Star Martial Soaring Cloud

The fact that such a vast island has no native inhabitants is a chilling thing.

Now that the presence of indigenous people has been confirmed, this fear has not subsided but has instead intensified.

Where did they go?

No smoke rises from distant chimneys, and the surrounding area is utterly empty.

Wang Xiaoli stood in the middle of the street, looking around.

Dilapidated houses, brand-new objects; a deathly silent city, a living array.

All of this exudes an inexplicable and eerie atmosphere.

"Let's go, let's take another look ahead," he said in a deep voice to the two people beside him.

The three continued deeper into the area.

The city was extremely large; it took them nearly half an hour to walk from the outer city into the inner city.

All I saw along the way was the same kind of scenery.

The houses were dilapidated and ruined, but the objects were brand new. The whole city was deathly silent, without a single person or any sign of life.

The streets were littered with signs of haste—half-open wooden doors, overturned wooden chairs, and ceramic bowls and plates scattered on the ground…

As if a tremendous upheaval had suddenly occurred, the people of the city fled in panic, never to return.

But what kind of unexpected event could cause the entire city to disappear at the same time?

Miasma? War? Plague?

Or... some other terrifying reason?

But no matter which one it is, there will always be some clues left behind. How could you not find any clues at all?

Wang Xiao dared not think any further.

The three stopped at a square.

The square is spacious and paved with neat bluestone slabs, with waist-high weeds growing in the gaps between the slabs.

In its center stands a tall stone platform, upon which stands a thick stone pillar, its shaft carved with intricate patterns, resembling some kind of ancient totem.

At the top of the stone pillar is a circular groove, which is completely empty.

Around the square stood several tall buildings, which, judging from their layout and location, were likely the city's government offices, ancestral temples, or council halls.

Although the building is old and dilapidated, its overall structure is still relatively intact, and the glazed tiles on the roof gleam with a dull luster in the sunlight.

Wang Xiao walked to the stone platform and looked up at the stone pillar.

The pillar is covered with intricate patterns, depicting figures, mythical beasts, mountains and rivers, and the sun, moon and stars, as if telling an ancient story.

Unfortunately, due to the passage of time, many details have become blurred and unclear, and only the general outline can be seen.

"This stone pillar..." Su Qinhe walked to his side, her gaze fixed on the patterns on the pillar, "It looks like some kind of ritual object used in sacrifices."

"Or it could be the foundation of an array." Yan Zixi also came closer, reaching out to run her hand across the surface of the stone pillar, her fingertips touching the uneven patterns. "Some of these patterns are extremely similar to the runes of a teleportation array."

Just as Wang Xiao was about to speak, a voice suddenly broke the deathly silence.

"Tap, tap, tap."

Footsteps echoed from the depths of the street at the other end of the square, approaching and reverberating through the empty city.

Every step was taken to the same beat, neat, regular, and mechanical, as if an invisible army was drilling, or as if someone was performing some ancient and solemn ceremony.

In a deserted place, human voices could be heard.

Wang Xiao felt a chill run down his spine. As he listened to the approaching footsteps, a coldness shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, chilling him to the bone.

There was not a trace of human warmth in that voice.

There was no breathing, no conversation, no sound of armor rubbing together, only the sound of footsteps—pure, mechanical, emotionless footsteps.

It was as if something was imitating human steps, but the imitation was so deliberate that it exposed its inhuman nature.

Su Qinhe's jade flute was already held to her lips, its body shimmering with a faint spiritual light.

Lightning flickered around Yan Zixi, and an unusual solemnity appeared on her face. Four spiritual flowers quietly appeared beside her, with the purple lightning flower being the most dazzling. Fine arcs of electricity danced between the petals, making a crackling sound.

But that faint sound was quickly drowned out by the approaching footsteps.

"Tap, tap, tap."

The footsteps grew closer.

At the other end of the street on the other side of the square, there was a thick, impenetrable shadow.

Sunlight is swallowed up as soon as it reaches its edge, not a single ray can penetrate.

Wang Xiao extended his divine sense, but it was as if he had bumped into an invisible, solid wall and was forcefully bounced back.

He could not sense anything—no breath of life, no fluctuation of vital energy, and even the shadow itself seemed like a huge, empty void.

But the footsteps were clearly coming from the shadows, getting closer and closer.

The three instinctively moved closer together, their eyes fixed on the direction from which the footsteps were coming.

From the shadows, silhouettes gradually emerged.

Human silhouette.

A dense array of human-shaped silhouettes.

They emerged slowly from the shadows in neat rows and with synchronized steps.

Wang Xiao finally saw what they looked like, but wished he had never seen them at all.

Under the clear blue sky, in broad daylight, they unexpectedly encountered ghostly soldiers passing through their path.

army.

