32: Chapter 32 The Uninvited Guest

Dusk, half a month later.

Lu Family Hollow was like a beast that had finished licking its wounds and was digesting flesh and blood, gathering strength in the silence.

The supplies of Black Wind Stockade had long since been exhausted, and the century-old accumulation of the Chen family was like fresh blood, greedily injected into this war machine known as a "family."

In front of the ancestral hall, a furnace planned and supervised by the player "Infrastructure Maniac" burned red-hot, illuminating the sturdy figures of players in the smithy, stripped to the waist and sweating.

On the other side, several female players were carefully following the alchemy recipe seized from the Chen family, attempting to ignite the first furnace of alchemy fire.

Bustling, busy, and orderly.

However, beneath this lively facade was the Sword of Damocles hanging over everyone's head.

[World Event: Shadow of the Black Lotus].

[Failure Penalty: Family annihilation, ancestral graves dug up, all player accounts permanently deleted.]

That line of blood-red text, like the most vicious curse, was branded into the depths of every player's soul.

It taught the most arrogant brutes to be cautious, and made the most opportunistic speculators understand reverence.

Several reconnaissance squads led by "Gossip Reporter Little Trumpet" had already been cast out like fishing nets, disappearing into the twilight deep within the Northern Mountains for three full days.

To this day, there was no news.

This unknown made the waiting excruciatingly painful.

At the entrance of the ancestral hall, the newly promoted leader of the "Shield Wall Style," "Shield Mountain," was leaning against a pillar, wiping his giant shield, which had been modified from the Chen family's gate and inlaid with refined steel.

His figure was like a mountain, his presence steady; just standing there gave people a sense of indestructible reliability.

Suddenly, his wiping motion paused.

It was a baseless, chilling sensation, as if he were being stared at by a natural predator, shooting from the base of his spine all the way up to his crown.

He jerked his head up, looking toward the direction of the village entrance.

The sky, originally dyed golden-red by the setting sun, had somehow been stained by an invisible block of ink, and the light was dimming at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The wind stopped.

The chirping of insects and birds, the clanging of the smithy, the shouts of players in the distance... all sounds were cut off in an instant by an invisible hand.

Dead silence.

A dead silence even purer and more suffocating than when the "Ancestral Spirit's Wrath" descended.

"Enemy attack—!"

"Shield Mountain's" roar was like a thunderclap, breaking this eerie tranquility.

He didn't even have time to think about who the enemy was or where they came from; the intuition stemming from his former life as a professional soldier had already caused him to protect himself firmly with his two-hundred-jin giant shield.

Almost simultaneously, on the watchtower at the village entrance, the player responsible for guarding let out the last shrill scream of his life.

The next moment, that watchtower, built of hardwood and three zhang high, was like something eroded by a thousand years of time, silently turning into a handful of flying ash that drifted in the dim air.

Along with the two players on it, not even a trace of flesh and blood remained.

All the players' pupils contracted violently.

There was no explosion, no magical radiance, not even the slightest ripple of energy.

It just... disappeared.

On the dusty path at the village entrance, a figure walked slowly.

He wore a wide black robe, the hood covering most of his face, revealing only a chin that was pale and devoid of any color.

He walked very slowly, every step as if measured by a ruler, precise and elegant, as if he were not walking toward the nest of a "mad demon" that had just slaughtered a cultivation family, but rather strolling in his own back garden.

It was an arrogance rooted in the marrow, an indifference that viewed all things as straw dogs.

"Stop! Who are you!"

More than a dozen players who had just rushed out of the smithy, holding newly forged hundred-refined steel sabers, mustered their courage to block his path.

They stood scattered, faintly forming a battle formation, clearly having learned from countless bloody lessons.

The black-robed figure stopped.

He did not speak, only slowly raised his head; beneath the shadow of the hood, two points of eerie red light lit up, like a demon god in the abyss staring at ants.

"Hack him!"

A player roared, hot blood washing away fear; he gripped his saber with both hands, using all his strength, and slashed down at the black-robed figure's head with a "Force Splitting Mount Hua" move learned from the Black Wind Saber Technique.

The blade tore through the air, carrying a fierce whistling sound.

However, that steel saber, capable of splitting rocks, stopped abruptly three feet above the black-robed figure's head.

It was not blocked, nor was it stopped by a spell.

It simply stopped in mid-air.

The player holding the saber turned purple, the veins on his arms bulging like earthworms; he used all his strength, but could not make the blade advance even a fraction.

The black-robed figure seemed to find it a bit boring; he extended a finger, pale to the point of being translucent, and tapped lightly on the steel saber.

"Ding."

A sound crisper than shattering porcelain.

That steel saber, which had been forged through the painstaking efforts of several life-skill players, began to break inch by inch from the tip, turning into metal dust that filled the sky and fell with a rustle.

Immediately after, it was the player's body.

His skin, flesh, and bones, just like that steel saber, began to weather and dissipate inch by inch from his fingers, eventually turning into a pile of fine gray dust.

