Chapter 40: Drought Fiend Army Part 3

Xiao Kun nodded, looking at his companions. He felt he needed to correct his prior attitude. He had always thought everyone needed protection from him and Xiang Xian. Previously, it had just been the two of them heading to Kizil Canyon. The current situation proved that everyone must trust their companions. Only by fighting together could they resist the enemy.

Fierce winds howled through Kuqa Canyon, powerful air currents from the northern side of the Tianshan Mountains piercing the entire canyon and surging to the other side. Countless water vapors assailed the mountaintops, forming cloud waterfalls cascading from the heights.

It was about to rain again. Xiao Kun glanced at the sky.

Strange mists surged from the valley, falling heavily. With a muffled thunder rolling through the clouds, the world seemed to change. The next moment, bean-sized raindrops poured down from the sky.

“Where is it?” Xiao Kun asked.

Zheng Yong turned into a mass of black qi, left the main road, and flew straight into the depths of the mountain forest.

“Wait!” Hulü Guang shouted loudly.

“What is it?” Xiao Kun turned and asked.

As soon as Zheng Yong departed, Wu Yingzong grew tense. After all, no one could say if Zheng Yong was seizing the chance to flee or truly leading the way. Yet Hulü Guang had them halt at this moment.

Xiao Kun waved his hand to indicate it was fine and let Hulü Guang speak.

The rain grew heavier, soaking everyone through. Hulü Guang stood motionless in the rain. A moment later, he suddenly said, “Someone is encircling us, from the west, south, and east—three directions.”

Xiao Kun: “I understand. Continue.”

This was enemy territory; the Abyss Divine Palace lay at the deepest part of Kuqa Canyon. Their current actions were tantamount to provoking at the enemy’s doorstep.

“They are getting closer,” Hulü Guang said, lying on the ground to listen to distant sounds. Soaked like a drowned rat, he shouted loudly in the rain.

“Go!” Xiao Kun decided resolutely. Once they reached the graveyard, they would have the qualification to battle Mr. Liu.

At the same time, Mr. Liu had already assembled twenty thousand pitch-black cavalry outside the canyon. In the rain, they encircled the Ten Thousand Burials Graveyard at the foot of the Tianshan Mountains. The army stood utterly silent, all armored War Dead Corpse Ghosts.

Then, he gripped the Horizontal Flute and pointed ahead, making a single gesture.

All the cavalry faced the graveyard and charged.

The earth shook, horses’ hooves forming rhythmic muffled thuds like drumbeats on the ground. Though still several li away, everyone heard it.

Thunder crashed again. Xiao Kun urged his horse to top speed, charging toward the direction Zheng Yong indicated.

They arrived outside a plain, where Zheng Yong’s black qi form materialized, hovering at the center. Countless weathered steles stretched endlessly there, extending to the foot of the Tianshan Mountains. A massive stele stood at the very center; after long ages, its inscriptions were mottled and nearly shattered.

The Giant Ape wiped water from his face and turned to prepare for battle. Everyone was drenched through; Xiao Kun’s martial robe clung tightly to his body, rainwater streaming down his hair. He walked toward the central stele of the vast graveyard. Just as his father had said, this place buried many Central Plains soldiers who had once died in the Western Regions.

From the Han era’s expedition to the Tianshan Mountains, generation after generation of soldiers left home, took up arms, and came to Southern Xinjiang. No one knew when this cemetery had been built—perhaps a Meng Jiang from Chang’an had shed blood and tears along the Silk Road, searching for her husband until this remote corner, erecting the first tombstone at the foot of the Tianshan Mountains.

More and more war dead were sent here, expanding around the first generation of Han fallen. By Wei and Jin, and into the early Tang, the numbers of troops dispatched to the Western Regions peaked across history. Such graveyards dotted the Tianshan foothills everywhere.

In wind and rain, time seemed frozen. The names on the steles had long been gently smoothed away by wind and sand. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating countless steles on the ground like stars in the firmament.

That lightning illuminated the stele, revealing two faint lines of text—

After snow on Tianshan, sea winds chill;

Horizontal flute blows, the road grows hard.

“They are coming!” Hulü Guang turned and said.

On the horizon amid the downpour, a black line appeared, surging toward them like a tidal wave. Xiao Kun hesitated no longer. Standing before the stele, he said solemnly, “Sixth Drum Holder of War Dead Corpse Ghosts, Xiao Kun, bearing the Drought Fiend Power, hereby awakens the comrades slumbering here!”

The graveyard showed no change. The Giant Ape faced the direction of the oncoming War Dead Corpse Ghost army, ready for battle. Chaosheng held his breath, the Mountains and Rivers Sheji Map appearing in his hand, prepared to release Magical Power at any moment.

The roar of rain, thunderclaps, and the army’s charge drowned all other sounds. The four turned to face Mr. Liu’s thousands upon thousands.

In this world rivaling thunderous booms, a “thud” sounded. In Xiao Kun’s hand, the weathered Rattle Drum rang with his motion, and everyone’s hearts skipped a beat in unison.

Jing Pian Ge’s voice still echoed:

“The Zenggu Drum can awaken the Forbidden Army guards, calling them back to the battlefield…

“Mr. Liu holds another treasure, the ‘Great Si Ming Flute.’ Its sound turns corpses into Drought Fiends, forming a sonic domain to control comrades in battle.