Gong Cheng's mind was in complete disarray.
His eyes were fixed on a martial general below.
More precisely, on the general's martial armor.
There were no two identical leaves in the world, and no two Martial Gall Warriors had the same armor and Martial Gall Tiger Tally. Those two things were unique marks of their owners. The color of the tally, the name engraved on it, the armor's design, and the patterns and fittings on its parts—all of these together formed a mark unlike any other. But what had he just seen?
He had recognized a familiar suit of armor on the warrior below!
That armor had once belonged to an elder of his clan whom he had known!
Every detail matched his memory!
What did that mean?
It meant someone was desecrating the dead and tampering with their souls!
A blaze of fury erupted inside Gong Cheng. His eyes turned bloodshot as he glared at Gongshu Wu, gritting his teeth. "What are you doing?"
Gongshu Wu did not answer.
He took up his weapon and strode forward.
The dozens of warriors surrounding him also turned to look at Gong Cheng. They were not alive. Their joints made a teeth-grating clatter whenever they moved, creaking and clicking. Soil gradually filled their hollow skulls, and their features emerged from nothing, first indistinct, then taking shape—their eyes, ears, mouths, and noses appearing one after another. But before their faces had fully formed, the warriors all made the same move: they raised their hands and brushed their faces.
Martial aura surged, taking the shape of various faceplates.
The faceplates left only their eyes exposed.
But what filled those two empty sockets was not human eyes. It was a pair of flames the same color as each warrior's armor. They watched Gong Cheng in