Chapter 442 — The Heart Is Hell

The rain of corpses fell for the better part of an hour, and how many bodies it shed, no one could reckon—a sight to stop the heart. When the corpse rain ceased at last, Grey Immortal hurried the Deaf Elder back below ground, only to find the dozen or so stone statues standing motionless around the altar, the teleportation light already dead.

They looked toward the palace, and saw a sapphire-blue flood dragon coiled about its roof, head raised high, its long whiskers drifting faintly; Shen Mu stood upon the dragon's head, gazing at the altar in the palm of the god statue. The two of them hastened across the long floating bridge to the palace, climbed to the roof, and the Deaf Elder looked down—and gave a slight start. Below, the stone statues around the altar had not stirred, yet every one of them had lifted its head, and their stone eyes were turned this way.

"Shen'er, what has happened? " the Deaf Elder asked in alarm. "They are looking at me. " Shen Mu said softly, "Have they sensed that it was I who killed their kin?

" The Deaf Elder shook his head. "In their minds, this demon host was meant for sacrifice from the start.

Even had they not died by your hand, these demons would have been offered up in blood. You need not brood on it.

On the contrary—you stopped them from waking this god statue.

That is a great good, and it spares countless common folk of Jingping from death.

" Shen Mu looked straight at him.

"Grandpa Deaf, I have never killed so many people. Perhaps many have died because of me, but to have personally sent so many lives to their end—I am still somewhat shaken. When this demon host was teleported here, some were already dead, some still living, but once they rushed into the Gate of Heaven's Mandate, they died. I counted: more than a hundred thousand. I have never killed so many with my own hands.

. . Just now, within the Gate of Heaven's Mandate, I saw many paper boats drifting out of the darkness, with underworld couriers seated aboard, drawing away the souls of these people. It was I who buried them. . . " The Deaf Elder was silent a moment, at a loss how to comfort him. After a while he said, "In the year I was still crown prince of Tiantu, the kingdom was destroyed. I woke from my seclusion and walked alone through the palace, through the streets—bodies everywhere. Because the resistance had been so fierce, the Wolf-Rong Kingdom that attacked us suffered grievous losses.

To vent their fury, the Wolf-Rong king ordered the city put to the sword. " His eyes went distant, as though he still had not emerged from that shadow. He fell silent again, then went on: "I saw my father the emperor's head and my mother the empress's head hung upon the palace gate. I saw the heads and bodies of the consorts and the old palace women. Soldiers cut my father's head down and carried it on a spear, running about to show it off. I ran into the streets and saw Wolf-Rong soldiers plundering everywhere, hacking off heads at will, raping and looting.

I came to my own crown prince's residence: my wife and children were dead. My daughter had been trampled to death by warhorses. . . " His eyes were wide, and it seemed he still could not walk out of that shadow; deep in his eyes there still seemed to be the sight of the Tiantu capital destroyed—a hell on earth. "I was drunk on painting and calligraphy, drunk on the way of the brush, with no heart for affairs of state—and so I brought ruin on my house and my kingdom. I tore off my own ears. If I would hear nothing of the world's affairs, what use were these ears?

I used the bones of the common people as my brush, the blood running in the streets as my ink, and I turned that place into a hell. Heh heh—the armies of Wolf-Rong were all dragged down into hell. A million soldiers: it was I who buried them.

. . And what of it?

Home and kingdom will not come again; the dead will not live again. So I hid myself away in the Desolate Ruins. " The Deaf Elder raised his head and looked at Shen Mu. He lifted a finger and tapped him on the heart. "Shen'er, harden your heart. Do not be like me, and only steel yourself after your kingdom is broken and your family dead—by then it is too late.

This is war. There is no right and wrong in it. On the battlefield, your heart is hell itself—it is Youdu! " Shen Mu's mind cleared in an instant. He bowed.

"I am taught.

" The Deaf Elder smiled. "Let this sin cling to us. When we are dead, let Tu Bo settle the accounts.

Our task is to send more enemies to meet Tu Bo first!

" Shen Mu laughed aloud.

"Send them to meet Tu Bo!

" Grey Immortal looked at the statues below. "What is wrong with these stone statues? " "I do not know.

They went still all at once. " Shen Mu was puzzled as well. "These statues are very powerful—their bodies turned to stone, hard beyond measure.

Their sacrifice failed this time; most likely they will try something else.

They will not give up so easily. " Suddenly the statues around the altar leapt up one after another and plunged into the abyss below. Shen Mu looked quickly: the statues were burrowing into the earth, and in a moment they were gone without a trace.

"This. . . " The three exchanged glances. Shen Mu looked at the blade lodged in the god statue's brow.

The divine blade shone with a brilliance beyond compare, as though a single stroke had been struck into the statue's forehead, very nearly cleaving it open. The blade's surface was impossibly smooth, without a trace of grain, brighter and more limpid than the brightest mirror in the world. The souls of Granny Zhu, the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping, the Silent Artisan, the Cook, and the others appeared flat as a plane within that mirror, battling the gods of Heaven, unable to see anything outside.

Suddenly grey mist came surging from no one knew where, filling the underground space. The three stood within it, and the mist only thickened, until mountains and rivers came pouring through it and drowned them. Not only them—even the god statue that had risen from the earth, and that gleaming long blade, were swallowed by the mist.

Only chains flickered in and out of sight. After a while the mist stopped moving. Around them now stood mountains of white bone adrift in a sea of fog, towering and immense; the underground space beneath the fog seemed filled with bone as well.

Countless bones crawled upon those peaks—a sight grim and dreadful.

"The Realm of the Living Dead!

" Shen Mu was shaken to the core. He looked deep into the fog sea.

At its farthest depth lay a dock—the only road into the Realm of the Living Dead! The Realm of the Living Dead and Fengdu had come to the depths of the Shenduan Mountains, overlapping this strange underground space!

"Who has Fengdu gold coins?

" Shen Mu asked quickly. Neither Grey Immortal nor the Deaf Elder had ever seen such a sight; both shook their heads. The Flood Dragon God was a deity of Heaven—naturally he could not possess Fengdu coins either.

Just then a battered, broken boat came sailing out of the fog sea. Shen Mu raised a hand and waved.

"Boatman, might you carry us a ways? " The oars creaked and groaned as the boat came on between the fog sea and the mountains of skulls. Shen Mu's blood raced; Grey Immortal and the Deaf Elder, by contrast, looked as though facing a great enemy, watching that broken boat in alarm.

After a moment the boat drew up before the palace, floating in front of the Flood Dragon God's enormous head, looking very small indeed. The boatman wore a straw rain cape and a bamboo hat that hid his face. The Flood Dragon God lowered his head.

Shen Mu was about to leap into the boat when a skeletal hand reached out from beneath the cape, and a voice, cold and sinister, came from under the hat: "Little friend, do you have money? " Shen Mu shook his head. "The treasure boat carries no penniless passengers.

" The boatman said, "My little craft has small capital and thin profit.