SEC Chapter 39 The Dead Walk on the Earth
Chapter 39 The Dead Walk on the Earth
into the night.
Several ravens silently swept across the dim sky.
On the undulating snow-covered hills, two figures trudged along, one after the other.
"What are you doing following me?" Shinzo walked ahead without turning around.
"I'm afraid you'll die." Liz followed him, stepping on the snow path he had cleared. "Besides, your people aren't so easy to accept a drow elf."
She tied her long, silvery-white hair into a neat braid, the color blending with the wind and snow, fluttering in the air.
The knee-deep snow had no effect on her; Zhuo'er's steps were as light as a deer's, as if she were born to be a fairy in the snow.
Shinzo chopped away the dead branches blocking his path: "If you encounter danger, I won't save you."
"Save it, I can save myself." Liz scoffed. "Aren't you underestimating me? I've lived on this land for decades, not because of men's charity."
Xin Zang didn't respond.
Seeing that he ignored her, Liz quickened her pace, nimbly stepped past him, blocked his way, and walked backwards.
Her long braid swung back and forth in front of Shinzo.
"Are you unhappy again?" She forced Xin Zang to look into her eyes. "My long ears have heard quite a few good things in the camp. Those humans consider you the undisputed next king."
She tilted her head.
"The chosen one, the son of the King of Men. Young man, I never would have guessed you had such a prestigious title."
"What does this have to do with you?" Xin Zang asked, somewhat curious about what this drow elf was up to.
"This is a big deal. You will become the king of a race in the future. Power and wealth will be in your hands. As the king's friend, it's not unreasonable for me to enjoy some of the riches and glory along with you, is it?"
"All of this must be the work of the gods." Shinzo pushed aside the pine branches blocking his path. "I will continue my father's path and serve the gods."
"Another deity? How disappointing."
Liz rolled her eyes, full of disdain. "You talk like you've seen a god with your own eyes. Why would those high and mighty things pay attention to a greenhorn like you? You'll waste your whole life on them."
Xin Zang stopped in his tracks.
He smiled.
The drow elf in front of them was also stunned.
Liz had never seen such an expression on the man in front of her.
Her intuition told her the absurd subtext behind that smile—had he really seen it before?
Before she could even voice her doubts...
Shinzo pressed down hard on the back of her head, burying her in the thick snow.
Caught off guard, Liz instinctively reached for the dagger at her waist, but a tremendous force pressed her firmly into the snow.
"Don't make a sound." Shinzo's voice came close to his ear.
The mixed-race drow didn't like this distance; it was dangerous and offered no privacy whatsoever. But she couldn't push the person next to her away, and for some reason, her heart was racing.
She stopped struggling, turned her head, and followed Xin Zang's gaze, leaping over the edge of the snow hill to look ahead.
In the snow ahead.
A kobold corpse, frozen blue, slowly rose in a contorted posture.
Half of its neck had been severed, its head slumped limply on its shoulder, and it limped into the depths of the snowstorm, dragging a rusty machete in its hand.
The rusty blade traced a long trail across the snowfield.
"What is that?" Liz felt a chill run down her spine.
"What?" Xin Zang lay prone in the snow, watching the walking corpse disappear into the distance, and retorted about what had happened earlier, "Even an elf who has lived on this land for decades has things she doesn't know?"
Liz realized that this man was taking revenge on her indirectly.
He raised his elbow impatiently and pressed it against Xin Zang's ribs.
Shinzo ignored her retaliation, crouched down, and used the undulating snowdrifts as cover to follow the staggering corpse. Liz rolled her eyes, also concealing her presence, and followed closely behind.
……
High above the heavens.
Liang Jiu looked down at the sand table below.
At the edge of the map, the red dot representing Xinzang is gradually pushing away the fog, illuminating his view ahead.
He was very satisfied with the progress.
Currently, there are still more than ten days left before the closure of the Godless Realm.
