Aside from this, all was silent. At the moment, no new corpses came.
Just as Wei WuXian was about to relax, a series of almost imperceptible noises came from above him.
The noises were extremely difficult to pick up. It was as if somebody was walking rapidly above the roof. However, since the person’s movements were abnormally light, the sound of their footsteps was close to unnoticeable. Wei WuXian only caught the slight noises of collision between the roof tiles due to his keen senses. Of course, since he was blind, Xiao XingChen noticed the noises as well. He cautioned them, “From the above!”
Wei WuXian shouted, “Disperse!”
As soon as he said it, a large hole was smashed through the ceiling of the central chamber. Dust, grasses, and broken roof tiles rained down from the top. It was fortunate that most of the disciples had already scattered around, thus nobody was hurt. A black figure leaped down from the opening in the roof.
The man wore black cultivational robes. With a tall stance and a straight back, he had the air of a firm pinetree. A horsetail whisk was strapped to his back and a long sword was held in his hand. His face, although handsome, tilted upward slightly, suggesting a haughty, aloof personality.
Yet, there were no pupils within his eyes, only deathly fields of white.
It was a fierce corpse!
As soon as everyone determined this fact, he launched an attack with his sword in his hand.
He aimed his attack at Jin Ling, who was the closest to him. Jin Ling defended with his sword. The power that came with the attack was so strong that his arm almost numbed. If it wasn’t for the immense spiritual powers of his own sword, Suihua, it might have broken and he might have died on the spot. With a failed first attack, the black-clothed corpse attacked again. His movements were smooth and natural, while his attacks were sharp and ruthless. This time, he lunged at Jin Ling’s arm. Under desperation, using his sword, Xiao XingChen defended the attack for Jin Ling. Possibly because the corpse poisoning broke out again, he finally collapsed.
Lan JingYi panicked, “Just what exactly is he, dead or alive?! I have never seen a…”
A corpse with such high speed and fine swordsmanship!
He didn’t finish his sentence, because he remembered that he had seen one before.
The Ghost General was also like this!
Wei WuXian watched the cultivator with utmost attention. Thinking quickly, he pulled out the bamboo flute by his waist and played a shrill, ear-piercing long tone. It was so painful to listen to that everyone who was present covered his ears. As the cultivator heard the sound, despite how his figure reeled and his hands trembled, he still attacked at Wei WuXian!
He couldn’t be controlled. This corpse had a master!
The sword was as fast as thunder, yet Wei WuXian dodged it. As they brushed past, he calmly played another tune. A split second later, the mannequins patrolling outside also hopped onto the roof and jumped down through the hole. Sensing that something was wrong, the corpse stabbed twice with his right arm, vertically slicing two of the mannequins into four halves. With his left hand, he pulled out his whisk. It was as if the thousands of soft, white strands turned into the poisonous spikes on a mace, slashing and piercing with each whip. If it accidentally touched someone, they would sure be turned into a bloodied sieve.
In the midst of multitasking, Wei WuXian managed, “Nobody come here. Be good and stay in the corners!”
After his words, he immediately returned to commanding the corpses. The flute sounded vivacious at times, while vehement at other times. Though the cultivator used both hands and attacked with strong hostility, paper mannequins ceaselessly dropped from the roof, encircling him with attacks. When he fought one side, more came on the other; when he killed the ones in front, there’d be more behind him. It really was impossible to deal with everything at once. Suddenly, a Nether Brawler shot down from above and landed on him, holding him on the ground with a foot on his shoulder.
Immediately afterward, three more Nether Brawlers jumped down from the opening and slammed onto his body one by one.
In legends, Nether Brawlers had incredible strength. When craftspeople made them, some things were usually added onto their bodies to increase their weight. After being possessed by roaming spirits, each was heavier than the next. Simply one of them would be as heavy as a mountain. With four on him at once, he’d be doing well if his guts didn’t gush out. Thus, the robed corpse was securely held down onto the ground by the four Nether Brawlers.
Wei WuXian walked over and found that an area on the back of his clothes had been torn. Soothing it out, he noticed that there was a wound, both thin and narrow, near his left shoulder blade. He commanded, “Turn him over.”
The four Nether Brawlers proceeded to turn the cultivator over. With his front on the upside, it was easier to inspect. Wei WuXian brushed the finger with the cut near each of their lips as awards. With crimson tongues made of paper, the Nether Brawlers slowly licked the blood beside their lips, as if they truly cherished the delicacy. Only then did Wei WuXian look down again and continue his inspection. On the cultivator’s left chest, near his heart, there was a similar tearing, a similar thin, narrow wound. It seemed as if he died with a stab through the heart.
The corpse had been struggling as hard as he could. Low growls came out of his throat and ink-colored blood trickled from the corners of his lips. Wei WuXian pinched his cheeks and forced him to open his mouth. Inside, his tongue had also been pulled out from the root.
Blind eyes, detached tongue. Blind eyes, detached tongue.
Why did these two traits appear so often?
After a while of observation, Wei WuXian began to feel that the corpse was similar to Wen Ning when he had been controlled by the black nails. With the thought, he felt around the corpse’s temples and, as he had expected, he really found two metal points!
This type of long nails were used to control high-level fierce corpses so that they’d lose consciousness and the ability to think for themselves. Without knowing the corpse’s identity and character, Wei WuXian decided that he shouldn’t rashly pull the nails out, but instead interrogate him first. However, since his tongue was no longer there, even if the corpse regained consciousness, he wouldn’t be able to talk.
Wei WuXian asked the disciples from the Lan Sect, “Have any of you studied Inquiry?”
Lan SiZhui raised a hand, “Me. I have.”
Wei WuXian, “Have you brought your guqin?”
Lan SiZhui, “Yes.” At once, he took out a simplistic guqin, the wood of which still looked bright, from his Qiankun Pouch.
Seeing that the guqin was fairly new, Wei WuXian asked, “How is your qin language? Have you had actual experience? Will the spirit that you summon be able to lie?”
Lan JingYi interjected, “HanGuang-Jun said that SiZhui’s qin language is fine.”
If Lan WangJi said that it was “fine”, then it must be fine. He wouldn’t exaggerate or understate the matter, and so Wei WuXian ceased to worry. Lan SiZhui added, “HanGuang-Jun told me to focus on quality instead of quantity. The spirit that I summon will be able to avoid answering, but will not be able to lie. So, if it is willing to answer, then it will definitely speak the truth.”
Wei WuXian, “Then, let’s start.”
The guqin was laid horizontally before the cultivator’s head. Lan SiZhui sat on the ground, his robes spreading neatly around him. Having tried a few notes, he nodded. Wei WuXian began, “The first question: who is he?”