Where Immortals Once Walked

He Lingchuan’s roar rang out across the deck, “Kill them! Don’t hold back!”

There was no time to hesitate. They could not look back or retreat, but that did not mean they were powerless. Nothing was forcing them to remain mere spectators. Was this really the time to be clinging to camaraderie?

Everyone had only been stunned for a moment. His shout was like a thunderclap that boomed in everyone’s minds, snapping them back to their senses. Gritting their teeth, they raised their blades and axes against their comrades who were now possessed.

In moments like these, one’s own life comes first; brotherhood and camaraderie would have to wait.

It was not long before the puppets were all slain. The Three Corpses Worms that had taken over their bodies were forced out before they could even warm their hosts.

By then, the walnut boats had already passed through the city gate and were gliding among the ruins of the ancient city, winding through fractured structures and shifting shadows. Some of the Three Corpses Worms managed to slink back into the dark, but the last few were not so lucky. When forced out into the open, they were caught under direct sunlight.

And that was their end. The instant sunlight touched their smoky forms, they disintegrated without a trace.

Without flesh to shield them, the blazing sun was their natural enemy.

The ancient city they were currently in was not large, and buildings were sparse. Soon, the walnut boats had left all remnants of walls behind, drifting once more among the desert dunes.

With the sun above them, the group finally allowed themselves to exhale. They could look back now.

From another boat, Nian Songyu’s voice called out a reminder, “Throw the bodies overboard to lighten the load! We need to move faster!”

Night would soon be upon them, so they had to hurry.

The bodies strewn across the deck had once been comrades-in-arms. Those still living stood silently for a long while before beginning to retrieve food, water, and weapons from the dead.

Supplies were too precious to waste.

One of He Chunhua’s personal guards had died with his eyes wide open. He Lingchuan walked over and gently closed them.

He Chunhua gave a heavy sigh. “His name was Zhao Shaogang. He was with me for five years and has done a great many things for me.”

“I know. I remember.” He Lingchuan pressed his lips together as he rummaged through Zhao Shaogang’s belongings, pulling out one final pouch of hard flatbread, one last flask of water, and a plain silver hairpin.

He had been the one to kill him.

“This hairpin...” He Chunhua began to speak, perhaps to reminisce.

However, He Lingchuan cut him off, “The dead are like extinguished lamps. There’s no point in saying more. His family will be well compensated.”

Every living man carried his own story, but so what? They were all being paid to risk their lives.

He Chunhua fell silent, then patted his son on the shoulder. “You’re right.”

Now was not the time to wallow in sentiment.

He held up a broken comb in his left hand. “I thought the resentment clinging to this thing would drive off those ghastly things, but it seems that I was wrong.”

This comb had been the cause of all their trouble, yet it had been useless in the desert.

He Chunhua was clearly disappointed.

He Lingchuan cast a furtive glance at him. “Maybe we just used it wrong?” The divine bone amulet by his chest was another kind of keepsake, and it might even be the most important one, but no one else knew that.

Come to think of it, the amulet hasn’t shown any remarkable effects so far. Could it be that the trigger condition just hasn’t been met yet?

He shoved Zhao Shaogang’s corpse overboard. Below them was a vast basin, rimmed in black stone. It had once been a pool, but it had long since dried up.

A sand burial had always been the tradition of Heishui City and the Panlong Desert.

He heard the muffled thuds as the bodies hit the ground below. He looked down at the bloodstains on his own arm—reminders of the killing and looting that he had carried out earlier—and felt a tightness in his chest.

Strictly speaking, this was the first time he had taken a life since becoming He Lingchuan. And the man he had slain was his father’s trusted guard.

He had known Zhao Shaogang. They had chatted before, and they had even laughed together.

At the time, the situation had been too urgent for hesitation. But now that it had passed, a quiet unease crept into his heart.

“You alright?” He Chunhua asked, noticing that he had not lifted his head.

“Mm, just a little seasick,” He Lingchuan muttered, raising his water flask and taking a long swig, forcing down the nausea and the stifling weight in his chest.

