Chapter 118: Stripping the Imperial Robe

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

There were only a dozen or so disciples from Mount Qingcheng, fewer than twenty including Zhou Yi and his companions. Yet, as Zhou Yi shouted that word, it was as if the blood in everyone’s veins had been ignited. The shouts that followed echoed like the roar of a thousand armies.

The contingent led by the Emperor of Liang instinctively took two steps back. The Emperor was stunned; he had not expected that the man before him had come from Mount Qingcheng to seek vengeance. Even more, he had not imagined that his own schemes, and indeed all the plans of the Netherworld Mountain, had been laid bare. Seeing the unwavering certainty in the young man’s eyes, he knew that the Netherworld Mountain was finished.

He wanted to retreat; he wanted to flee. But the gates of the Netherworld Mountain were right behind him—where could he run? Back to the capital? As Zhou Yi had said, the capital had already announced the mourning. The Prince of Wu had been pushed forward by the courtiers to take charge in this time of crisis. If he returned, who would recognize him as the Emperor of Liang?

He looked toward the Netherworld Mountain. If there were anyone left inside, or if there were any hope of salvation, surely they would have opened the gates by now. Yet, for over half an hour, the gates had remained shut, while flashes of fire and the pungent scent of scorched remains constantly emanated from within. It was clear the Netherworld Mountain could no longer even save itself.

Suddenly, the Emperor felt a deep sense of dread toward the man before him. It must have been him who incited the Prince of Wu's coup. He had inherited the mantle of Mount Qingcheng, led a group to burn down the Netherworld Mountain, and presumably killed the Sect Master—now, only he remained.

The Emperor closed his eyes. There was no way out, and he lacked the courage to take his own life. The sounds of slaughter, the wails, and the thuds of men struck by arrows falling to the ground echoed incessantly in his ears.

After an unknown amount of time, everything fell silent. The sounds of running and shouting ceased, though the faint noise of blades piercing flesh still lingered. He opened his eyes slowly. The longsword he had held had long since fallen, and he looked around with trembling eyes.

Bodies. Everywhere he looked, there were bodies. The imperial guards who had been protecting him lay on the ground; those not yet dead were being finished off.

Zhou Yi stared at him. Finding a sudden surge of courage, the Emperor shouted loudly, "I am the fish on the chopping block, and you are the knife—if you want to kill me, then do it!"

Zhou Yi looked at the Emperor and threw his head back in laughter. At this moment, whether to kill him or not no longer held any significance. The hatred on the faces of Ye Qing and the others had largely dissipated. They were not fools; seeing Zhou Yi and his group emerge covered in wounds, it was obvious they had already engaged in battle. With the fires still raging within the Netherworld Mountain, they could kill this remaining contingent without hesitation; clearly, the people of the Netherworld Mountain had already been dealt with.

Ye Qing’s lips trembled. Struggling to control his turbulent emotions, he looked at Zhou Yi and fell to his knees with a thud. "Please, Sect Master, give your orders: should this man be sent back to the capital, or dealt with elsewhere?"

Zhou Yi waved his hand. Sophia stepped forward to help Ye Qing up, and the others who had knelt behind him also wiped their eyes and stood.

"Strip him of his imperial robes, seal his five senses, and send a party to escort him back to the capital. Once there, Shi Qing will naturally arrange for him to be taken to the Prince of Wu’s residence. As for how to dispose of him, that is not for us to decide. The Netherworld Mountain has been razed, our great vengeance is satisfied, and we can finally bring peace to the spirit of our late Sect Master!"

Ye Qing bowed in acknowledgment and signaled toward the Emperor. The Emperor’s clothes were replaced with the same attire worn by Ye Qing and his men, and a mask was placed over his face. With this transformation, not even the court ministers or the denizens of the inner palace would be able to recognize him. Six men were selected to escort him, their faces filled with excitement, standing tall and proud, fearing only that Zhou Yi might not notice them.

Zhou Yi nodded in satisfaction; they were the best ones for this task. "Go, be careful on the road. Once you have delivered him, return directly to Mount Qingcheng!"

"As you command!"

The six men did not linger and quickly departed with the Emperor of Liang in custody. Zhou Yi glanced at Sophia; she looked toward the interior of the Netherworld Mountain and gave a slight nod.

