242: Chapter 242: The Army of the Underworld is Mine

Xiao Ran stood before the altar, watching the direction where Venerable Huangquan's remnant Soul had dissipated, remaining motionless for a long time.

The dark purple glow on the altar had completely extinguished, leaving behind only cold stone slabs and the ancient runes carved upon them.

The decaying aura unique to the Netherworld in the air also gradually dispersed.

In its place was a faint fragrance, like the lingering scent left behind when wind blows through the petals of equinox flowers.

He looked down at the back of his hand.

The skull tattoo that had once appeared there had vanished, replaced by a looming dark-gold rune.

That was the Legacy Mark left behind by Venerable Huangquan.

With just a thought, he could summon the contents of the Yellow Springs True Scripture.

Xiao Ran closed his eyes, his Divine Sense sinking into his mind as he began to browse the Yellow Springs True Scripture.

The True Scripture was divided into two volumes, upper and lower.

The upper volume discussed Cultivation Techniques: how to temper the Divine Soul with yellow spring qi, how to condense the power of the undead, and how to open the Gate of Yellow Springs within the body.

The lower volume discussed Spells: Undead Summoning, Bone Puppets, Nether Ghostfire, Yellow Springs Boundary... all sorts of Spells, a dazzling variety that left him wide-eyed.

He quickly scanned through and found the part he was interested in.

That was the method to control the Huangquan Legion.

“The Huangquan Legion was created by Venerable Huangquan using undead Spells to refine the heroic Souls of ten thousand fallen soldiers.”

“The legion is eternal; they do not die and do not vanish.”

“The method of control requires yellow spring qi as a catalyst to bind the legion's core—the army soul—with an undead contract.”

Xiao Ran read the words in the book, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

“Where is the army soul?”

He continued reading and found the answer.

The army soul was right beneath the altar in the Yellow Springs Great Hall.

Before Venerable Huangquan fell, he sealed the core of the legion—a Tiger Tally engraved with the words 'Yellow Springs'—at the bottom of the altar.

By obtaining the Tiger Tally, one could control the entire Yellow Spring Army.

“Isn't this just a free gift?” Xiao Ran grinned.

He crouched down and pressed both hands onto the altar.

The Guixu Vortex activated, its grey-black swirl devouring the runes on the altar's surface.

Layers of runes peeled away, revealing the stone base beneath.

In the center of the base was a fist-sized indentation.

Lying quietly within the indentation was a dark-gold Tiger Tally.

The Tiger Tally was covered in dense runes, emitting a faint, eerie glow.

Xiao Ran reached out and took the Tiger Tally.

The moment the Tiger Tally entered his hand, he felt countless connections form in his mind.

Those connections were dense, like innumerable threads connecting to the over one thousand corpses outside the hall.

He could feel their heartbeats.

Though they had long since lost their hearts, that rhythm from the depths of their Souls clearly transmitted to his perception.

“Rise.” With a thought from Xiao Ran.

Outside the hall, those withered bones scattered across the ground stood up in unison.

Bone fragments flew up, reassembling into complete skeletons.

The skeletons mended, covered by a layer of dark grey spiritual light.

The spiritual light condensed, transforming into tattered armor and Long Halberds.

Over a thousand corpses lined up neatly on the wasteland outside the hall.

The ghostfire in their eye sockets was no longer blood-red, but eerie green.

That was the color of submission.

Xiao Ran felt their emotions.

There was no fear, no anger, only a mechanical obedience.

They could not think, they could not speak; they only executed orders.

“This is the true Huangquan Legion.” Xiao Ran nodded in satisfaction.

He tried giving them a simple command—form ranks.

The thousand-plus corpses instantly changed formation, shifting from a scattered square formation into a neat circular one.

Long Halberds pointed outward, shields inward, clearly layered.

“Form ranks.”

He tried again. The circular formation changed back to a square one.

“Advance.”

Over a thousand corpses stepped forward simultaneously, their strides so synchronized that the ground trembled.

