Kuo Cang City

Chapter 689: Kuo Cang City

Between the Four Qi and Qingqiu, the land of Later Shu looked barren whether compared to the Four Qi with its many lakes or the herds of Qingqiu.

There was no end to the jagged rocks, and the cracked, dry Gobi stretched on forever. Green was scarce; what grew was mostly drought-resistant plants that had merged with the desert itself.

But Li Huowang had long grown used to this sight. It had been a while since they left the coast after killing that thing in the sky which could summon clouds and rain.

By now, both Li Huowang and the others had completely changed their clothes, dressed as refugees fleeing disaster. After all, Later Shu and the Fa Sect were at war. You never knew who you might run into.

Even so, in this chaotic wartime, trouble kept coming without end.

Clang! The two swords collided heavily midair. Li Huowang opened his mouth wide, and black, writhing tentacles surged out, plastering themselves over the bandit’s face, tearing it clean off.

Lyu Xiucai raised his serrated sword and charged forward. Facing his enemy, he didn’t hesitate—he pried off two of his own fingernails with a bamboo sliver and flung them.

Arrows rained down on his paper belly-doll, its surface covered in spell-writing, but they bounced off with the sound of metal striking metal.

Facing these well-equipped bandits, Lyu Xiucai showed no fear. In his eyes, there was only a hatred that would not fade.

If Li Huowang had to name one person who had left the deepest impression on him during this journey, it would be Lyu Xiucai. He truly wanted to avenge his family.

Whenever they encountered the Fa Sect, he was always the first to charge.

Seeing several bandits in the distance dip their arrowheads in black dog blood and take aim at Lyu Xiucai again, Li Huowang raised his spine-sword and swung hard. Shiiing! A rift flew out.

The rift not only split them in two, but the strange liquid that gushed from it glued them all together into one person.

Though the spine-sword could no longer serve as a key to the Great Qi, in Li Huowang’s hands now, its power for killing had only increased.

These were soldiers—and bandits. Or more precisely, a band of deserters who had turned to banditry. The forces here weren’t just Later Shu and the Fa Sect, but also the poor souls caught between them.

But no matter who they were, they were all helpless before Li Huowang and his group.

The battle soon quieted down. After clearing the corpses from the road, everyone moved on.

Their indifference came from having been through this more than once.

Bandits this close to the capital were proof enough of how badly order had crumbled in Later Shu.

Li Huowang’s carriage had lost some people. The White Lotus Society that followed Bai Lingmiao had also lost some. They had all scattered, spreading the White Lotus faith throughout Later Shu.

“At this rate, we should be there in about three more hours,” Li Huowang said. His words gave the exhausted others a push of resolve to grit their teeth and keep going.

As they drew closer, the cow dung and footprints on the ground grew more numerous—but so did the dead.

Decaying skeletons were strewn about like garbage, carelessly discarded.

Bai Lingmiao’s face showed a flicker of pity. She knew she couldn’t bury them all. This was a time of chaos. In times like these, life was the cheapest thing—whether it was the life of a Later Shu citizen or someone who believed in the Fa Sect.

Dong dong dong~ The hand-skin drum was gently struck by a hand with long black fingernails. She began to sing in a mournful tone. “With a handful of incense in hand~ the smoke rises to the ninth heaven~ at the great gate, shredded paper hangs~ at the second gate, white sails unfurl~ smoke and clear wind return to heaven ah~...”

As the drumbeat thudded on, wisps of cool wind blew past, rustling the hems of their clothes. The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.

“Amitabha… Amitabha… Amitabha…”

Hearing the monks chanting for the dead, Li Huowang let out a soft sigh. Sometimes, he really wished ghosts existed.

If ghosts existed, the good could take revenge on those who wronged them. If ghosts existed, they could go to Lord Yan’s court and file a complaint. If ghosts existed, at least heaven and earth would have order and reincarnation.

Many people feared ghosts, but ghosts were actually the most beautiful lie in the world of men.

Bai Lingmiao’s chanting didn’t stop, because the skeletal remains never ended.

Her song carried them toward a massive stone city built into the mountain, terraced from high to low, easy to defend and hard to attack.

From Li Huowang’s vantage point, a grand mountain city lay before him. This was Later Shu’s Kuo Cang City, the seat of the Later Shu Supervisory Heavenly Office.

He could see the chevaux-de-frise around the city walls, the scars on the stone—proof that the city had been besieged before.

Though the walls hadn’t been breached, the fact that the enemy had reached the capital itself was evidence enough of the dire situation.

Li Huowang showed the waist token of the Great Liang Sitian Jian, and they entered the great mountain city without trouble.

He had no intention of hiding anything. Once he put his red Daoist robe back on, the Later Shu Supervisory Heavenly Office knew at once who had arrived.

What surprised Li Huowang was that the officials of Later Shu ignored him and instead approached Bai Lingmiao and the White Lotus followers she had brought.

It wasn’t long before someone came to guide him—a man from the Supervisory Heavenly Office.

Like everywhere else, the Later Shu Sitian Jian was located underground. But given Kuo Cang City’s strange structure, Li Huowang felt it was more accurate to say it was inside the mountain.

“Where’s Xuanpin?” Li Huowang asked Shangguan Yuting, who had followed him the whole way. After what he’d seen on this journey, he understood just how dangerous the situation was.

“Wait here. I’ll find him,” she said, lifting her skirt and walking into a stone wall beside them.

Li Huowang sat on a stone bench, suppressing his anxious impatience as he waited. His mind raced through worst-case scenarios.

“You’re here. Slower than I expected.” Xuanpin sat on the other side of the stone table, aiming the pitch-black hole inside his red Daoist robe squarely at Li Huowang.

Li Huowang couldn’t be bothered to ask how the man had appeared. He spoke directly. “If you wanted speed, you should have called me when you first came to Later Shu.”

“You were busy with other things. Even if I had called, you wouldn’t have come.” Xuanpin shifted aside, revealing the person behind him.

It was a man wearing a bronze mask. The mask was a dull yellow. Though it was a single mask, it was squeezed with two ferocious human faces.

Bristling whiskers, fangs, furious eyes—the two hideous faces, one above the other, struggled to dominate each other.

And atop those two faces, like a hat, worn a ring of skulls the size of chicken eggs.