He didn't even have time to let out a scream.

The white light of resurrection did not shine.

All the players surrounding him clearly saw on their system panels that the avatar belonging to their teammate had permanently turned gray.

Below was a cold system prompt:

[Your teammate 'Soul Under Blade' has died, character data is corrupted, resurrection is impossible, account permanently deleted.]

Boom!

Fear, like a bursting flood, instantly collapsed everyone's psychological defenses.

If Chen Xiao's strength was sharp spells and a "high-damage BOSS" that needed to be filled with lives, then the black-robed figure before them represented a kind of suppression on the level of "rules" that was completely incomprehensible and impossible to resist.

He was not killing people.

He was... erasing an "existence."

"Crazy... run! Run!"

Don't know who screamed in a breakdown, their remaining sanity completely destroyed; a dozen players turned and ran, wishing their parents had given them two more legs.

However, the black-robed figure just stood there calmly, as if he didn't even have the desire to act.

After running a dozen steps, the bodies of those fleeing players froze one by one, and then, like air-dried clay sculptures, they collapsed to the ground, shattering into piles of human-shaped dust.

From beginning to end, the black-robed figure only moved one finger.

The entire Lu Family Hollow once again fell into that desperate, dead silence.

The surviving players, some hiding behind houses, others huddled in corners, were trembling like sieves, their breathing even stalled.

"Shield Mountain" gritted his teeth so hard that his gums bled; he blocked the entrance of the ancestral hall with his giant shield, but his legs trembled uncontrollably.

He was battle-hardened and used to life and death, but he had never felt such pure despair that made even the thought of resistance impossible to conceive.

The black-robed figure ignored those shivering "ants"; he crossed the messy square, walked step by step to the front of the ancestral hall, and stopped in front of "Shield Mountain."

He did not look at "Shield Mountain," but raised his head, his gaze penetrating the giant shield, penetrating the walls of the ancestral hall, and landing on the deepest part, upon the enshrined spirit tablet.

His voice, hoarse and low, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, clearly spread throughout the entire Lu Family Hollow.

"My master heard that an incredible 'Old Ancestor' had appeared in the Northern Mountains, and specifically sent me to... pay a visit."

Inside the ancestral hall, the core players led by "I Love Exploiting Loopholes" and "Infrastructure Maniac" were already deathly pale.

Through the cracks in the door, they had witnessed the one-sided massacre outside.

That was no longer a battle; it was a god cleaning stains off a scroll.

"What do we do?" The face of "Demolition Office Director," covered in fat, was devoid of any color, and his hand holding the ghost-head saber was shaking like he had malaria.

"I Love Exploiting Loopholes" took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

He knew that now, these so-called "core players," in front of such an existence, were no different from the players outside who had been instantly killed.

The only variable was...

He jerked his head up, looking at the spirit tablet belonging to "Lu Bei," the one at the very top.

At this moment, the temperature inside the ancestral hall plummeted.

An indescribable pressure, grand, ancient, and desolate, like an archaic divine mountain that had been sleeping since the dawn of time, slowly awakened.

It was not the violent crushing of [Ancestral Spirit's Wrath], but a deeper, more essential "presence."

It was as if this world, this space, had let out an unbearable groan because of its awakening.

The "Lu Bei" spirit tablet in the center of the ancestral hall emitted a faint, dim light that seemed capable of swallowing all light.

A cold, indifferent voice, devoid of any emotion, rang directly in the minds of the black-robed figure and all the surviving players.

"Your master... which dog is he?"

The figure under the black-robed person's hood jerked violently.

Those two points of eerie red light flickered violently for the first time.

He could feel that a terrifying divine sense, no less than his own master's, had locked onto him tightly.

In this divine sense, there was decay, death, and... a hint of madness that didn't belong to this world, which made even him feel palpitations.

He slowly and stiffly bowed; this was no longer etiquette, but an instinctive reaction of his body under the pressure of that terrifying divine sense.

"My master's title is 'Blood Slaughter'." The black-robed messenger's voice carried a hint of solemnity for the first time. "Blood Slaughter Demon Lord, hearing that your Excellency has extraordinary bone structure, specifically ordered me to come... and offer greetings."

He deliberately emphasized the words "bone structure."

The players inside the ancestral hall might not understand, but in the exchange of wills between those two existences, this was already a naked provocation.

—We know your true form is that skeleton.

That grand voice was silent for a moment.

The air in the entire Lu Family Hollow seemed to have frozen.

Just as the black-robed messenger thought the other party had been hit in their vital spot and was preparing to probe further, the voice rang out again. This time, it contained a hint of playfulness, and... a hint of bone-chilling "hunger."

"Blood Slaughter, is it..."

"This seat has been sleeping for too long and is just lacking some sacrifices to restore vitality. Your master's divine soul smells... quite delicious."

"You may leave now. By the way, deliver a message for this seat."

"Tell that dog called Blood Slaughter to wash his neck clean and wait in his own ash urn. This seat... will arrive soon."