The rain doesn't fall from the sky, it's more like thick juice dripping down in the dark night.
Divine Capital The official road outside the city has long since disappeared. The mud is swollen by the rain, like countless greedy mouths, biting the horses' hooves.
Six fast horses trudged through the heavy rain, and the white air sprayed from the horses' noses was dispersed by the rain as soon as it came out.
On the horse that was jolting the most violently, Qian Dagui huddled in his brocade-faced mink fur, his body swaying irregularly with the ups and downs of the horse's back.
The rain dripped down the Golden Hairpin on his bun and into his neck, and the coolness made his thick fat body sway uncontrollably.
"What a fucking disaster..."
Qian Dagui wiped the rain off his face, and his eyes, which were red from the rain, were filled with regret, "I shouldn't have believed in the nonsense about seeking wealth at risk. This is not asking for wealth, this is about leaving this good body in the mud. Boss, the front is as dark as the bottom of a pot, how deep do we have to dig into that ghost place?"
Fang Mo was riding at the front. Black Horse was a bit taller than the others on his crotch. His four hooves stepped steadily and powerfully in the mud. The hat on his head was pressed low, only half of his chin stained with mud was exposed.
"Get rich?"
Fang Mo's voice was mixed with the sound of rain, and there was no hint of warmth, only a coldness as cold as pig iron.
"Yin Mountain Burial Ground, besides the rotten bones, there are lonely ghosts. If you think the dead are easy to make money, you can dig up the ownerless graves all over the mountain later."
Qian Dagui felt his scalp numb when he heard it, and quickly shrank his neck into the collar, muttering, "Forget it, the dead person is the most important. With this kind of money, Yin Energy, my old man said, making this kind of money will damage your moral character, and you will have no son..."
Halfway through his words, he seemed to realize something. He glanced at Fang Mo's back and swallowed the second half of his words.
Li Mingyue rode her horse and followed Fang Mo halfway up the body. The rain wet her Flying Fish Robe, which outlined her tight figure, but it did not make her look embarrassed, but made her look more chilled.
She glanced sideways at the assembled team.
A fat man who only values money but cherishes life as gold, a Demon Monk who cultivates Joyful Zen and is full of peach blossoms but kills people without batting an eyelid, an old janitor who looks like he will die at any moment but is actually unfathomable, and a Mute Blacksmith who only listens to the orders of Fang Mo.
Coupled with this is Fang Mo, a jailer who acts completely without rules and is ruthless.
Together, this group of people does not look like an elite team carrying out a secret mission, but more like a group of desperadoes going to rob the law field.
"Arrived."
The sound of Old Yan is like sandpaper rubbing against rusty iron pieces, harsh and dry.
He tightened the reins, and the old horse beneath him pawed its front hooves uneasily, snoring incessantly, unwilling to take another step forward.
Ahead, the official road came to an abrupt end.
Instead, there was a wild trail that was mostly covered by weeds, winding towards the mountains shrouded in thick ink-like black mist. The rain fell into that area, and even the sound became dull, as if it was swallowed up by the darkness there.
Old Yan pinned the long-extinguished Tobacco Pipe to his waist, squinted his eyes, and his cloudy eyes revealed the gleam of an expert.
"Yin Mountain Burial Ground, Divine Capital Corpse Accumulation Ground. I don't know how many Unclaimed Solitary Souls have been buried in this place for hundreds of years. Today's celestial phenomenon is like black clouds pressing down on the city, threatening to destroy it. Yin Sha Qi is about to condense into water." Old Yan's voice was hoarse, and it sounded especially penetrating in this rainy night.
Ahead, the road ends.
Further inside, there is a path overgrown with grass. On both sides are graves that have collapsed. Broken tombstones lie scattered in the muddy water. Occasionally, a few pale bones can be seen exposed.
"Dismount."
Fang Mo rolled over and landed on the ground, his boots stepping into the mud up to his ankles.
He stretched out his hand and pressed it on the handle of the knife, Lung Gold Divine Treasury buzzed inside his body, and a wave of Sharp Qi came out through his body, cutting into pieces the cold air that was approaching around him.
"From now on, shut up. Follow me."
Fang Mo turned around and warned, taking the lead to step into the dark rain curtain.
The further you go, the less rain falls, but the temperature in the air drops sharply.
A thick fog with a rotten smell filled the forest, and visibility was less than three feet.
It was eerily quiet all around.
There were not even the chirping of insects or birds, only the crisp sound of a few people stepping on dead branches, which was infinitely amplified in this dead space.
"Amitabha."
Jie Se Monk suddenly stopped, the Skull Prayer Beads in his hand was slightly hot. His pair of peach blossom eyes, which were always smiling, were narrowed to a slit at this moment, staring at a dead tree on the left.
"Fang Shizhu, it seems we are not the first batch of customers."
Fang Mo stopped and followed Jie Se's gaze.
There were several dark red cloth strips hanging on the branches of the dead tree.
The strips of cloth fluttered in the wind, and under the tree, there was a pool of blood that had not been completely washed away by the rain.
Blood is black.
It's not the black after drying, but the black that is inherently poisonous and Corpse Qi.
"Blood God Temple's handiwork." Li Mingyue stepped forward and looked at the blood stains, his face suddenly turned cold, "This kind of Corpse Poison can only be found by those bald donkeys who practice evil."
"Blood God Temple?"
Fang Mo raised his eyebrows slightly.
The former Luo Changfeng was the abandoned disciple of Blood God Temple.
Now there are traces of Blood God Temple here again.
It seems that Palace is not the only one staring at his father's grave.
"Interesting." Fang Mo raised a cruel arc at the corner of his mouth, "Is this all a mahjong table?"
"Be careful!"
Old Yan, who had been silent all this time, suddenly shouted loudly.
The Cast Iron Great Hammer in Iron Bull's hand was thrown into the darkness on the right without any warning.
Phew--!
The sledgehammer whipped up strong winds and blew away the dense fog.
Bang!
There was a loud bang of gold and iron.
In the darkness, a dark iron rod held Iron Bull's sledgehammer. Sparks flew everywhere, illuminating a pale, stiff, lifeless face.
That's not a person.
It was a Living Corpse wearing broken armor, his eyes turned white, and his face covered with corpse spots.
"Roar!"
Living Corpse let out an inhuman roar. It was so powerful that it actually withstood Iron Bull's heavy blow.
Immediately afterwards, the surrounding fog surged.
Countless pairs of green eyes lit up in the darkness.
Click, click.
That was the sound of bones rubbing against each other.
Hundreds of corpses that had long since rotted crawled out from the soil, from the grass, and from the collapsed graves. They had no weapons in their hands, only pairs of claws as sharp as knives, coming like a tide with their desire for human flesh and blood.
"Corpse Tide?"
Qian Dagui was so frightened that the fat on his face trembled, and he hurriedly took out the talisman from his arms.
"Oh my god! So many! How much does it cost to buy it all?!"
"Buy shit!"
Fang Mo draws the knife.
Blood Soul is unsheathed, red as if practiced.
"Fight in!"