16: Chapter 16 Firelight in a Pile of Corpses

As the red firelight crossed the hillside, it fell right into seven pairs of upturned eyes.

Below the mountain path, the Red Snake Sect reinforcement squad had just stepped onto the third section of stone stairs.

The Cultivator in the front was still carrying an empty beast bag, its opening still reeking of a gamey, fishy stench; it had originally been intended to hold the Spirit Medicine and Yao Beast cores they were going to scavenge from the Taichu Sect.

The Inner Sect Disciple in the middle of the squad wore a dark red martial outfit, with a string of snake bone wrist beads wrapped around his left wrist.

Every few steps, the bone beads would gently knock against his bracer, emitting a faint, crisp sound.

"The bunch up there is really dragging their feet," the Cultivator with the beast bag grinned. "A crappy Sect, just a few stray dogs, and they still need to send a message after killing for this long?"

Someone nearby replied, "Maybe they found something good and are calling us up to lend a hand."

The laughter rolled a few yards down the mountain path before being suppressed back into their throats by the mountain wind.

The wind blew down from above, carrying the smell of blood.

It was faint, but mixed with the choking scent of burnt flesh, beast oil, and scorched medicinal herbs, as if someone had shoved an entire courtyard into a fire to roast.

The Cultivator with the beast bag laughed halfway, his teeth still bared, but his fingers tightened around the bag's drawstring.

The snake bone wrist beads stopped.

The Inner Sect Disciple raised his hand, and the seven of them immediately stopped.

He looked at the red line that had not yet dissipated above the mountainside, his eyelids lowering, his nostrils twitching slightly.

"It's not to collect the spoils of war," he said. "It's a call for help."

Someone at the back of the squad frowned, "The people Deacon Han brought aren't weak. Can the Taichu Sect's measly remnant formations really hold them off?"

The Inner Sect Disciple did not answer.

He took a palm-sized Spirit Sparrow from his sleeve, its body pieced together from thin bronze fragments and spirit feathers, its eyes inlaid with two specks of dark green crystal sand.

He wiped his thumb over the talisman markings on the sparrow's back, and the Spirit Sparrow's wings vibrated, emitting a sharp, thin cry.

"Don't go up all at once."

He tossed the Spirit Sparrow into the air.

The Spirit Sparrow skimmed up against the mountain wall, avoiding the main mountain path, and wove through the scattered rocks and withered pines.

Two Detection Talismans flew out afterward, one after the other, like two shriveled yellow leaves sliding upward along the ground.

Someone whispered, "Senior Brother, so cautious?"

The Inner Sect Disciple turned his face, the snake bone beads on his wrist clashing with a soft sound.

"Cautious people can leave the mountain alive."

The mountain wind rolled down another wisp of smoke.

This time, the smell of blood was stronger.

In the outer courtyard of the mountain gate, the Red Snake Sect Deacon's red blade was stuck in the rubble, the hilt still wobbling.

Sect Master Di Kun pulled his short blade from the side of the Deacon's throat, a line of blood splattering onto the red copper snake ring by the threshold.

The Deacon's fingers were still clawing at the ground, his fingernails full of ash, and a wheezing sound squeezed from his throat, eventually drowned out by the sparks leaking from under the collapsed beam.

"Sect Master, people really have come up from the bottom of the mountain!" The Tower Defense Youth flipped down from the roof ridge, crushing a loose roof tile and nearly sliding into a shallow pit. "I only have half a jar of oil left on my side, and one crossbow is jammed."

The Speedrun Youth crouched by the wall, scratching lines on the stone surface with a charcoal pencil, his hands covered in ash. "The old route can't be used anymore; three places in the narrow corridor have collapsed, the shallow pits are exposed, and the crossbow positions are exposed too. If a smarter squad comes, they'll break the wall first if they enter from the front."

The Dark Souls Youth stood, supporting himself against a broken door frame, his face as white as if he had just been fished out of water, dragging his broken wooden sword on the ground, the tip scraping a trail of bloodstains.

His mouth twitched. "I can still hold the front line."

Sect Master Di Kun didn't look at him, crouching down by the pile of corpses first.

The coarse cloth on his chest was soaked with blood, his lapel sticking to his wound, pulling his skin tight whenever he moved.

He sheathed his short blade behind his waist and reached out to rummage through the Red Snake Sect Deacon's sleeve pocket, waist pouch, and the hidden layer in his boot, his movements as fast as if he were dismantling a mechanism.

A bottle of Qi-replenishing pills, three low-grade healing pills, two rope talismans, a short dagger with a broken tip, and a small red copper box.

He opened the copper box; inside lay two thumb-sized red beads side by side, their surfaces covered in fine fire patterns, and one could feel the heat even from half a foot away.

The Tower Defense Youth's eyes lit up instantly. "Explosive Fire Beads?"

Sect Master Di Kun picked one up and rolled it half a turn between his fingers.

The fire patterns flashed along the bead's surface, reflecting red in his eyes.

"Good stuff."

The Life-Skill Player had already led several handymen to pounce on the Demon Mastiff corpses and Split-Tooth Wolf bones.

Someone used a firewood chopper to pry open the Demon Mastiff's spine, others cut off the beast tendons, and some collected the corpse oil in broken pottery bowls.

The bone spurs of the Split-Tooth Wolves were pulled out one by one, roughly polished, and piled by the stone steps, their tips still stained with black blood.

"The beast tendons are still usable; they have enough elasticity when tightened."

