Chapter Six: The Ancient Corpse in the Mountain Village

Peach Orchard Village, as its name suggests, should have been a serene and beautiful hamlet, untouched by the world. Now, though, wild weeds sprawled across the land, and among jagged stones, snakes and insects slithered unseen. Abandoned houses stood silent, their beams adorned only with dust and tangled webs spun by spiders.

A gust of wind made Mengli shiver, her slender form trembling imperceptibly—a movement not lost on Luo Hao. In the next moment, a tattered garment was draped over her shoulders. It was nothing more than a beggar’s rag. Mengli glanced at Luo Hao, whose bare arms were exposed. “Brother, you’ll get cold. You should wear it yourself.”

Luo Hao’s casual gesture dispelled the last of Mengli’s worries; the brother she had just accepted truly cared for her.

“It’s nothing. Don’t let my ragged appearance fool you—I am a martial artist, a Qi Spiritual Realm warrior. This little chill is nothing! Come on, Mengli.” He flexed his muscles for her, and Mengli, giggling, wrapped the garment tighter and continued ahead.

Seeing Mengli move forward, Luo Hao grimaced internally. “Damn, why is it so cold? Even the heavens are playing tricks on me. How does this forsaken place get so icy at night? Even martial artists can’t withstand this chill!” Shaking his head, he hurried to catch up.

The sun had already slipped westward in the heavens, leaving only a faint afterglow. Legend held that the sun was the corpse of the ancient Golden Crow, and its resting place was at the northernmost edge of the continent, the end of the Sea of Bei Ming—a forbidden land that no mortal could set foot in. Through ages past, countless sages and warriors had tried to explore it, yet none returned alive.

The full moon hung high, shrouded by streaks of black mist. In a ruined temple within Peach Orchard Village, a spark of flame rose, illuminating the entire space. A gentle warmth flowed through Luo Hao and Mengli’s hearts.

A faint aroma of meat drifted from the iron pot set over the fire, the soup inside bubbling and making Luo Hao’s mouth water with anticipation. The iron pot belonged to the temple, and the meat was from prey Luo Hao had hunted outside the village at dusk. To his surprise, Mengli was skilled in cookery, and the mere fragrance left him utterly captivated.

“Nothing compares,” Luo Hao mused. He recalled the time he and his master survived on hard buns atop the mountain. In his original world, it was almost fashionable for girls not to cook.

Mengli had found several chipped bowls from an abandoned house, and she handed Luo Hao a bowl of meat soup. “Brother, eat.” She smiled as Luo Hao took it.

His hunger overwhelming, Luo Hao devoured the meal voraciously, as if he might swallow the bowl whole. Mengli watched him finish his soup with a gentle smile, content herself with only a single bowl.

After enjoying the meal cooked by his sister, Luo Hao felt no hint of sleepiness. He made Mengli’s bed, moved the fire closer to her, and said, “A-li, rest early. I’ll be outside practicing and keeping watch. If anything happens, just call out.”

“Got it!” Mengli knew her brother yearned to be strong, and she would not distract him. Besides, his diligence meant he could better protect them both.

Luo Hao did not go far after leaving the temple. He sat cross-legged atop a stone in the open space, and the Twin Dragon Sovereignty Technique surfaced automatically in his mind. A faint dragon’s roar escaped his body, and behind him, two indistinct dragon heads appeared, their majestic aura rendering Luo Hao’s image solemn and awe-inspiring. With the twin dragon heads as backdrop, he seemed an invincible war god.

“Roar!”

A low, resonant dragon’s cry rumbled from Luo Hao’s throat. The dragon heads behind him suddenly opened wide, drawing the essence from all directions with irresistible force, like a raging torrent. They voraciously absorbed the spiritual energy, draining every bit within a hundred meters.

In the span of a single tea’s time, all spiritual energy in the vicinity was depleted. Within Luo Hao’s meridians, a faint golden power appeared—not strictly spiritual energy, but dragon force. The Twin Dragon Sovereignty Technique did not cultivate spiritual energy, but rather dragon force. The golden current in his veins was not yet pure dragon force, but something close.

Through introspection, Luo Hao saw the golden power flowing in his meridians and sighed inwardly: “Dragon force truly isn’t easy to refine. To achieve purity, I’ll have to temper my strength all over again.”

