Bai Jian and Wang Shao walked cautiously through the dim corridors of the ruins, their steps echoing as they ventured deeper into the ancient stronghold.
The air grew colder, carrying a faint, sinister chill that seemed to seep into their bones. Soon, they emerged into a vast, cavernous hall, where the other disciples and the city lord's entourage had already gathered.
In the center of the hall, a massive stone coffin loomed, etched with intricate patterns and runes that pulsed faintly with dark energy. Its presence filled the air with an unsettling aura, as if it were drawing the life from everything around it. A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone stared at the coffin, an unspoken dread hanging over them.
City Lord Zheng Rui narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening as he took in the dark symbols scrawled across the coffin's surface. He took a step forward, his voice low but commanding. "This... is no ordinary relic. The aura emanating from this place reeks of demonic cultivation."
Just as he finished speaking, a chilling wind swept through the hall, and the ground began to tremble. The runes on the coffin flared to life with a sickly green glow, and a wave of oppressive energy washed over everyone. Bai Jian felt a shiver run down his spine as the aura thickened, pressing down on him like a heavy weight.
Suddenly, from the cracks in the stone floor, decayed hands clawed their way up, emerging from the earth as if summoned from the depths of hell itself. Rotting bodies, twisted and corrupted by demonic qi, began to crawl out, their empty eyes glowing with a malevolent light. The disciples around them recoiled in horror, their expressions a mix of fear and revulsion as the undead closed in around them.
Then, with a groaning creak, the lid of the coffin began to tremble. All eyes turned to it, frozen as they watched the heavy stone lid slide open, crashing to the floor with a thunderous echo. From within, a dark figure slowly rose, draped in tattered robes and exuding an aura of death and malice. His skin was pallid and decayed, his once-immortal features twisted and unrecognizable. Dark energy coiled around him, writhing like a storm of shadows.
The figure's hollow, sunken eyes glowed with a dark, unnatural light as he looked over the gathered disciples and cultivators. A cold, mocking smile twisted his cracked lips as he spoke, his voice hollow and chilling. "So many souls gathered here… You have come willingly to fuel my path to immortality."
City Lord Zheng Rui stepped forward, his aura flaring in defiance. "Celestial Wind Patriarch... So you've fallen this low, turning to the darkest of demonic techniques. You've sacrificed even the members of your own clan to extend your twisted existence. Such evil deserves no place on this earth."
The Zombie Patriarch let out a rasping laugh that filled the hall with a hollow echo. "Evil? You speak of righteousness while basking in your own power. The world is ruled by the strong. I did what I must to defy the heavens, to carve my own path. If sacrifices were required, so be it."
Zheng Rui's eyes flashed with anger, his voice filled with contempt. "Your twisted ambition has led you to betray everything a cultivator stands for. You deserve nothing less than eradication."
The Zombie Patriarch sneered, raising his decayed hand as a surge of dark qi flowed from him. "Eradicate me, you say? Let us see if you can withstand the wrath of the undead!" His gaze swept over his summoned minions, his voice a harsh command. "Rise, my soldiers! Devour them all!"
With a guttural growl, the undead surged forward, their decayed bodies moving with unnatural speed, their twisted limbs reaching out to tear at the living. The disciples around Bai Jian drew their weapons, forming a defensive circle as the wave of undead closed in. Bai Jian felt his heartbeat quicken, his mind focused as he steadied himself, Cloudsong in hand, ready to face the onslaught.