Starlight scattered over the sinkhole’s edge pooled at the broken segments of the Dragon Bone, the sheer scale of which meant the damage was large enough for several men to slip through.

Ye Xiu was the first to step into this place of ill omen. Outside was the white skeleton of the dragon, but inside was only a single, ash-grey wall. Once both of them had crossed the threshold, this wall rippled like disturbed water, silently enveloping them and drawing them inward.

“Damn, the airflow is intense. I bet some powerful master has lured us in again,” Old Liu, being heavier, landed first. He brushed the dust off himself, unfazed, looking at a grand, imposing doorway before them. His previous encounters had already built up a certain tolerance for these bizarre realms.

Ye Xiu landed right after him, immediately slapping the wall behind him. He knew that the essential nature of things hadn't changed; he had simply entered a space composed of a different energy matrix.

Old Liu squatted down to tie his shoelaces, muttering assertively, “This door probably won’t require my blood to open, will it? Looking at those bronze studs, one swing of your sickle would probably obliterate it.”

Ye Xiu was instantly reminded of the scene at the Palace of Eternal Lotus Dreams, where they needed Mo Shu’s vital blood combined with Old Liu’s blood to open a bronze door. The thought inevitably led him to Hong Ling. If Xi Shi had possessed Hong Ling’s body, where was she now? Or were they, perhaps, the same person?

Old Liu grabbed his Thin Blade and leaned against a corner of the bronze door. The door was immense, covered in streaks of red paint inlaid with golden powder, and the two panels were fixed rigidly into the earthen walls. These walls curved outward, dominating the entire space. “Do you remember what Shun Yi mentioned earlier?”

“The Soul-Soldier Talisman…” Ye Xiu certainly hadn't forgotten what Shun had spoken of. “In the traditional sense, a bingfu (military tally) was an object used by a general to command and muster troops during wartime. If this is a Hun Bing Fu (Soul-Soldier Talisman), could it possibly summon spirits to fight for you?”

Old Liu cautiously placed his hand on the bronze door, relieved that there were no spikes or hidden traps on its surface. “Holy hell, so if we manage to secure this artifact, doesn’t that mean we’ve found an invincible army?”

“That’s a possibility.” The thought filled Ye Xiu with sudden impulsiveness, and he kicked the bronze door open. The lineage of the Dark Death God sought to incite further carnage across the realms using the Soul-Soldier Talisman; this item was surely something utterly yin and evil.

Old Liu jumped back several paces, startled by Ye Xiu’s action. Just then, a blast of cold air rushed out from the doorway, hitting Old Liu’s face with a heavy cloud of grit and dust, choking him. “Ptooey, ptooey… What the heck is all this?”

Ye Xiu stood steady at the threshold, the light emanating from within illuminating his face a deep crimson.

“That’s Ever-Burning Lamp light!” Old Liu gasped, poking his head to peer into the world beyond the door. But there was only a vast expanse of sandy earth, large enough to hold a football stadium. In the center of the sand stood a raised platform, somewhat resembling a modern podium. “Ever-Burning Lamps are supposed to be in tombs. This place doesn’t look like a graveyard, though.”

Ye Xiu understood the function of the Ever-Burning Lamp as well. It wasn't inherently supernatural. The legend said it burned endlessly in a tomb; essentially, it was phosphorus. Tombs were typically oxygen-deprived, so when someone entered and introduced oxygen, the substance would spontaneously ignite, creating the illusion that the light had been burning for millennia.

Old Liu tiptoed onto the sandy ground. His steps were light, yet even these small movements kicked up thick layers of dust. He quickly covered his nose with his hand. “Why is the sand here so deep!”

Ye Xiu shook the dust off himself, following Old Liu, but his gaze was fixed on the platform in the center. “With a space this large, how many people could it hold?”

Old Liu looked around. There were many objects resembling fire basins lining the perimeter, and atop the central high platform rested a broad, low table. He thought for a moment. “Are you saying this place was meant to hold people? Is this some kind of drill ground? No, it looks more like a troop assembly field from those historical dramas.”

Ye Xiu smiled, pointing at Old Liu. “So you watch TV too. Don’t you think that high platform and table is a commander’s dais? And this expanse of sand below is where the soldiers would form ranks.”

“Don’t make me laugh. Commander’s dais, Soul-Soldier Talisman—are you saying we’re going to find the Talisman right here?” Old Liu found the notion incredible. To avoid kicking up too much dust, he flicked his Thin Blade across the ground, sending it flying towards the distant table, then used the blade’s tether to pull himself across to the table’s edge.

Ye Xiu landed lightly. This assembly ground was unnervingly silent, giving him a slight prickle on his scalp. He looked at Old Liu and asked strangely, “It’s barren all around. Where do you think the Soul-Soldier Talisman would be? Check under that table.”

Old Liu was eager when it came to artifacts, moving swiftly to the platform. The first thing he did was lean over to look under the table. Sure enough, a delicate cloth pouch lay nestled in the center. He cried out excitedly, “There’s a bag! Come look!”

Ye Xiu never imagined acquiring it would be this easy. He rushed toward the table, leaving behind swirling clouds of dust. Though the dust was heavy, when airborne, it formed a sweeping storm that made breathing difficult.

Old Liu used his Thin Blade to carefully hook the pouch out from under the table and lay it flat on the surface. The pouch wasn't large; its opening was cinched shut by a thick, dust-covered red cord. The body of the bag was a dull yellow, but what drew immediate attention was the dragon pattern in the center. This dragon had a head but no claws, and strangest of all, its body was very short, unlike any dragon in the traditional sense.

Ye Xiu pointed at the bag, signaling Old Liu to open it. However, at that moment, he began to notice the dust he had disturbed on his way over. Logically, the entire area was sealed; there was no wind, so the dust should have settled long ago. Why was it still drifting in the air with such unusual regularity?

Old Liu paid it no mind. He tried to use the Thin Blade to cut the opening, but the pouch, despite its ancient appearance, felt utterly impervious. The Thin Blade met no resistance. “The texture of this bag is extraordinary. Few things in this world can withstand the cut of the Thin Blade.”

“Wooo… wooo…” Before Old Liu could finish speaking, a howling wind suddenly erupted around them. There was no wind in this space, yet the sound seemed to reverberate wildly against the surrounding walls, like the battle cries of ten thousand eager soldiers. This was a troop assembly ground; had the souls of those ancient soldiers accumulated here?