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墨書 Inktalez
The reason for the occurrence of the Underworld War...
What we see as the Yellow Springs, or commonly known as the Underworld, is actually divided into countless factions. Aside from the supreme leader, the Ten Yama Kings, each faction has its own Ghost Commander. When I read Ji Xiaolan's Notes from the Grass Hut, it raised an interesting question: "With such a vast area and so many different races, why do we only see Chinese ghosts among the Yin People?" If Ji Dayan knew that the Underworld was also divided by power, it would be easier to understand.
If it weren't for the records in Mausoleum Secrets, I wouldn't have known the reason behind the passage of the so-called Yin Soldiers.
The Yin Soldiers' passage can range from dozens to tens of thousands. They are more terrifying than marching ants in the desert. Before crossing, they often notify residents along their route with unusual weather phenomena like sandstorms. In fact, if you just hide at home and sleep soundly, you would generally be safe. However, given the current situation, it is clear that the Yin Soldiers are heading straight for this ancient tomb.
Those Yin Soldiers are swarming over like a rising tide, encircling us!
They still need some time to arrive; we have a chance to catch our breath.
We looked back at this ancient tomb, which was only four square meters in size. There were no coffins, and aside from a few Buddha statues and a box, there was nothing else. What exactly is the true master here that instills such fear in the Yin Soldiers?
So far, it seems that whatever is inside does not harbor any ill will towards us! We can only focus entirely on dealing with these Yin Soldiers, so we all turned our attention to the Yellow Talismans.
"With these Yellow Talismans, we might just escape disaster!" Big Mouth Lee's eyes lit up as he began explaining the names of these talismans to us.
This talisman is called the Three Teachings True Spirit Talisman, which is further divided into five types: Dao Ancestor Spirit Talisman, Supreme Ancestor Master Talisman, Shakyamuni Buddha Talisman, Guanyin Talisman, and Lu Zu Spirit Talisman. The Three Sacred Halls in Quanzhen Dao Ancestor Hall and Chongyang Palace enshrine Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. The Three Saints are also worshipped in Wuyi Mountain Water Curtain Cave. This talisman enjoys offerings of incense, flowers, food, and lamps for forty-nine days before receiving Spiritual Energy. It is made by mixing red toad powder with cinnabar and requires at least a Real Person-level master to draw it with complete focus; only three can be drawn each day. This shows how rare these talismans are!
Though the three teachings seem unrelated at first glance—Daoism governs nature, Buddhism governs the earth, and Confucianism guides humanity—this talisman combines secret techniques from all three schools. As long as every gap and hole is completely covered with Yellow Talismans, any place they suppress can be as solid as a fortress.
Zhengyang surprisingly pulled out a handful of true spirit secret talismans, indicating he had invested heavily; what lurked outside was indeed terrifying! Thankfully we have these talismans for protection; otherwise, we would have faced certain death.
After hearing all this, I finally felt relieved. Big Mouth Lee and I quickly sealed all openings while Dong Tong and Bald Qiang busied themselves sticking talismans on every crack in the tomb passage.
"Are you sure there are no omissions?"
Zhengyang asked, "If there is a gap that hasn't been sealed, those things can still come in. At that point, all our efforts will have been in vain!"
After our commotion in the Quicksand Tomb, there were indeed many openings. I recalled that the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva at the rear seemed to be like a gaping mouth.
As I observed the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, I noticed that Listening to the Truth appeared to be about to speak. Its mouth was very dark, and I could distinctly sense a hole beneath it, but I wasn't sure whether that hole connected to the underground or the outside.
Thinking of this made my heart skip a beat. I couldn't afford to linger with them any longer and lunged toward the statue of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. Reaching into my pocket, I shouted, "Do we have any talismans left?"
Everyone rummaged through their pockets and reported back that they had none.
A shiver ran through me as a gust of cold wind blew from the mouth of Listening to the Truth. This wind was unlike any breeze from the north, south, east, or west; it was chilling and bone-piercing, making my skin and bones feel numb.
This bone-chilling sensation was something no one could bear deep within their hearts. Its coldness was not like the winter wind that stings the skin or the chill that makes one shiver. Instead, it was an extreme cold that penetrated from the heart outward. Only those who have experienced despair, helplessness, or at least heartbreak could understand this kind of coldness. It was terrifying—infinitely terrifying. My scalp tingled as I shuddered several times.
The sudden onset of this cold wind surely meant trouble!
My face turned pale as I gritted my teeth and unsheathed the Azure Dark Sword with a clang. A sound emanated from Listening to the Truth that sent chills down my spine—one that fear could hardly describe. It was as if a voice from hell emerged; just a soft utterance was enough to instill fear in me for three lifetimes. It resembled those artificial sounds from horror movies, utterly incomparable.
A pale hand, resembling white malevolence with nails like iron hooks, reached out from the mouth of Listening to the Truth. Following this came a series of croaking sounds—"quack! quack! quack!"—like a frog's call or a blunt object striking a skull. It was the first time I had ever heard such a sound; an overwhelming fear made my scalp tingle. I trembled all over and muttered, "Damn it, let's go all out!"