An army of the dead is emerging from the shadows.

Wang Xiao glanced around and saw at least two hundred people. His pupils suddenly contracted, and the sight before him made his heart pound uncontrollably.

In the no-fly zone of the ancient city, these "people" floated in mid-air, their feet not touching the ground, about a foot above the ground, yet each step they took produced a perfectly synchronized sound.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

Every step felt like walking on empty air, yet heavier than stepping on solid ground.

The sound didn't seem to originate from beneath their feet; instead, it surged in from all directions simultaneously, enveloping the three of them firmly in the center of the sonic wave.

They don't belong to this world!!!

The three of them could clearly sense this.

Although their silhouettes are clearly defined, they exude a strong sense of illusion, like reflections in water, like phantoms in a mirror, or like smoke that will dissipate with a gust of wind.

At the same time, they were terrifyingly clear; the three could clearly see the bluish-gray skin and the fine scratches on the armor.

This extreme contradiction sent chills down the spines of the three of them.

They were dressed in tattered armor of ancient style, some resembling the style of Kyushu, while others were styles that Wang Xiao and his companions had never seen before and did not recognize.

The armor was covered with marks from sword cuts and slashes, and in some places it was even pierced through, revealing the bluish-gray "body" inside.

They held rusty spears and shields in their hands, the spear tips were dull and the shields were full of cracks, but they were still held tightly, as if they would never let go.

The ghost soldiers had eerie bluish-gray skin, expressionless faces, tightly closed lips, high cheekbones, and deep-set eyes.

And those eyes...

If they can still be called eyes, they are like two hollowed-out glass beads, devoid of any luster or vitality.

He was watching Wang Xiao and the other two.

No, it's not about watching.

They had no pupils, no vision, but Wang Xiao could sense that something was watching them from those empty eye sockets.

His cold gaze felt like countless needles pricking his skin, making him shiver involuntarily.

"The ghostly soldiers borrowed a path..." Su Qinhe's voice was extremely low, with a hint of shock, "I had seen records of this in ancient books, but I never thought I would actually encounter it with my own eyes."

Faced with such a strange event, it was impossible for the three of them not to be on guard, nor was it possible for them not to harbor any hostility.

A trace of their aura naturally leaked out.

It was this aura that made the ghost soldiers feel as if they had been stung by something, causing them to pause in unison.

The next second, a deafening roar erupted.

The roar didn't come from the throat; instead, it was like an invisible shockwave surging in from all directions, sharp and piercing, as if countless people were crying, screaming, and cursing at the same time.

Immediately afterwards, the ghostly soldiers moved.

They surged towards the three like a tidal wave, moving at an astonishing speed. One moment they were dozens of feet away, and the next they were right in front of them.

Wang Xiao didn't have time to think, he unleashed all his physical strength and threw a punch!

The fist whistled through the air, carrying the power to split mountains and shatter rocks, and slammed hard into the Yin soldier in the front row.

The ghost soldier's body was blasted to pieces by the force of the punch, turning into a cloud of gray-black smoke that scattered in all directions.

But Wang Xiao's face showed no joy. When his fist passed through the Yin soldier's body, he did not feel any resistance. There was no contact with flesh and blood, no hardness of bones, and not even the slightest tremor of colliding energy. It was as if he had just hit a void.

Although the ghostly soldier shattered, the shattering was so solid that it felt as if he had merely broken a wisp of rootless smoke.

As Su Qinhe's flute music began, a sharp note burst forth from the flute hole, transforming into a gleaming white sword that slashed fiercely at another approaching Yin soldier.

The lightsaber cleaved the ghostly soldier in two, and the two halves of the "body" turned into black smoke and dissipated into the air.

Yan Zixi's Thunder Dragon also roared out, and purple lightning exploded in the group of Yin soldiers, blasting seven or eight Yin soldiers into pieces at the same time. The Yin soldiers dissipated and turned into black smoke, scattering in all directions.

The three exchanged a glance, and each saw unease in the other's eyes.

"Something's not right." Yan Zixi's voice tightened. "I clearly felt like I hit them, but it also felt like I didn't touch anything at all!"

Before they could think it through, even more ghostly soldiers surged in like a tide.

Wang Xiao gritted his teeth and threw punch after punch, each punch carrying the ultimate power of his physical body.

Su Qinhe's flute playing grew increasingly urgent, the notes pouring out like a torrential rain, sweeping away the approaching ghostly soldiers one by one.

Yan Zixi's four spiritual flowers bloomed in full, and she unleashed her four supernatural powers of fire, water, earth, and thunder in turn. Thunder and fire clashed, water surged, and earthen walls stood in place, firmly protecting the three of them in the center.

