Chapter 490 — Years of Iron and Blood
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
In the True God Chiliarch's deep sockets the last flames leaped; great stone steles flew silently through the air and sealed the doors of the divine tombs one by one.
Runes flowed across the walls of the tombs, and as the steles closed, the formations guarding those tombs at last became whole.
Shen Mu let out a breath and looked up at the skeleton of the True God Chiliarch beside him. "Senior," he said, "you built divine tombs for them and laid them to rest. Why did you not build a tomb for yourself?"
The towering divine bone sat down, leaning on the banner. The great flag stood unbroken, and he sat bolt upright, facing the tall, desolate graves one after another.
"I was their general. I failed to lead them home. I do not deserve a tomb of my own."
The True God Chiliarch sat there quietly, the banner streaming in the wind. "I will keep watch over them, and be their grave-keeper. I know they never woke. It was you speaking through their mouths."
He lowered his head toward Shen Mu. "Thank you."
Shen Mu was taken aback. "I did not want you to feel that you were the only one left here. So I..."
The True God Chiliarch lifted his head and smiled. "Though it was you, my heart is greatly comforted. I have no regret left."
From his hollow sockets two streams of light, long as dragons, flew out and into Shen Mu's eyes, where they coiled and settled.
Those were the last of the pure yang and pure yin qi in his divine store, bestowed on Shen Mu as a gift.
"Darkness is coming. Go there!" He raised a finger, pointing into the distance.
Shen Mu turned to look. The sun was sinking in the west, about to drop into the desert.
"Senior, what do you mean, darkness is coming?"
Shen Mu asked in astonishment, "Does darkness invade this place at night as well? Senior..."
He fell silent and said no more. The skeleton of the True God Chiliarch beside him had no breath left in it; the last will had gone still, had scattered, leaving only the raised arm pointing into the distance.
Shen Mu rose without a word and called over Chest and the Dragon Qilin, who sat trembling atop Chest. "Let us go there," he said.
Chest moved its legs and followed him in the direction the True God Chiliarch's finger pointed.
The Dragon Qilin plucked up his courage. "Cult Leader, what did that big skeleton mean just now, saying that though it was you, still..."
"My spirit-exchanging art cannot exchange for the souls of those gods and demons who died in battle. The bones I awaken have no consciousness and can only obey my commands. He saw that too, and that is why he said what he did."
The Dragon Qilin was baffled. "But I heard those skeletons talk, and call him General."
"That those skeletons could speak, it was I who spoke through their mouths. I did not want him to feel lonely, to feel that he was the only one left from the age of the Supreme Emperor."
Shen Mu looked back at the divine bone sitting there, leaning on the war banner, keeping watch over the divine tombs, then turned his head away again, his face calm. "But in the end he found out. He did not call me on it at the time. In his heart, I think, there was still a little hope, a wish that it was not I who spoke, but his comrades."
The Dragon Qilin still could not comprehend such feeling, and simply sprawled on Chest to sleep, muttering, "These things frighten me most. Last time at the Liu family's place, I had nightmares for days..."
The sky grew darker and darker, and Shen Mu hurried his steps, until at last the setting sun sank into the desert.
Darkness came surging in from the west like a tide, and in an instant it caught up with them and drowned them.
Shen Mu was startled. This world, too, was devoured by darkness; it was like another Desolate Ruins, except that here it was the reverse: the day of the Desolate Ruins was this place's night, and the night of the Desolate Ruins was this place's day.
Suddenly Shen Mu's heart quivered. "I understand! I understand where the darkness comes from!"