"The fire has dimmed a little. We can go inside and have a look around, but be careful—there may be traps."

Zhou Yi waved his hand. "A-Su, Ye Qing, Fatty, and Da Cheng, each of you take three people. I will wait for you at the main hall. Once the search is complete, gather there quickly. Be cautious; do not touch any liquids you cannot identify. After all, they were mass-producing corpse oil and various potions for resurrecting souls."

Zhou Yi’s words made them all shiver. Each team split up to cover several halls and buildings, beginning a carpet search to ensure no one escaped. Before leaving, Zhou Yi touched Sophia and pointed to the sky.

"Watch out for the vulture; that bird hasn’t returned yet."

Sophia nodded. She had originally wondered why Zhou Yi chose to stand at the main hall—which was now nothing more than a charred, hollow frame—but she realized it was to keep watch for the vulture. A trace of emotion flickered across her face. "Understood. You be careful as well. If you spot it, give a warning; if we can’t catch it, we’ll use fire."

Zhou Yi smiled at her. "Go. Be careful not to touch any strange liquids. If you find any survivors, kill them immediately, and bring all remains to the main hall. We will do a final count."

The four teams departed. Zhou Yi watched the direction they took. The buildings were brick and stone, so even after the fire, the main structures remained intact, save for the ruined roofs. Zhou Yi turned and looked at the main hall. A dozen pillars still stood, and the roof had not burned completely, though fragments of tile constantly clattered to the ground.

Looking at the dilapidated hall, and especially the bone bed in the center, Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes. Did the old hag really only need souls and corpse oil to resurrect the Black-Robed State Preceptor? Zhou Yi dismissed the thought. This world was one rich in resources, or there wouldn't be so many sects and factions. The arts they cultivated relied on various elemental properties; the most effective way to improve quickly was to find spirit stones, such as those in the Five Elements Tombs.

Zhou Yi looked toward the corner of the hall. There were no chests or cabinets here; the most eye-catching object was the bone bed. If the State Preceptor’s soul was kept here in a clay pot, might there be other things hidden away?

Zhou Yi crouched down and felt around. The bed looked as if it were piled together from bones, but when he pushed against it, it didn't budge. He couldn't tell what method had been used to bind the bones together. Just as he explored the edge of the bed frame, his hand pressed against a slightly protruding bone.

*Click.*

A crisp sound rang out. Zhou Yi’s spirits lifted. The previously immovable bone bed opened a door on its side, and a wooden box slowly rose from within. Zhou Yi did not rush to grab the box—the old hag was vicious, and if she had left a trap, it would be enough to cost him dearly.

He used the tip of his boot to nudge the lid open and retreated a few meters. After observing for a while and seeing no movement, he jumped back over. Looking down at the contents of the box, Zhou Yi’s heart skipped a beat.

What was this?

Inside the box sat a white clay pot. Whether it was due to the force of the box rising or because the lid had never been sealed properly, it had slid to one side, leaving the pot open. Zhou Yi leaned in slightly and peered inside. As he moved, it seemed to shimmer with light, but upon closer inspection, it vanished. He reached out and lifted the clay pot. Fearing there might be a trap beneath it, he checked it over and, finding nothing, tipped the pot over onto the ground.

*Clatter.* A pile of colorful stones spilled out. Some were the size of quail eggs, others as small as soybeans. They were oval, teardrop-shaped, and of every imaginable form, their colors a vibrant array of red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and violet.

They looked a bit like the decorative stones found in a fish tank. Zhou Yi was puzzled. If these were truly ordinary stones, the old hag would never have hidden them beneath a bone bed, let alone protected them with such a mechanism that had survived even the intense fire.

Zhou Yi carefully picked up a yellow stone and held it up to the sunlight. It was translucent, and within it, he saw fibrous, crystal-like inclusions. This was definitely not glass.

Just as he was pondering this, the voice of the Stone Egg suddenly rang out.

"Quick, put them away. You can absorb them later... give it a try!"

Zhou Yi raised an eyebrow. "Give it a try?"

The tone was polite, yet urgent, and the stuttering, weak quality was gone. Zhou Yi’s heart stirred. Regardless of whether these were spirit stones or not, they were certainly extraordinary.