The Life-Skill Player wrapped a section of wolf tendon around his hand twice, straining his knuckles until they turned white. "The bone spurs can be used as piercing nails, and the Demon Mastiff oil ignites as soon as it's lit; it creates a lot of smoke, and the smell is toxic too."

The Chuunibyou Youth covered his nose nearby. "This art style isn't cultivation anymore; this is a slaughterhouse Ascension."

"Shut up and move the oil," Sect Master Di Kun said.

The Chuunibyou Youth immediately picked up the pottery bowl, but after running two steps, he turned back. "Sect Master, should we give this move a name? The Ten Thousand Bone Serpent-Burning Formation?"

The Sect Protection Elder kicked away a broken piece of wood beside him, his face livid. "What time do you think it is, and you're still thinking of names!"

He led people to search the Red Snake Sect corpses, preparing to drag the bodies to the corner of the courtyard.

When they dragged the second one, a waist medallion flipped out from behind the corpse's waist, its back hitting the stone and revealing a square seal.

The Sect Protection Elder's wrist paused.

He picked up the waist medallion and wiped away the blood and mud with his sleeve.

The front of the medallion bore the Red Snake Sect emblem, but the back was engraved with a transit seal from the Border Wasteland Sect Affairs Bureau.

The seal was not deep, but it was regular, and there were three thin grooves on the edge, unique to the Sect Affairs Bureau.

"Sect Master." The Sect Protection Elder handed over the medallion, his voice low. "This is not a normal private feud."

Sect Master Di Kun took the medallion, his fingertips brushing over the three thin grooves.

The metal was cold, and there was a bit of cinnabar embedded in the grooves.

Sect Affairs Bureau.

The grading, abolition, passage, and dispute mediation of small Sects in the Border Wasteland could not bypass these four words.

If the people from the Red Snake Sect brought this up the mountain, and if the Taichu Sect hadn't wiped them all out, what would come next wouldn't be neighboring Cultivators, but blades cloaked in the guise of rules.

Sect Master Di Kun stuffed the medallion into his sleeve and looked up at the mess in the courtyard.

Broken beams lay across the bloody mud, Yao Beast corpses were sliced open, Cultivator corpses were piled at the base of the wall, and only half of an old Formation Flag remained, still hanging by the doorway, being blown by the wind to slap against the charred wooden pillar again and again.

This place didn't look like a Sect; it looked more like a mouth that had just crushed an enemy.

The Sect Protection Elder looked at his hand and whispered, "Sect Master, if the Sect Affairs Bureau asks..."

"Let them have the life to ask first."

Sect Master Di Kun turned and walked toward the entrance of the Inner Courtyard.

The Dark Souls Youth was still standing there, trying to steady his broken wooden sword.

Halfway up, his arm shook, and the tip of the sword slammed into the stone surface, splashing up two spots of bloody mud.

Sect Master Di Kun stopped. "You pull back half a line."

The Dark Souls Youth looked up. "I can die, and be pulled back up after I die."

"You're not talking about a simple death now." Sect Master Di Kun looked at the layer of gray in his eyes that wouldn't dissipate. "If you charge the front line again, it's hard to say if you'll even be able to recognize the way back next time."

The Dark Souls Youth's lips moved.

The Tower Defense Youth reached out and pressed his shoulder. "Listen to the Sect Master. You almost mistook the threshold for a BOSS phase two just now."

The Dark Souls Youth moved his hand away from the sword hilt, his fingertips still trembling.

He didn't argue further, retreating into the shadow of the side wall, sitting down with his back against the wall.

Pale silver text floated before Sect Master Di Kun's eyes, like thin ice covering the edge of his vision.

Sect Defense Battle completion rate increased.

Can consume spoils of war to temporarily repair partial remnant formations.

Requires Sect Luck to support.

The text lingered for a moment before sinking back into the depths of his vision.

Sect Master Di Kun pressed his fingertips against the Explosive Fire Bead, not immediately using it to repair the remnant formations.

He turned his head to look toward the mountain path, where two Detection Talismans had already neared the rubble before the outer courtyard, and a bronze Spirit Sparrow circled high above, its wings cutting through the smoke and dust, not in a hurry to land.

"They aren't taking the bait." The Speedrun Youth stared at the route on the stone surface, his charcoal pencil stopping. "The second squad is steadier than the first. The Spirit Sparrow checks the high points first, the Detection Talismans scan the ground, and they will dismantle the front-facing mechanisms one by one."

The Tower Defense Youth cursed. "Then what we just repaired is useless? They'll see through it at a glance?"

Sect Master Di Kun put the two Explosive Fire Beads into the red copper box, which made a soft sound when closed.

"Then don't let them see the place where we actually intend to kill them."

He crouched among the pile of corpses, holding the red copper box in one hand and pressing his other hand against a freshly sharpened Demon Mastiff bone spike.

The tip of the bone spike pressed against his palm, leaving a white mark.

He watched the Spirit Sparrow flying lower and lower in mid-air, his gaze as cold as if he were choosing a handy tool.

On the mountain path, the figures of the seven Red Snake Sect members finally appeared from behind the withered pines.

They did not charge.

The two in the front held shields, separating left and right; the Inner Sect Disciple stood on the platform halfway up the mountain, the snake bone beads on his left wrist turning one by one against his bracer.

The Spirit Sparrow circled around the collapsed wall, and the Detection Talismans slid along the bloody mud into the edge of the outer courtyard, the talisman paper igniting with a faint wisp of blue smoke.

Sect Master Di Kun handed the bone spike to the Life-Skill Player and whispered, "Dismantle it cleanly. Next round, we change tactics."