The moment he stepped into the City Lord's Mansion, a chill mingled with deathly aura and blood stench rushed at him.
The restrictions over the western side courtyard glimmered faintly. Dozens of corpses stood stiffly arranged in the yard, their bluish-black skin stretched taut like leather. Even imprisoned by runes, fine strands of black qi still seeped from their bodies, corroding the bluestone slabs beneath them into specks of black.
Qin He slowly approached, his gaze sweeping over the corpses as the golden-black patterns in his eyes shifted almost imperceptibly.
They were all vicious corpses that had been suppressed.
Corpses were inauspicious—an iron law spanning the Eastern Land, the Abyss, and the Upper Realm.
Just as night was bound to fall, so long as a corpse remained, there was the possibility of strange horrors breeding from it.
Near places of ill omen, that possibility rose severalfold.
Thus, corpse-burning grounds and corpse burners had become standard fixtures in every city.
The names might differ. In the Eastern Land, they were called Corpse Burners; in the Abyss, corpse burners; in the Upper Realm, also corpse burners, or perhaps cremation masters, cremation cultivators, and so on.
But this profession of dealing with the dead had never vanished.
There were many cultivators in the Upper Realm, and ordinary mutated corpses were mostly dealt with casually by cultivators.
After all, no matter how vicious a corpse was, it was still fundamentally a dead thing. If one person could not handle it, then two would; if two were not enough, they would swarm it together. They could always smash it apart.
Only one kind was sent here to await Qin He's hand.
Undying Bones!
Qin He crouched down and lightly touched one corpse's arm with his fingertip.
It felt as hard as iron. What came through