Chapter 448 — Night Raid
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
The temple ruins in the desert, the uncanny dune giants, must surely be the work of the True Heaven Palace's gods; and this eerie fire that lay over the whole desert, the flame brand that rose on the bodies of the Forsaken of the Wilderness Ruins the moment they set foot in the sands, burning them to death, was it too bound up with the True Heaven Palace?
Why, when the Forsaken of the Wilderness Ruins set foot here, did the flame brand rise on their flesh? Why were they alone burned to death by the eerie fire, while others could touch it and come to no harm?
How many secrets did the Western Lands hide? The desert flames burned fierce and hot, unbearable to him, when suddenly another set of ruins appeared ahead; before the Dragon Qilin had even drawn near, the wild sand in those ruins howled and gathered, and a dune giant slowly took shape, then another and another, wild sand spinning and leaping about their feet.
The Dragon Qilin was about to skirt around them when Shen Mu shook his head, "No need.
Keep going.
" The Dragon Qilin had no choice but to brace itself and charge at the murderous dune giants, while in Shen Mu's eyes layer upon layer of formation patterns turned as he studied those ruins from afar. The dune giants came charging, nearer and nearer, when suddenly a sword rang out; the Wuyou Sword flew whistling forth, skimming low over the desert and raising whirlwind after whirlwind that lashed up sand and dust. When the dune giants had come within a hundred zhang of the Dragon Qilin they abruptly collapsed, and the rolling sand and dust came surging at them; the Dragon Qilin roared in alarm, and the roar scattered the crumbling dunes.
Shen Mu recalled the Wuyou Sword, and the Dragon Qilin bore him into the ruins, where idols had been hewn every which way across a shrine niche, shattered into fragments. The Dragon Qilin swept on its way.
"By noon tomorrow we should be into the Western Lands.
" Aboard a ruined Dawn Ark, Shen Mu kindled a campfire and let the Dragon Qilin and Xiong Qier rest. He himself could hold out, but the Dragon Qilin had run so far and needed rest, and Xiong Qier was young and could not bear such a long journey. The youth looked west, his gaze passing through the desert covered in eerie fire, and in the firelight a figure surfaced in the distance, warped by the flames.
Shen Mu smiled and waved a hand, and the figure, startled, hurriedly fled.
"The Great Venerable grows ever more timid," Shen Mu said, shaking his head and laughing.
Ban Gongcuo drew away from that ruined Dawn Ark, his face shifting between fair and foul. His severed arm had been reattached and his wounds were all but healed, yet to this day he had never found a chance to ambush Shen Mu.
It was not that he had never thought of striking from hiding, or of meeting Shen Mu head-on, but at the thought that his odds of winning were small he had no choice but to give up the notion. He was just about to leave when he suddenly saw the sand all around flowing in utter silence; his heart stirred, and he hastened to look by the firelight.
The desert in the night was not wholly dark; the firelight lit it, though one could not see far.
Ban Gongcuo saw a strange figure walking in the firelight, like a marionette, its joints twisted, moving in an uncanny posture.
The quicksand of the desert flowed with the puppet's steps, and strange to tell, the flowing sand made no sound at all.
Ban Gongcuo's heart gave a leap; he saw another puppet-like figure, then a third, a fourth. .
.
As they drew nearer he could at last make out that these uncanny shapes were woodcarved idols, and that the idols' eyes were true eyes, not wood, drawing in silence toward the Dawn Ark.
Ban Gongcuo's heart pounded wildly.