Even if you spend some time on appetizers, you still have plenty of time to grab the main course.
Our gaze passes beyond the wind and snow, looking towards the more distant north.
There, two completely different divine powers are clashing.
One side possessed divine power as abundant as the sea, but the fighting strength of its lower-level followers was clearly lacking, and they were unable to break through the enemy's defenses for a long time.
While the divine power of the other side was dim and weak, like a candle flickering in the wind, its lines of defense were as resilient as reefs, and even showed signs of a counterattack brewing.
It seems Sun Lang and that girl are having a fierce fight.
But Sun Lang's divine power is too low. Is it because he has too few followers?
In order to purify the dragon blood, all the mortal companions were killed, sacrificing quantity in exchange for better quality companions.
However, this also meant that they were at an inherent disadvantage in the battle of divine power, with more strength in defense than offense.
Liang Jiu withdrew his macroscopic gaze and refocused on the skeletal zombie in front of Xin Zang.
A thought crossed my mind.
A light blue information panel popped up in my field of vision:
[The resurrected dead (the mutilated remains of a kobold)]
[Race: Undead]
[Transcendent Rank: None (Cannon Fodder)]
[Trait:]
Pain deprivation: Dead creatures no longer feel pain or fear.
Death's pull: A puppet driven by blasphemous power, devoid of intelligence and self-awareness.
[Synopsis: The corpse of a kobold warrior, killed in the chaos of war, is forcibly resurrected by an unknown force. Lacking memories and reason from its previous life, it merely drags its mangled body by instinct. In life, they were weak mortals; in death, they are nothing more than cannon fodder, slowly fading into a second death.]
"To force the dead to return to the earth against their will and be at the mercy of others is a blasphemous power," said Shinzo, watching the zombie's retreating figure.
The two hung far behind the walking corpse.
The closer you get to the battlefield, the more zombies crawl out of the snowdrifts all around you.
Most of them were missing limbs, some were missing arms or legs, and some were even headless, stumbling among the horde of corpses.
Occasionally a few are well-preserved, but their movements are not exactly agile.
The walking corpses gradually gathered into a tide, like a group of fish swimming in the cold deep sea, blindly moving forward in the same direction, following the scent of the living.
Amidst the wind and snow, the crisp sounds of clashing weapons and roars gradually rose.
The battlefield is just ahead.
Liz suddenly stopped and extended a hand to Shinzo.
Xin Zang looked down at the hand, not understanding what the drow elf was going to do.
Seeing that he didn't move, Liz rolled her eyes, grabbed Xinzang's hand in annoyance, and pried his hand off.
A dark shadow rapidly spread from their clasped hands, like an invisible veil covering their entire bodies. Their figures instantly became blurred and transparent in the snow.
The shadows seemed to favor him, and the drow hybrid possessed extraordinary power that the Cinder had never used before.
"You know magic?" Xin Zang looked at her.
"I wish I didn't," Liz's voice sounded somewhat cold in the shadows. "Don't waste time. Didn't you want to gather information? Go take a look now."
Using shadow magic as cover, the two made their way to the high ground at the edge of the battlefield.
The view below suddenly opened up.
Hundreds and thousands of the dead are crowding on the snowfield, relentlessly attacking a wooden and stone fortress built on a slope.
Outside the city gate, dozens of dragon-blooded dog-headed men stood at the forefront, like reefs standing firm in the raging waves.
Their dark red scales are as hard as iron; when the rusty swords in the hands of the zombies cut into them, they can only produce a few faint sparks.
With a beast-like roar, the dragonblood kobold swung its exaggeratedly heavy hammer. Each swing and sweep smashed swathes of skeletons and rotting flesh in front of it into countless flying fragments.
Completely overwhelming in individual combat strength.
But the deaths continued unabated.
They felt no pain, knew no fear, and treaded on the remains of their companions, surging up like a gray-white tide, wave after wave, attempting to bury these large creatures alive with sheer numbers.