What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

Qianji was already injured and unable to move easily, and it looked like he was about to be pierced by the sharp spider spear.

"Get out of the way!"

Tie Zhu roared, ignoring his injuries, and smashed into Qian Ji, using his Vajra Body to withstand the attack.

clang!

The spider spear pierced the iron pillar's shoulder, producing a crisp metallic clang.

Although it didn't pierce through, the enormous impact sent the iron pillar flying, crashing heavily onto the stone tablet and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

At the same time, the scalpel slipped from my hand.

But instead of shooting directly at the spider, I shot at the lamp slave above its head.

Ding!

The lancet struck the lamp slave's chains, sparks flying.

The heavy bronze lamp fell with a thud, landing squarely on the back of the spider-faced creature.

boom!

The spider staggered from the impact, its movements slowing slightly.

It was in that very moment.

"go!"

With a thought, the black bone needle that had been hovering over my sleeve vanished instantly.

The next second, it appeared between the eyebrows of the human-faced spider's face.

Without any resistance, the bone needle pierced its skull in an instant.

The human-faced spider let out a piercing scream, its massive body convulsed violently a few times, and then it collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Green slime oozed from its wound, emitting a foul stench.

"Are you alright?"

Lu Yan rushed over and helped Tie Zhu up.

"Cough cough... I won't die."

Tie Zhu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned.

"This thing is really strong, much stronger than those weaklings guarding the cauldron."

"Don't be careless."

I retracted the bone needle, and looked past the human-faced spider's corpse to the tightly closed stone door.

"The real person is still inside waiting for us."

The stone gate is very tall, about five meters high, and is carved with two huge Bixie, their eyes wide open in anger, as if they might come to life at any moment.

Black and red evil energy was seeping out continuously from the cracks in the stone gate.

I walked to the stone gate and placed my hand on the cold stone surface.

"Are you ready?"

I glanced back at my teammates.

Lu Yan gripped the peach wood sword tightly, Master Xuanzhen straightened his Taoist robe, and although Tie Zhu and Qian Ji were disheveled, their eyes remained firm.

"Open the door."

I took a deep breath and exerted force with both hands.

With a sickening scraping sound, the door, sealed for hundreds of years, slowly opened.

The stone gate emitted a heavy rumble and slowly receded to both sides.

A wave of heat rushed in through the crack in the door.

I squinted, and the malevolent energy within my body circulated automatically, resisting the suffocating pressure.

"This is……"

Tie Zhu and Qian Ji behind them let out a gasp.

The world behind the door was beyond their imagination.

This was not the gloomy and terrifying tomb they had imagined, nor was it filled with mountains of gold and silver treasures.

This is a huge theater.

However, it was exactly what Lu Yan and I expected.

Because I had already read the information about the underground palace provided by Lu Yan ten days ago.

However, seeing the scene in person and looking at dimly lit photos are two completely different experiences.

The main burial chamber was incredibly large, with countless luminous pearls embedded in the dome, arranged in the shape of constellations, emitting a faint, cold light that illuminated the area below as if it were daytime.

Beneath our feet lies a wide avenue paved with blue bricks, leading straight to the high platform ahead.

On both sides of the avenue, countless mummified corpses knelt in dense rows.

They wore Ming Dynasty-style mandarin duck battle robes, which, although rotten and worn, still retained their bright red color.

Each person gripped a rusty spear or saber tightly in their hand, kneeling on one knee with their head bowed, facing the high platform in front of them.

Hundreds and thousands.

They were like a silent army, kneeling here for three hundred years.

There was not a single mess, and not a single corpse lay on the ground.

"These... are all his personal guards."

Master Xuanzhen's voice was somewhat hoarse, and the whisk in his hand trembled slightly.

"They defended the isolated city to the death, and refused to disperse even in death. What loyalty, and what...foolish loyalty!"

We carefully made our way through the deathly silent army formation.

Each mummified corpse had a black, hardened shell covering its face, the result of years of erosion by the corpse's aura.

As I passed by them, I could even feel the murderous intent emanating from them that seemed ready to erupt at any moment.

It seemed that as long as the person on the stage gave the order, this army of undead, which had been asleep for three hundred years, would immediately awaken and tear the intruders to shreds.

Finally, we reached the end.

Ahead, there is a stage that is three meters high.

The stage is entirely made of white marble, and the railings are carved with exquisite dragon patterns.

In the very center of the stage, there was a huge tiger-skin carpet.

On the tiger skin, a large armchair was placed.

There was a person sitting there.

He was dressed in a military officer's robe and wore a black gauze winged crown. His figure was as tall and strong as an iron tower.

General Zuo, Zuo Zongtang.

The Corpse King that the guardian of the cauldron tried so hard to awaken.

At his feet lay an offering table.

There were no pig heads, cows, or sheep on the offering table, only a female corpse.

The female corpse was dressed in a bright red phoenix coronet and wedding gown, like a newlywed bride.

But her chest was cut open.

A heart that had long since shriveled up was dug out and placed on a gold plate on the offering table.

In General Zuo's hand, he held a broken sword.

The broken sword was covered in black scabs, its tip pointing directly at the heart in the golden plate.

After looking around, Master Xuanzhen suddenly spoke.

"Based on the information Xiao Lu showed me on the way, it should be an evil spell involving ghost soldiers borrowing a path."

Master Xuanzhen took a deep breath, his eyes blazing with fury.

"I have seen this utterly immoral method in ancient books."

Legend has it that during the chaos at the end of the Ming Dynasty, many generals, in an attempt to reverse their defeats, turned to sorcerers, hoping to borrow the power of the underworld.

However, this method is a complete scam.

Yin and Yang have boundaries; this is the will of Heaven, and it must not be violated.

How could a general in the mortal realm possibly command troops in the underworld?

He pointed to the woman's corpse.

"The ancient books record that in order to borrow the ghost army, one must use the blood of a close relative as a catalyst and the heart of a beloved as a sacrifice."

He killed his wife, disemboweled her, and dug out her liver, all to open the gates of hell so that the soldiers of the entire city would become vengeful ghosts after death and continue to be driven by him!

What a pity...sigh!

"madman."

Lu Yan gritted her teeth, the peach wood sword in her hand creaking. "Superstitious and evil, for the sake of so-called victory, she not only killed her own husband, but also her entire family."

This kind of person is no longer a hero who fights against the enemy and defends the land; he's a gambler who has fallen into madness!

I didn't speak.

I just stared intently at the figure sitting in the armchair.

My profession is mortician. I have seen countless ways of dying and countless kinds of corpses.

But I have never seen such a heavy sense of resentment.

It wasn't just the resentment of the murdered wife, but also the resentment of the kneeling soldiers, as well as General Zuo's own arrogance and obsession with not accepting defeat and trying to defy fate.

These emotions, mixed together and fermented over three hundred years, have transformed into a tangible form of oppression.

Just then.

"Zheng—"

A clear, melodious sword cry suddenly rang out in the empty tomb chamber.

The sound didn't come from us, but from the stage.