Chapter 170
Chapter 170
The cold glow of the small Migu Flower lantern fell across a landscape of rust.
The damp stone corridor reeked of iron, the metallic tang carrying a faint sweetness.
The standing water here was a little deeper than in the previous passage, almost covering Qin Ying’s insteps.
With both feet submerged in the bone-chilling water, every step felt heavy.
“Over there.”
The Little White Monkey with the golden saber on its back used Chen Zhao as a climbing frame, stepping onto his head for a better view.
It glanced in the direction Qin Ying was pointing, then squeaked twice.
Chen Zhao cocked his head as if listening.
The next moment, he nodded. “Go!”
In the brief time they had stopped, the chunks of rust behind them had already pressed closer.
The path they had come from was completely overrun by clusters of red rust.
Qin Ying’s robe was getting in the way, so she gathered up the hem and prepared to move.
But it was unbelievably heavy, as though countless hands beneath the stagnant, rust-stained water were tugging at it.
She looked down and discovered that rust had climbed up her feet and the hem of her clothes.
Both her feet were encased in heavy clumps of rust.
Qin Ying stamped her feet, trying to smash the shackle-like things against the floor.
Before she could, a pair of hands reached over and rubbed them. The clumps binding her feet crumbled into cascading reddish-brown dust.
The soldier who had entered the stone corridor with them had helped her.
Chen Zhao said, “Liang Pu, protect her.”
Liang Pu, the soldier who had freed Qin Ying, was one of Chen Zhao’s trusted attendants. He nodded at the order.
With her feet free, Qin Ying tore off her overrobe. Covered in rust, it had grown as heavy as a sheet of iron.
Chen Zhao continued in the lead with the Little White Monkey on his back, Qin Ying followed in the middle, and Liang Pu brought up the rear.
They carefully made their way single file between the stone sarcophagi.
Chen Zhao and Liang Pu were both soldiers of the Jade Balance Army and were exceptionally agile.
Qin Ying was not nearly as nimble. Several times, while turning sideways to squeeze through the gaps between the stone sarcophagi, she nearly bumped into a Coffin.
Fortunately, Liang Pu was there to steady her.
Even so, they were still slower than the rust closing in around them.
Qin Ying’s clothes grew heavier and heavier. By the time they reached the latter half of the corridor, the Rust Tide was practically snapping at their heels.
Finally, just before the weight of the rust tore her clothes apart, they reached the slanting Bone Staff.
The stone floor within several feet of the Bone Staff was spotless. There was only clear standing water, without a trace of rust.
The moment Qin Ying stepped onto the stone slab, she let out a long breath.
Her clothes had already been eaten through by dark red rust, while thick layers of rust under her soles made her noticeably taller.
She hopped in place, then turned around. Sure enough, the surging Rust Tide had stopped.
Only then did Qin Ying realize she was shivering uncontrollably from the cold. Every breath emerged as a cloud of white mist.
“What do we do now?” Qin Ying turned to ask Chen Zhao.
In truth, they had few options. They could either take the Bone Staff and retrace their steps, or take the Bone Staff and enter the stone door behind it.
But either path posed the same problem: would rashly disturbing the Bone Staff provoke an even greater danger?
In her dream omen, Qin Ying had seen a Shaman-like old man using the Bone Staff to herd rust-covered humanoid creatures.
If she had guessed correctly, those things were inside the stone sarcophagi.
If they moved the Bone Staff carelessly, would the damned things inside each Coffin rise from the dead?
She put the question to Chen Zhao, hoping he might know what these things were and find a better way out of their predicament.
But the moment she turned to look, a chill flooded her chest.
It felt as though countless flecks of rust were crawling down her windpipe and into her chest.
Chen Zhao and Liang Pu, along with the Little White Monkey on Chen Zhao’s back, all had large patches of rust spreading across their faces and fur.
A savage look crossed Chen Zhao’s face as he raised a hand and scrubbed away the chunk of rust sealing his mouth.
As he moved, he made a teeth-grating creak like a rusty tin toy.
His movements split the rust apart, and blood gushed from the cracks, revealing raw crimson flesh underneath.
With his sandpaper-rough palm, he forcibly rubbed away the rust plastered over his lips.
The moment his mouth was free, he cursed, then spat several mouthfuls of blood and rust flakes onto the floor.
Liang Pu did much the same.
The Little Monkey on Chen Zhao’s back had been luckier.
Clumps of rusted fur fell out, leaving bald patches across its back and a bare spot on top of its head like an old man with a receding hairline, but at least its skin was unhurt.
Seeing their miserable state, Qin Ying assumed she must look much the same and started to lower her eyes to check.
But Chen Zhao, who had rubbed the skin off both his lips, stared at her in astonishment and suspicion. “How come you’re fine?”
Only then did Qin Ying look at her hands.
The lines on her palms crisscrossed messily, but her skin remained fair and unblemished.
The corrosive rust had stained only Qin Ying’s clothes and shoes. Not a trace of it had touched her skin or body.
Qin Ying knew there was something unusual about her body, but she had no answer to Chen Zhao’s question.
Qin Ying only looked back at him with an even more bewildered expression. “I have no idea.”