Killing a fellow human was not like slaughtering chickens or dogs. The fact that he had not retched over the side of the boat surprised even himself.

Since arriving in this world, it felt like something inside him had hardened.

What was it that was subtly changing him?

On the other end of the deck, Situ Han was quietly packing up, eyes rimmed red. One of the sand bandits had been possessed, and he had been the one to cut him down.

They had once pillaged treasures together, stolen women side by side. Just days ago, they had gotten drunk and fallen asleep toe to toe. Now the man’s body was still warm, yet he had already passed, so Situ Han had to throw his body overboard.

Moreover, everyone knew that this would not be the last time an event such as this would take place. On the path ahead, such incidents would likely occur more frequently.

This was just the beginning.

He Lingchuan took a few slow, silent breaths to steady himself, then leaned in toward He Chunhua and murmured, “State Preceptor Sun’s boat had the fewest casualties.” His boat had the fewest bodies tossed overboard.

“There’s no such thing as fairness in this world,” He Chunhua replied calmly.

Once a Three Corpses Worm possessed someone, they became a puppet. Aside from the Panlong City campaign in days past, no one had ever devised an effective way to save them. Toward the end of the siege, the State of Xianyou had reportedly developed a few treatments, but they were costly, time-consuming, and labor-intensive. At best, only two in ten could be saved, and even then, it took three to five full days per case.

Three Corpses Worms were parasites that originally dwelt dormant in the human body. For any spellcaster to attain enlightenment, their very first trial was to slay their own Three Corpses Worms. Trying to expel them by other means was nearly impossible.

And once a host was taken over, they would descend into madness. There was no way to restrain them peacefully.

That was why Nian Songyu and the other decision makers had long agreed that the moment someone was possessed aboard ship, there could be no hesitation. They were to act fast and cut clean. They could not afford to take any risks.

Every one of the possessed would become a massive burden. They simply could not afford the cost in time, effort, or lives.

He Chunhua shook his head, dismissing the troublesome thoughts plaguing his mind. Then, he patted his son’s shoulder and said, “Good thing you acted when you did back there. You saved more than a few lives. By the way, when did your knife-throwing get so accurate?”

That throw earlier had flown past his own shoulder, dead on target.

This disappointing son of his had just saved his life and helped suppress a crisis. He had come a long way.

Commandery Administrator He was greatly comforted.

“My aim? Uh...” He Lingchuan scratched his head awkwardly. “Just now, I guess? It was a heat-of-the-moment thing.”

He Chunhua: “...”

* * *

Maybe it was the power of prophecy in He Lingchuan’s offhand remark, but sure enough, the other two boats encountered no further trouble. It was only State Preceptor Sun’s walnut boat that received some very unwelcome visitors...

Two giant violet-gold toads.

These were no ordinary beasts. They were mutated monsters. They were giant toads a hundred times larger than their mundane kin, and every bit as monstrous in behavior as in size. Their attacks consisted of launching long, whip-like tongues to snatch up prey, which they swallowed whole.

The toads had leaped from the dunes like small hills in motion, slamming down hard enough to nearly capsize the walnut boat. The sand wyrms pulling the vessel reared in panic, almost causing the boat to come to a complete stop.

These violet-gold toads hunted people the same way ordinary toads hunt flies—snatch, stuff, swallow. Sometimes, they would even lift their forelimbs to help shove victims into their mouths, gulping them down without so much as a chew.

Worse still, whenever these violet-gold toads engaged enemies, the warts on their bodies would rupture, releasing a noxious, shimmering mist tinged violet and gold. Anyone who inhaled it would be reeling within seconds, falling dizzy, drooling, and collapsing in spasms.

That was how they had earned their name.

Fortunately, their feeding pace was slow. Each meal took time. The snatched victims were chewed over and over and swallowed gradually, and this gave State Preceptor Sun and those with him the window they needed to fight back.

Meanwhile, the He father and son were stranded on another boat, too far to help. All they could do was watch from afar.