Cultivating the Twin Dragon Sovereignty Technique required vast amounts of spiritual energy. At his current level, Luo Hao could not hope to refine pure dragon force. After a long while, he withdrew his power, and the indistinct dragon heads faded.

Rising from the stone, he did not cease his training. Since accepting Mengli as his sister, Luo Hao had resolved to protect her, never allowing harm to touch her again.

“Tiger King Worships the Moon!”

A thunderous shout shook the heavens. Luo Hao’s body sprang forth like a fierce tiger released from its cage. His arms, suffused with golden dragon force, stretched out like steel whips, palm raised to the sky as if a peerless tiger gazing at the moon mid-leap. His palm, imbued with dragon force, struck down like divine iron, warping the air and producing a sharp sonic boom.

“Bang!”

His palm struck a massive boulder, shattering it into fragments that pierced distant abandoned houses. Beneath the boulder, a deep pit was formed. Luo Hao exhaled, never pausing, and continued to practice the subsequent moves of the Endtimes Tiger Technique. Though his current strength made the later moves difficult, it did not hinder his comprehension.

Another hour passed. Luo Hao threw his final punch, retracted his dragon force, and glanced up, noticing the moon was oddly tinged with blood-red. More curiously, the open space had become shrouded in white mist, laced with biting cold.

“This is chill... What’s happening?” He saw frost forming on the ground, his mind racing. Suddenly, connecting the strange signs, he recalled the elders’ tales of the Night of the Blood Moon.

“Not good, A-li!” Without thinking, Luo Hao sped into the ruined temple. Inside, the chill was as intense, a layer of frost covering the floor. Yet Mengli lay unharmed on the dry grass near the altar, and Luo Hao breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, Luo Hao sensed a dire danger. Without hesitation, he rushed to wake Mengli.

“Brother, what is it?” A-li’s sleepy eyes opened, immediately frightened by the scene. Instinctively, she clung to Luo Hao.

Luo Hao said nothing, only patting her shoulder and scanning their surroundings. He then picked Mengli up, jumped onto the altar, and hid her behind the Buddha statue. “A-li, stay here. I’m going to check things out. Don’t come out until I return.”

Just as he was about to leave, Mengli grabbed his arm, panic etched across her face, afraid he would abandon her.

Seeing her anxiety, Luo Hao gently stroked her hair. “Silly girl, how could your brother ever leave you? I’ll be right back.” With his reassurance, Mengli let go, watching his figure vanish into the swirling chill.

Outside the temple, Luo Hao leapt onto its roof for a better view. He saw the source of the white mist was the Black Mountain behind the village. Peach Orchard Village was built against the mountain, and only something on Black Mountain could spread chill so swiftly.

“Bang!”

Just as Luo Hao prepared to investigate, a deafening explosion erupted from Black Mountain. In his shocked gaze, a point of red light shot forth, accompanied by flying rocks, streaking toward the village. Under the red glow, all the flying stones instantly turned to shards of ice.

The red light struck the ground, carving out a pit three feet square. As it faded, Luo Hao’s pupils contracted, a surge of blood and evil filling the air like a tidal wave, engulfing the village.

“A blood coffin!” In the pit lay a three-meter-long vermilion coffin, its material unknown, showing not a hint of decay.

All the chill, blood stench, and evil aura radiated from this coffin. The closer one got, the thicker the oppressive aura, and black mist shrouded its surroundings.

Swallowing nervously, Luo Hao was grateful the coffin lay far from the temple. “Could there be a zombie inside? This feels like a horror movie—Uncle Ying won’t pop out, will he?” He joked to himself, though he knew this was no mere act.

Moonlight shone on the vermilion coffin, dispersing the black mist, and even the biting chill converged into the coffin.

“Creak—”

In the silent night, the grating sound was piercing. The coffin lid suddenly jerked, and Luo Hao’s expression grew grave, sweat breaking out on his brow.

“Bang.”

The lid was flung off, white chill erupting. A blood-drenched, evil howl echoed from the depths of the coffin.

“Hiss!” Luo Hao drew a sharp breath as two glowing green eyes appeared in the thick mist, colder than any ice, devoid of emotion.

“Aw, aw, aw!” Another howl burst forth, ripples trembling through the air, dispersing all the chill.

Before him, a colossal ancient corpse three stories tall stood proudly within the blood coffin, its green eyes sweeping the surroundings. Then it lifted its gaze to the blood moon above, which seemed now more sinister than ever.