Chapter 362 - 346: Where Are My Souls?
Faced with these soldiers still howling as they charged him, he subconsciously believed this was some grand, tragic last stand to defend their homeland.
"Hmph. A bit of courage. In that case, I will grant you your wish and see you off on your way!"
Before the words had even faded, he and several Qi Refining disciples pounced on the crowd of players like tigers on a flock of sheep.
The players didn’t hesitate, greeting them with a storm of blades, spears, swords, and halberds.
Instantly, a series of damage numbers appeared above the Evil Cultivators’ heads:
"-34!"
"-41!"
"-1!"
"-1!"
Seeing this, the players weren’t discouraged at all. Instead, they shouted in excitement:
"We can break their defense! We’ve got a shot, boys! We can break their defense!"
"As long as it has a health bar, we can kill even a god! Let’s zerg rush these bastards!"
"Charge! Get the first kill!"
However, the disparity in strength was undeniable.
Qi Refining Stage Cultivators using Magic against ordinary mortal players was nothing short of a one-sided slaughter. The dozen or so city guards and regular players at the very front were wiped out almost instantly.
Some had their bones and marrow sucked out, turning into desiccated corpses in a flash; others were entangled by black gas and rotted on the spot.
The leading Qi Refining Evil Cultivator was even more sadistic. He grabbed a player’s head, and with a vicious grin, gave it a sharp twist.
"CRACK—"
The player’s head was brutally twisted a full 360 degrees to face their back, killing them instantly.
Then, in front of everyone, the Evil Cultivator sucked the life from several more players who rushed him, turning them into shriveled husks as his body radiated a dense, sinister Demonic Qi.
Affected by the roiling blood of his demonic technique, his eyes grew even more crimson. He craved slaughter, but even more, he craved to feast on the fear of the weak.
He assumed that after witnessing such a gruesome scene, these mortals would be scared shitless. He expected them to kowtow and beg for mercy, even abandon their families to survive.
This was the weak’s offering to the strong, the flock’s rout before the wolf pack.
And so, he threatened them with a sinister voice, "Kneel and beg for mercy now... and perhaps, if I’m in a good mood, I’ll spare your..."
And yet, a second passed.
Two seconds passed.
No one knelt. No one even retreated.
On the contrary, as time ticked by, the commotion had drawn even more players, who came swarming from every corner of the city.
Despite the dozen or so bodies lying strewn at his feet, these mortals’ eyes held not a trace of fear as they stared at him.
What flickered in their gazes was... excitement, fanaticism, and undisguised greed!
The Evil Cultivator’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.
’You... aren’t you afraid of death? We’re the Demonic Path! Evil Cultivators! Can’t you show me some respect?! No, wait... who the fuck are the real Evil Cultivators here?!’
His answer was a dense volley of arrows.
He hurriedly activated a Technique, and a wave of ghostly fire swept out, melting all the incoming arrows.
Although the Evil Cultivators were on the verge of a mental breakdown over the players’ bizarre attitude, the slaughter didn’t stop.
That group of Demonic Path Qi Refining Cultivators pushed deeper into the city, step by step, enduring the rain of arrows and Magic.
Meanwhile, the players split their forces. One group formed a frontline to tank, die, and kill the enemy, while another desperately dragged the stunned local NPCs away from the north gate.
In the center of the battlefield, the bloodshed escalated once more.
The methods of the Demonic Path were utterly cruel. Ghostly fires burned sinisterly, extinguishing all life in their wake.
One Evil Cultivator among them, at the stage of Qi Refining Perfection, was especially ferocious.
A large, pale hand suddenly clamped down on a player’s crown, then yanked hard—
"SQUELCH—!"
With the sound of grinding bone, he brutally ripped out the player’s entire spine, skull still attached!
He swung this still-dripping "Spine Sword" as if he were in an empty field, cackling madly as he reaped the lives of the players around him.
Though the players were dauntless and launched wave after wave of suicidal charges with their mortal bodies, under the absolute suppression of levels, the scene could only be described as a field of corpses.
The ground littered with player corpses became a feast for the Demon Cultivators.
The Qi Refining disciples at the front frantically devoured the vital essence and blood spilling from the dead players, their faces flushed and their eyes glazed over.
Meanwhile, the dozen or so Foundation Establishment Stage disciples holding the rear summoned demonic flames to begin refining the bodies on the spot.
However.
Far behind the battlefield, at the heart of the mist.
Atop the [Nether Bone Sedan] carried by paper effigies, the Core Formation Stage Evil Cultivator Elder overseeing the battle felt no joy.
He leaned back on his throne of human bones, his fingers tapping intermittently on the ghastly white armrest. His brow furrowed, and his eyes filled with shock and suspicion.
’Something is wrong...’
He watched the brutal battlefield before him, watched hundreds, then thousands, fall in pools of blood, yet the sense of dissonance in his heart grew stronger and stronger.
’On the surface, it looks like we’ve obtained a great deal of flesh and blood... but with so many people dead, with bodies littering the ground... why are there so few souls floating out?!’
The [Soul Banner] in his hand was wide open, greedily waiting to devour the resentful souls from the battlefield. Yet after a long while, aside from absorbing the souls of a few unlucky mortals, the banner remained... empty!
Hundreds had died, yet there were almost no souls...
This Golden Core Evil Cultivator watched the masses charging forward to their deaths, one after another, and an inexplicable chill ran down his spine.
’Could it be... that none of them are living people?’
A terrifying theory surfaced in his mind: ’Flesh-and-blood puppets?! Are all these people soulless, manipulated puppets?! Could it be the Corpse-Driving Sect? But these puppets look so lifelike, that doesn’t seem right either. Is it some major Evil Cultivator sect? Or could it be... a trap set by a righteous sect?!’
’Did the righteous sect trade this place to another Evil Cultivator sect? Or has some other demon sect set its sights on this place?’
He shot upright, his sinister gaze sweeping across the surroundings. For a moment, the thought of retreat bloomed in his mind.
But as his hand touched the armrest of his sedan, he froze.
This operation was a "cushy job" personally assigned by his Master. If he were to flee back with his tail between his legs based on mere suspicion...
He recalled his Master’s vicious and cruel methods, and the Ten Thousand Poison Blood Pool behind the sect’s mountain that bubbled all year round.
If he fled without a fight, he feared his fate upon returning would be to be thrown into that pool by his Master, becoming "material" for the old man to advance his Cultivation.
The Golden Core Evil Cultivator took a deep breath, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.
...
[City Guard Channel]
[LittleMatchGirl]: Btw has anyone read Miss Su’s 10,000-word request? I’m a ways from the north of the city, and there’s a tofu vendor, Mrs. Wang, who absolutely refuses to leave! Will I get a penalty if I force her to go?!
[Headache]: Same here! There are always some stubborn old folks who don’t want to leave! Did anyone read that 10,000-word request?
[BiquCountryGo4 (Councilman)]: TL;DR. I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Let me try to issue a wartime quest. If it goes through, then we’re really in the clear!
DING—!
[Anhe Government Office - Special Wartime Conscription Order]
[Quest Name]: Forced Evacuation - Physical Relocation