The battle lasted for a while, and all two hundred ghost soldiers were defeated.

But something even stranger happened.

The black mist formed from the defeated Yin soldiers did not dissipate. Instead, it swirled and gathered in mid-air, and within a few breaths, it reformed into complete Yin soldiers.

The expressions on their faces changed instantly.

Because these newly formed ghost soldiers are completely different from the previous ones.

Their armor was no longer an illusory afterimage, but covered with a cold metallic luster; their spears were no longer rusty illusions, but their tips faintly gleamed with a chilling light; even their faces had faint outlines, not the expressions of living people, but a twisted and painful look between life and death.

They have become more real, more flesh and blood, and are slowly recovering from nothingness.

"Don't you guys feel it?" Su Qinhe's voice trembled, "It's like they've...come back to life?"

Wang Xiao stared intently at the figures that were re-forming, a chilling thought flashing through his mind.

"It didn't come back to life, it just ate its fill."

Yan Zixi turned to look at him, her eyes filled with shock: "What do you mean?"

"If I'm not mistaken, they've absorbed our attacks!" Wang Xiao spoke rapidly, his gaze fixed on the ghostly soldiers. "Every attack we make is feeding them. The more they eat, the more real and powerful they become. If we keep fighting, they might actually come back to life!"

"What?!"

Su Qinhe finally understood why those Yin soldiers became even more solid after being shattered.

"Then what do we do?" Yan Zixi's voice was tinged with urgency. "If we don't fight, they'll tear us apart; if we fight, they'll only get stronger. Isn't this a dead end?"

Wang Xiao did not answer, his mind churning with speculation.

A ghostly soldier, who had just completed its reorganization and was still slightly solidifying, rushed towards them.

Wang Xiao unleashed the Seven Star Rain Steps, his figure flashing out like a ghost, dodging the attacks of the surrounding Yin soldiers. He concentrated his vital energy in his right fist, and with a whooshing sound, slammed it hard into the head of the Yin soldier.

With a "bang," the ghost soldier's head exploded into a thick cloud of black mist, and his body disintegrated on the ground.

However, this black mist condensed even faster than before, and to the astonishment of the three, it reformed into a new form.

This time, its bluish-gray skin even exuded a cold realism, and a faint scarlet light flashed in its empty eye sockets.

It looks even more realistic than before.

When their suspicions were confirmed, the three of them felt their hearts sink to the bottom.

The ghostly soldiers surged forth again, this time faster, more powerful, and with even more fluid movements.

Those re-formed ghost soldiers were no longer illusory smoke, but had real forms, and they were about to grow flesh and blood.

Wang Xiao punched another ghost soldier in the chest. This time, he clearly felt resistance, not the softness of flesh and blood, but the cold, hard texture of stone.

The ghostly soldier was blasted back several steps, but it did not shatter.

It lowered its head, looked at the dent in its chest caused by the blast, and then raised its head again, "looking" at Wang Xiao with its empty eyes.

Then, it laughed.

That smile wasn't friendly, but rather... hungry.

Like a wild beast that has been lying in wait for a long time and finally smelled the scent of its prey, it suddenly revealed its cold fangs.

"retreat!"

Wang Xiao shouted sternly, circulating all his vital energy.

The three retreated simultaneously, attempting to break through to the edge of the square.

But the ghost soldiers were faster than them, and countless figures surged in from all directions, completely blocking the three's escape route.

The ghostly soldiers continued to evolve, and they began to unleash vague yet orderly moves, including slashing with swords, thrusting with spears, and pounding with fists. Even faint traces of supernatural powers began to emerge around them.

They're not just becoming more realistic; they're also "learning" to fight.

"These things were all cultivators in their previous lives!" Su Qinhe exclaimed in shock, the defensive notes played on her jade flute faltering. "They're regaining their memories and instincts from their past lives!"

The number of ghost soldiers in the square remained at over two hundred, but each one was as solid as a living person. The moves of the cultivators in their previous lives were becoming more and more skillful, and some ghost soldiers had already raised their hands to release a wisp of spiritual light, their supernatural aura growing stronger and stronger.

"We must find a solution!" Yan Zixi's voice was filled with urgency. "There must be something we haven't noticed!"

The three of them stood back to back, pressed tightly together, and could clearly feel the chill emanating from each other.

If all these ghost soldiers were to be resurrected, they would no longer be facing a group of mindless puppets, but an army of hundreds of cultivators.

What's even more terrifying is that every attack they launch is essentially "feeding" the enemy.

The more they fight, the stronger the enemy becomes; the more they expend energy, the more the enemy grows.

For them, this was a battle they were destined to die in.

It is not the enemy who dies, but they who perish.