I swung the Azure Dark Sword down towards that hand, shouting, "Even if you're the Thousand-Handed Avalokiteshvara, I'll chop you into a Venus with severed limbs!" I was making a metaphor here; everyone knows that Venus is renowned for her beauty with missing arms.
As my sword struck down, to my surprise, the hand actually severed. I expected at least a loud clang of metal against stone, but it broke apart so easily. However, I celebrated too soon; the hand slapped the ground and shot up into the air, its palm forming a claw that gripped my leg like an iron vice. I was taken aback, but even more horrifying things awaited me.
From the mouth of Listening to the Truth emerged a flat head, looking as if a truck had run over it. Its eyes and teeth bulged out of its skull, and soon after, a flat body followed. I felt nauseous at the sight, and naturally, in such a cramped space, Zhengyang and the others had already noticed.
In an instant, that thing squeezed out of Listening to the Truth's mouth like a piece of paper. I watched as the paper-thin figure with one missing arm slowly crawled up, opening its wide mouth to suck in the cold wind. It inflated like a balloon. The severed arm waved towards my leg, and suddenly it released its grip; the hand flew back to it and perfectly reattached.
"What the hell is this? It's even more terrifying than Yin Soldiers!"
We watched helplessly as that creature walked past us, stepping on our Yellow Talisman without a scratch. It exited the tomb passage and then, from Listening to the Truth's mouth, poured out seventy or eighty paper figures in succession!
Though I was filled with dread, I could still make out their appearances.
They were soldiers clad in typical Han Dynasty Military Uniforms, wielding Ring-Pommel Swords. Their faces were pale and some were dismembered, yet they carried themselves with the pride of the Han Army. More and more paper men resembling generals on Sweat Blood Horses rushed out… charging towards the battlefield…
"This is about to ignite an Underworld war; it seems we guessed the beginning right but got the ending wrong!"
"The city gate is on fire; innocent fish will suffer! We should hide inside the tomb and watch!"
Outside, the sandstorm had long subsided, leaving behind a layer of pale mist. Yet the mist couldn't obscure those Yin Soldiers' blood-red eyes, filled with resentment and hatred.
We were all fixated by this group of Yin Soldiers, feeling as if we were sitting on pins and needles. For a moment, we stood frozen in place, vaguely sensing that their attire looked very familiar but unable to recall where we had seen it before.
Roar!
Suddenly, a sharp roar erupted from the Yin Soldiers, filled with rage. Immediately, one of the Yin Soldiers, already charging at the front, suddenly accelerated and rushed towards me. Its speed was astonishing; in the blink of an eye, it reached the entrance of the tomb. However, the soldiers here were even more formidable. With a swift slash, they cleaved the Yin Soldier in two.
"The Yin Soldiers are attacking! Soul Shattering!" Zhengyang said lightly, and my face turned green with fear. Big Mouth Lee and Bald Qiang were also sweating profusely, and even Dong Tong, that cold girl, changed her expression.
"These Yin Soldiers must have fought nearby; what burst forth from the tomb is definitely a soldier of the Han Army! These Yin Soldiers must be enemies of the Han Army!"
"Could it be the Xiongnu?"
I recalled the equipment of the Yin Soldiers. The Xiongnu were known for wearing pleated trousers, with left-overlapping short coats on top and fitted pants below, complemented by leather boots. Functionally, such clothing not only protected against wind and cold but was also suitable for the harsh and windy conditions of the northern deserts. In terms of material, "the clothing was made of leather covered with fur."
Regarding hairstyles, the Altai ethnic groups were accustomed to wearing fur hats due to the cold climate. Long hair could easily become matted with sweat inside these hats, leading to lice infestations and scalp inflammation. Therefore, they often shaved their heads. In Shamanism, there is a theory about the Spirit Cap being a portal for souls; thus, a lock of hair was left on top of the head—Xiongnu left theirs on the left side, Rouran on the right, and Manchurians on top—each following their own traditions.
As I finished explaining all this, I noticed that Zhengyang and the others were not listening to me at all. All four pairs of eyes were fixed outside the window. First came a thunderous roar like ten thousand horses galloping, followed by the sound of metal clashing as if thousands were battling. The scene was incredibly spectacular; we all stared in awe!
"The two armies are engaged in battle!"
For four hundred years, there had been fierce conflicts between Han and Xiongnu. Under Emperor Wu of Han's campaigns, the Xiongnu gradually fell into a disadvantageous position. The brutality of battles in the western regions far from home was no less than that of Wei Qing and Huo Qubing's campaigns against the Xiongnu. Imperial soldiers showcased their might in foreign lands, still fighting for long-lost glory. The intensity of this battle was comparable to any that had occurred in history.
At least for us witnesses, this battle against the Yin Soldiers was unforgettable in its cruelty and bloodshed! Soon both sides' commanders arranged their formations; a grand battle in the underworld was about to erupt!
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