This ti it went very smoothly. The instant he saw Hong Lin give her nod, Cheng Shi dived off the Dolphin Bridge and plunged straight down into the Corpse Field.
His previous visit had been a scene of pure shock — all his attention had been captured by the endless cascade of divine bodies, and in that terror, he hadn't truly absorbed what "death" felt like. This ti, perhaps affected by the news of the Gravekeeper's disappearance, sowhere in the descent, Cheng Shi felt for the first ti an actual trace of [Death]'s aura seeping through him.
That genuine sense of mortality settled in his chest and wouldn't leave, making his expression grow uncommonly grave.
Sothing had changed in the Corpse Field of Gods. A dense concentration of [Death]-force perated every corner.
But why would [Death]-force be here? The death in this place had nothing to do with [Death].
Any anomaly was a harbinger of danger. Sensing sothing wrong, Cheng Shi put himself on full alert and halted his descent mid-fall, drifting quietly toward the field's edge.
He wasn't here to take risks. He was here to find sothing.
The most valuable thing inside the Corpse Field of Gods was undoubtedly the divine throne that so unknown person had assembled here. Since Cheng Shi had already pocketed that throne, what had he co back for?
The answer was simple. Being in a corpse field — naturally, he had co for corpses.
Yes. Cheng Shi was here to collect divine bodies. Not to replicate an identical divine throne, but to conduct a mad experint — one he intended to use to verify what he was thinking. And the materials for that experint were right here.
Cheng Shi moved carefully toward the edge of the corpse pit. He wouldn't venture deep inside this ti — just taking a few bodies from the outskirts would be enough to accomplish his purpose.
So he moved with extraordinary caution. He confird three tis that nothing stirred around him, then approached one divine body with extre care — reaching out carefully to touch the broken arm of a scattered remnant. But in the very mont he was about to retrieve it, a terrifying wave of [Death]-aura erupted from the broken arm with no warning and swept over him completely.
Cheng Shi's expression changed drastically. His pupils contracted to points. He snapped his fingers in an instant — but instead of reverting to a past position, his body dissolved into smoke and passed cleanly through the dense [Death]-aura.
In that process, Cheng Shi realized the [Death]-aura was extraordinarily strange. It wasn't lethal. It wasn't anything like an attack. It felt more like... a signal.
When the signal was triggered, a chain reaction began. The divine bodies scattered along the pit's edge began to tremble simultaneously — and then from the depths of the pit's abyss ca a sound like a surging tide, as if so force was pushing a great gust outward. A thundering blast filled the entire Corpse Field.
"Gods... perish..."
Though the terrifying sound-wave lasted only a single breath, it was enough to shatter the composure of any life that had wandered in here, sending them fleeing in panic. And before that wave had even fully dissipated, from the pit's depths ca another roar of surging sound.
Any ordinary intruder who heard this — if they still had legs to run — would be long gone by now.
But Cheng Shi had been here before.
He knew where those sounds ca from. Not so unknown creature — just the sound of air currents funneling through the divine throne, the voice of an inanimate object.
So he was unnerved, but not panicked.
The problem was — hadn't he already taken that throne?
So why was this sound still here?
More strangely still — what explained the trembling of the divine bodies along the pit's edge, and this great tide of surging pressure? He had only barely touched a broken remnant — how had that triggered a reaction this large?
Even beyond that: from the initial [Death]-signal just now to this cascading chain reaction — all of this felt strangely familiar to Cheng Shi. He had the persistent sense that he had experienced sothing like this before, sowhere.
But why?
Cheng Shi's brow furrowed tighter and tighter — the more he thought, the stranger it felt. At that very mont, the second shockwave erupted, blasting through the Corpse Field once more.
"Universe... collapses..."
A noise this deliberate didn't feel like a natural phenonon. It felt more like soone was doing it intentionally.
But this sound contained secrets about the divine throne. Who would be so reckless as to "broadcast" that openly?
And for that matter — a noise this terrifying would have driven everyone away. So who could still be...
"!!!"
Wait.
What if this wasn't a broadcast at all — but a scare tactic?
Was soone using this shockwave to drive intruders away?
It just happened that he had heard this sound before — so he wasn't frightened. Any other intruder, faced with this, would have long since fled.
Cheng Shi went cold with sudden understanding. He realized imdiately that there might very well be another person still inside the Corpse Pit — soone who had arrived earlier than him, and had already set up this "frightening trap" as a deterrent.
Who could that person be?
Another version of himself?
That didn't feel right.
Death. Trigger. Reaction. Trap...
A flash of sudden insight struck Cheng Shi's chaotic mind — and he finally rembered why this all felt so familiar.
Wasn't this the exact sa chanism as Old Zhang's cetery?!
All these reactions inside the Corpse Field bore a startling resemblance to the defensive chanisms of the Gravekeeper's cetery!
The very mont that thought ford, Cheng Shi felt soone approaching from behind. His whole body froze — but he didn't move. A second later, a scalpel emitting a ghostly light pressed cold against the back of his neck.
A voice — impossibly familiar — ca quietly from behind him.
"Fate Weaver. You've beco far too reckless."
At that mont, Cheng Shi's mind went boom.
"Old... Old Zhang?!"
Cheng Shi didn't dare turn around. Even feeling that familiar aura, he didn't dare confirm it — afraid it was a mirage born of shock, a hallucination conjured after hearing terrible news. This was the Real Universe, and the Corpse Field of Gods. Here, anything was possible — so he didn't dare be certain of who this Zhang Jizu was.
Zhang Jizu was equally cautious. Even if the person truly was the Fate Weaver — he had no way of knowing which world's Fate Weaver this was.
So he said nothing in response.
But that single silence confird everything Cheng Shi needed. This was absolutely a Gravekeeper. No matter which world — the identity was right. That was enough.
What was a Gravekeeper doing here instead of keeping his cetery? What had brought him all the way out here?
In that instant, a rush of inexplicable feeling surged straight to Cheng Shi's head. He felt the cold of the blade at his neck. He let out a short, sharp laugh — and without warning, threw his head backward, as if ready to test the hardness of his fragile neck against the tip of that icy scalpel.
And he started swearing as he did.
"Reckless, he says! Keeping graveyards, he does! Burying gods, he does!? What the absolute hell! Is this your graveyard, that you just co here?! And set up your array while you're at it! Who sent you here? What happens to your actual graveyard while you're gone? What — soone else's graveyard looked easier to keep, or did you just lose the way ho?"
Cheng Shi's "suicide charge" had no effect. Zhang Jizu instantly pulled the scalpel back and brought the flat of the handle down on Cheng Shi's shoulder, spinning him around.
Those perennially half-shut eyes t Cheng Shi's gaze — complex with tangled feeling — and nearly closed to a single line. Zhang Jizu took half a step back, his own expression equally complex, and gave a nod.
"Yes. I really did lose the way ho."
"..."
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