Turbulent miasma permeates the heavens and earth, accumulating more and more, impossible to dispel.
The sky turns somber, the surrounding cold akin to deep winter.
Under this, the old village chiefâs face turns blue again, his life force being eroded quickly under the miasmaâs shroud, soon to be on the brink of death.
Song Changping sees this, his figure moves, lifting the old village chief and flying into the village.
His sudden appearance causes the whole village to panic.
They had just watched the fierce battle in the sky from a distance, knowing deeply that with one thought from this man, their whole village would perish.
Song Changpingâs gaze sweeps over all the villagers, his eerie green eyes making everyone shiver, frozen in place.
"If you want to survive, take the villagers away from this place quickly."
Song Changping drops this line, then flies away.
"Grandpa!" A Li regains his senses, first supporting the old village chief.
"Heâs right, hurry, take everyone and leave! Donât take anything!" The old village chief takes a breath and says immediately.
If they donât leave now, once that thorough ice cold engulfs the village, they wonât survive.
"Grandpa, Iâll carry you!"
As the villagers evacuate, Song Changmingâs gaze remains fixed on the mountainâs interior.
From the crack, apart from miasma, no other undead corpses crawl out.
Trying to acquire the Corpse Transformation Technique from the undead corpses seems difficult.
Even after chopping that undead corpse, it showed no willingness to reveal the secrets.
Since itâs so, ultimately he must descend into this gloomy ancient tomb.
He isnât sure if there are other undead corpses within the tomb, the seven that emerged might not be all.
"You didnât mention there were living undead corpses here before," Song Changming speaks.
As if sensing the battle outside had ended, Xiaojin pokes out its head, waving its whiskers.
"There truly werenât before, I guarantee, these undead corpses possibly appeared only in recent centuries..."
Mountain Ginseng Spirit quickly explains on its behalf, the sudden appearance of undead corpses, and the captive Xiaoye Village, were outside its intel.
It also fears Song Changming would lose trust in it, suddenly going beastly, swallowing it whole which would be truly disastrous.
Song Changming says no more.
In a century, a place can undergo earth-shattering changes, itâs possible someone found the tomb before him, successfully transforming into an undead corpse.
At least the Mountain Ginseng Spirit led them to the right place, as long as the Corpse Transformation Technique inside is correct.
"Enough," Song Changming sees Mountain Ginseng Spirit still explaining, interrupts.
"Hide in the iron box."
This specialized iron box for containing Mountain Ginseng Spirit, he later purchased from the Celestial Treasure Pavilion.
It has Runes of âConcealmentâ and âLocking Objectâ and other engraved symbols functioning.
Itâs an actual talisman, of decent quality, though not as pricey as Qiankun Bag, still costing dozens of middle-grade Spirit Crystals to acquire.
The Concealment Rune allows obscure detection of whatâs inside the iron box.
The Locking Talisman is like a password lock, only Song Changming can open it freely, without his permission, the Mountain Ginseng Spirit canât escape the iron box.
With this talisman, the Spirit Locking Talisman pasted on Mountain Ginseng Spirit is essentially redundant.
The Mountain Ginseng Spirit obediently closes the iron box, no longer showing its head.
Afterward, with his two brothers, Song Changming moves, descending into the rising miasma, entering the cracked mountain interior.
Perception shows the concentration of Yin energy inside reaches its peak.
As if even his released Spiritual Power would be frozen inside, limiting his sensing range.
Incidentally, Song Changping and Song Changâan, both inherently Corpse Puppets, in this place, feel like home, extremely comfortable.
"Weâve arrived!"
With limited Spiritual Power, Song Changming directly uses his eyes for observation.
His fiery eyes shine brightly, like two large bulbs in the pervasive Yin energy.
This underground ancient tomb is actually not complex, relatively simple constructed.
The surrounding rocky walls are rough, in some corners, Song Changming sees the traces of engraved runes.
Evidently, sufficient sturdiness is needed for such a vast ancient tomb to remain uncollapsed underground for years.
Looking afar, it roughly resembles a football field-sized underground space.
Inside the space, there are stone-paved corridors, dried-out river channels alongside the corridors.
Corridors extend, at the very end, in darkness, stands a high platform.
On the platform, lies a coffin.
The coffin is four to five meters long, much larger than ordinary coffins.
Song Changmingâs focus quickly falls before the coffin, where a silhouette sits cross-legged.
"Trespassers, die!"
The silhouette suddenly speaks, its voice muffled and resonant, echoing throughout the ancient tomb.
"Only this one undead corpse left," Song Changâan surveys around, murmuring.
Better than anticipated.
Additionally, he notices the half undead corpse that returned to the tomb earlier now lies within the dried river channel, motionless, mysteriously dead.
Furthermore, he observes the dark red hue within several river channels, as if not underground rivers but deep crimson blood once flowed.
One after another, ghastly white bones, like rubbish, scattered and piled within.
Threads of Yin energy spiral around the bones as the undead corpseâs words fall.