Chen Zhao licked his raw, cracked lips before murmuring, “Because you’re one of the Sand People?”
Chen Zhao wasn’t petty enough to leap to conspiracy theories. Qin Ying had no motive to hurt anyone, nor had she done anything harmful.
He simply attributed her body’s immunity to the rust’s corrosion to her bloodline.
As he spoke, he and Liang Pu rummaged through their clothes for the medicinal powder they carried to stop the bleeding.
Yet when they pulled out the little vials and tipped them over, nothing but iron filings spilled out.
The Little White Monkey on Chen Zhao’s back touched its now completely ruined golden blade, its face the very picture of despair.
Then something happened that devastated it even more.
It happened to look down and, by the cold glow of the Migu Flower, caught sight of its bald crown reflected in the water pooled on the ground.
It threw down its blade and clapped both paws over its icy-cold bare scalp in disbelief.
The next instant, it began hopping up and down, screeching hysterically.
Chen Zhao had no time to comfort it. He turned his attention to the Bone Staff embedded in the ground at an angle.
Masses of rust hemmed them into that tiny space like a cage. If they couldn’t find a way out of this predicament, it was only a matter of time before they froze or starved to death.
They might as well slit their own throats and get it over with.
“General, this appears to be the shinbone of some enormous beast,” Liang Pu said hesitantly as he examined it as well.
Chen Zhao crouched down for a closer look at the bone, which was as lustrous and white as jade. After a moment, he looked up at Qin Ying. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t believe you.”
He was referring to the ominous dream Qin Ying had mentioned.
He had been too arrogant then to take it seriously.
After apologizing, he continued, “Tell us exactly what you saw in your dream.”
All three of them were trapped in the same perilous situation. Qin Ying would have to be out of her mind to put on airs and quibble over trust now.
She quickly recounted everything she had seen, straining to recall every detail as she spoke.
Chen Zhao listened intently. After a long while, he said, “Perhaps you’re the one who’s supposed to pull out this Bone Staff.”
“In your dream, you saw a Sand People Shaman tending a herd with a Bone Staff. Aren’t you a Sand People Shaman yourself? Besides, the rust can’t corrode you. What do you call that?”
“I call it destiny!”
The more Chen Zhao spoke, the more convinced he became. Liang Pu also turned to Qin Ying with a look that clearly said they were counting on her.
Cold sweat broke out across Qin Ying’s back. Her face twisted beneath her veil as she tried to argue, “Maybe… my Sand People blood isn’t all that pure?”
She was a Sand People Shaman, my ass!
Before Qin Ying could protest further, the bald Little White Monkey bounded over and forcibly dragged her to the Bone Staff.
It gestured frantically for her to get on with it.
Things had already come this far. She would just have to steel herself and do it.
Qin Ying rubbed her hands, which had gone slightly numb from the cold, then warned Chen Zhao and Liang Pu in advance.
“If I pull out the Bone Staff, something will most likely go wrong. We need to be ready to make a run for it.”
By now, Chen Zhao had more or less figured out what she meant by making a run for it.
He worked his limbs again, cracking apart the rust coating his joints, then said, “Pull it out.”
Liang Pu took up position behind her as well.
Qin Ying drew a deep breath, reached out with both hands, and grasped the Bone Staff.
It was icy cold beneath her fingers. Tightening her grip, she slowly lifted it.
Bit by bit, the Bone Staff came free from the ground.
The instant the final inch left the earth, agonizing pain shot through Qin Ying’s palm.
A needle-sharp thorn had sprouted from the Bone Staff and stabbed deep into her palm.
Its tip pierced straight through the back of her hand.
Caught completely off guard by the pain, Qin Ying had to grit her teeth with all her might to keep from screaming.
Her right hand was now pinned to the Bone Staff.
Dark crimson blood, no different from anyone else’s, streamed down the Bone Staff.
Her flesh and blood were being consumed. In an instant, the skin and flesh of her palm began to shrivel.
The moment her blood stained the Bone Staff red, a muffled boom rang out.
The stone door behind them, covered in human-shaped rust growths, shuddered and opened a narrow crack.
Qin Ying turned to look, only to hear a piercing, grating creak that set her teeth on edge.
The Rust Men clinging to the stone door like decorations suddenly snapped their heads around and stared directly at Qin Ying.
Rust seethed everywhere she looked, and Coffin lids flew off one stone sarcophagus after another, all at once.
At the sight, the usually taciturn Liang Pu swallowed hard. “Miss, it looks like your bloodline really isn’t all that pure.”
Chen Zhao kicked him in the backside. “Cut the chatter. Let’s make a run for it!”
As countless rust-covered humanoid figures turned toward them in unison, Chen Zhao pointed at the crack in the stone door.
The passage was already packed with rust, but a small clear area remained beyond that crack, giving them enough room to slip through.
“Go!”
Wasting no words, Chen Zhao scooped up the bald Little White Monkey and slung it over his shoulder.
Liang Pu reached out and seized Qin Ying by the arm.
With her hand still impaled and pinned to the Bone Staff, he dragged her bodily toward the crack in the stone door.