But just then, countless images flooded Lu Zong’s mind. Those countless eyes poured out from the ghost-hole of the Jingjue Ancient City, incessantly sucking the blood of the living. In an instant, every living person he saw turned into white bones, and the bones possessed the red eyes and black serpent heart, identical to the skeletons before him. They lined up in formation, dispersing neatly to fulfill their final mission, while he stood atop a magnificent palace, watching it all unfold, completely unmoved. This world seemed to have transformed into a living hell, devoid of any vitality, containing only death and bone, the entire world shrouded in darkness.

"Hiss!" As his mind raced, a skeletal claw seized Lu Zong's clothing and began tearing at it. His body was lifted by the skeleton. A mere gentle pull from the skeleton might send him straight to meet Marx.

Yet, Lu Zong offered no struggle. The pistol slipped from his grasp. He looked back at Han Chong with open, pained eyes—a farewell, a parting between life and death.

"Lu Zong!" With a sharp cry, Han Chong raised the entrenching shovel and brought it down hard on the skeleton grasping Lu Zong. The skeleton shuddered several times, several ribs in its abdomen cracked, but this did not impede its movement.

"Lu Zong, hurry up and hit it!" Ma Xiong, who was grappling nearby, suddenly noticed the dire situation and urged anxiously. Fatty also began to slowly maneuver toward them, but each of them was locked in combat with two skeletons, unable to break free. Fatty, in particular, was pinned into a corner of the tomb chamber with no escape, and Ma Xiong wasn't faring much better. Only Han Chong seemed relatively unburdened, still managing to cope.

"Lu Zong, move it!" Han Chong parried another skeleton while keeping a frantic eye on Lu Zong. Seeing him held motionless in the skeleton's grip, she almost wept as she shouted, yet he remained utterly passive, as if none of it concerned him.

"Bang!" Suddenly, the skeleton fighting Han Chong landed a solid punch on her back. Han Chong’s entire focus had been on Lu Zong, leaving her momentarily unguarded.

"Whoosh!" Han Chong's body shot forward, slamming into the fresco depicting the Jingjue Queen. The pickaxe that had been thrust into the painting of the Queen remained lodged there, and Han Chong’s forehead narrowly missed striking the other sharp point of the pickaxe.

"Lao Hu, Lao Hu, hurry up and move..." Han Chong struggled to rise, clutching her mouth, speaking in broken gasps.

Lu Zong’s vision was blurry. Lu Zong didn't know what Lu Zong was doing. Lu Zong desperately wanted to break free from the skeleton’s clutches, even more so to save the woman and the brother he cherished, but none of it was up to Lu Zong. It seemed the thoughts inside Lu Zong’s body did not obey Lu Zong’s will, Lu Zong’s limbs refused his command, and his mouth would not open. Lu Zong could only watch the unfolding events, utterly unable to prevent the tragedy. Lu Zong could only watch these tragic scenes play out, appearing like a cold-blooded animal, or perhaps the very architect of the carnage.

Seeing Han Chong's agony, Lu Zong felt a knife twisting back and forth in his chest. At that moment, Lu Zong saw something unbelievable. Lu Zong saw the ear of the Queen in the fresco twitch, and heard a thin, sharp laugh—a sound that seemed to emanate from hell yet carried a strange familiarity. But something even more horrifying occurred: just as Han Chong struggled to rise, the pickaxe impaling the Jingjue Queen’s ear in the fresco seemed to shift slightly, then loosened from the Queen's ear, its tip slowly angling toward Han Chong’s head.

"Han Chong, run! You have to run!" Lu Zong’s heart became frantic.

Lu Zong suddenly snapped his eyes open, a crimson light blazing from them. Lu Zong’s consciousness seemed to be slowly returning. Lu Zong had no idea why he had become like this, or what power could strip him of his willpower and fighting strength.

However, even as Lu Zong remained groggy, some unknown force surged through his body, enabling him to tear free from the skeleton. Lu Zong lunged toward Han Chong; his only thought was to intercept the falling pickaxe. Lu Zong needed to protect his beloved.

Ma Xiong and the others, seeing Lu Zong regain his will, redoubled the ferocity of their attacks on the skeletons.

The pickaxe drew closer and closer to Han Chong’s body; death was closing in on her. No matter how fast Lu Zong moved, he couldn't outpace the pickaxe, especially as those two skeletons were now attacking Lu Zong head-on.

"Lu Zong—you—son—of—a—b*tch!" Lu Zong suddenly unleashed the foulest curses he had learned fighting the devils on the frontline, roaring as he snatched the discarded entrenching shovel from Han Chong’s hand and swung it at the skeletons.

"Crack!" The two skeletons collapsed instantly, their bones scattering across the ground. At the center of their chests, the heart formed by the coiled black serpent instantly dispersed, and the two flashing red eyeballs from within the skulls rolled out. Looking down, Lu Zong realized that the structure on the red ear was actually the fleshy crown on the head of a black serpent. The black serpents scattered everywhere, simultaneously launching their attack.

"Damn it! Bring it on! Let the storm rage harder!" Lu Zong’s eyes turned blood-red. He gripped the entrenching shovel tightly, wearing an expression of absolute defiance.

"Slap! Slap..." The sound of the entrenching shovel striking the tomb floor echoed repeatedly. The black serpents were chopped into pieces by Lu Zong; segments of their bodies writhed on the ground. Lu Zong’s body and face were splattered with the black serpent’s blood.

Fatty and Ma Xiong, perhaps inspired, focused their attacks on the skeletons' hearts, ensuring the skeletal remains were utterly pulverized.

"Bad! Where is that pickaxe?" Lu Zong’s heart sank. He looked up toward Han Chong.

But there was no sign of Han Chong on the ground—only the pickaxe, its tip thrust into the earth. Thank heavens! It hadn't struck her. It hadn't struck Lu Zong's beloved.

But where did she go? Why could he not see her? She was right there a moment ago; how could she vanish so quickly?

"Heh heh! Heh heh!" Suddenly, the ear on the Jingjue Queen fresco blinked again, emitting a series of bizarre, sharp laughs. Why were there so many unsettling ears? These real and illusory ears were pushing Lu Zong toward collapse. The ears on his back, the ears on the broken wall, the ears between the statues of the gold and silver twin snakes, the ear of the Queen in the mural, and the blinking ear in the center of the gold and silver coffins...

What message were these myriad strange ears trying to convey? And what about that mysterious power? Why did Lu Zong feel groggy during some of the visions, as if he had seen them before? In Jin Ping Mei? Unlikely. And what about the reason for Fatty’s petrification? A curse, or some deeper mystery? And why, at the moment of extreme danger, did he suddenly lose all resistance, as if his body belonged not to him, but to another world in his haze? Where was that world? And where was that magnificent palace?