rushed inside, bolted the door, and blew out the lamp on the table.
The walls felt solid to the touch, as if rammed from composite earth, and the door was also coated in thick mud—once shut, the seam of the door was almost invisible.
Soon, pattering footsteps sounded outside, followed by the sound of monsters clawing at the dirt.
Everyone held their breath.
Then the monsters began scratching at the door, making a harsh, grating rasp.
Suddenly, with a sharp snap, the lamp on the table lit up.
Everyone jumped in fright, but turning around, there was no one beside the table.
The lamp had lit by itself!
The monsters outside paused for an instant, then were immediately drawn by the light. Gathering at the door, they shoved violently against it.
The men rushed over and threw their weight against the door to brace it.
As for the windows, they were too small; the monsters shouldn't be able to fit through.
Yet they could not hold out for long. An irresistible force surged through, and with a creak—
The door gave way.
There was no longer any barrier between monsters and men.
Immediately, angry roars, bloodcurdling screams, and feral howls erupted within the house, accompanied by the crashing and thudding of overturned furniture.
Blood splattered against the paper windowpanes.
The door shut again silently, unnoticed by the creatures inside.
Soon, crunching, grinding noises came from within.
The mountain wind grew fiercer, violently swaying the two long bamboo poles outside the cave.
The valley returned to its former stillness.
Since there were no other visitors, before the next great gust of wind swept through, the lanterns beneath the crag extinguished themselves.
Heaven and earth remained silent, all swallowed by the sound of rain.
***
Chiyan Kingdom, Shuangyi City.
When He Lingchuan arrived, the daylight was still early. Seeing only two main streets within the city, its prosperity was more than a notch below that of the Jeweled Tree King's territory.
Chapter 443