Long Halberds were raised, their tips gleaming with a cold light.

Their speed wasn't fast, but every step fell on the same beat, like a precision war machine.

Xiao Ran retracted the command, and the corpses stopped in their tracks, standing by on the spot.

Standing at the hall's entrance, he looked at the thousand-plus corpses on the wasteland, a surge of pride rising in his heart.

With this Huangquan Legion, wouldn't he be able to walk horizontally through the ruins?

“A hundred Yao Race Prodigies? Just one spit from each of these would be enough to drown them.”

He couldn't help but laugh out loud.

But soon, he calmed down again.

While the Huangquan Legion was powerful, it wasn't invincible.

Their weakness lay in the yellow spring qi beneath the altar.

Without the nourishment of yellow spring qi, they could not resurrect infinitely.

And now that he controlled the Huangquan Legion, he had to use his own spiritual power to maintain their operation.

He sensed it; with over a thousand corpses acting simultaneously, the spiritual power consumed every breath was roughly one percent of his total spiritual power.

In other words, if fighting at full strength, he could support them for a maximum of a hundred breaths.

Beyond a hundred breaths, his spiritual power would be exhausted.

“So I can't be reckless; I have to use them sparingly.”

Xiao Ran made his calculations.

He put the Tiger Tally into his Storage Ring and turned to glance at the empty Yellow Springs Great Hall.

The ever-burning lamps had all gone out, the skull-pillar columns had lost their glow, and the runes on the altar had dimmed.

This palace, which had slept for ten thousand years, finally returned to complete silence.

“Senior Huangquan, may you rest in peace.”

Xiao Ran turned and walked out of the hall.

On the wasteland, the thousand-plus corpses were lined up neatly, awaiting his command.

He looked at this undead army, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Let's go. I'm taking you to kill some Yao.”

...

Just as Xiao Ran was subduing the Huangquan Legion, in other parts of the ruins, battles were also raging intensely.

Deep within the Skeleton Pit.

Li Changsheng crouched at the bottom of the pit, before him a massive skeleton.

The skeleton was ten feet tall, silvery-white all over, wearing tattered silver armor and holding a broken sword in its hand.

Golden flames burned in its eye sockets as it stared at Li Changsheng.

“That you could make it here shows you have some skill.”

The skeleton spoke, its voice low and deep, sounding like metal clashing.

Li Changsheng leaned against the pit wall, panting heavily, his body covered in wounds.

The skeletons in this pit were the most difficult opponents he had ever encountered—bar none.

They weren't like the fodder outside that crumbled at a touch; each one had the strength of a Late Stage Soul Transformation cultivator, and they coordinated perfectly, advancing and retreating in an orderly fashion.

He had fought for half an hour before carving a bloody path from the bottom of the pit to the deepest part.

“Who are you?” Li Changsheng asked.

“Me? I am the undead guarding this place. In life, I was an Elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect; later, I died in battle here and was trapped for ten thousand years by Venerable Huangquan's undead Spells.”

There was a hint of weariness in the skeleton's voice.

“I have been waiting for a fated person.”

“That you could make it here shows you are qualified to inherit my mantle.”

Li Changsheng was stunned: “Your mantle? Aren't you an Elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect? Shouldn't the Heavenly Sword Sect's mantle be passed to a Disciple of the Sword Sect?”

The skeleton was silent for a moment: “Heavenly Sword Sect? Sword Sect? I know nothing of what you speak.”

“I only know that on the last day I was alive, I killed more Yao than I had in my entire life.”

“Ten thousand years after death, my only wish is for someone to continue slaying demons and monsters in my stead.”

It reached out, a silvery-white longsword appearing in its palm.

The blade was translucent, with a faint blue light flowing over the edge, emitting a bone-chilling coldness.

“This sword is named Frost Chill; it was my personal sword in life.”

“Take it out and use it to kill a few more of the Yao Race; consider it a tribute to me.”