Reversing Fire into Yin

"wrong!"

Zhang Shilang practically roared it out.

Wu Huaiyi's hand holding the pen trembled, and a drop of ink fell onto the page, obscuring Du Heng's name.

Inside the Xuan Yin Jade, those tiny footsteps were still echoing, densely packed, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, as they burrowed out through the jade holes.

An old Taoist priest from the Imperial Observatory listened attentively several more times, and the skin on his face twitched.

"There are too many footsteps! There are definitely more than twelve people!"

"Stop!"

Vice Minister Zhang ordered: "Everyone stop where you are and immediately check your surroundings, your feet, and your backs."

There was no reply from Xuan Yinyu; only the sound of footsteps continued to echo.

"Du Heng".

Zhang Shilang called out again, but there was no response.

He looked at the adjutant: "Has the rope come loose?"

The lieutenant immediately reached for the twelve ropes attached to the wooden stake, and his expression softened slightly upon touching them:

"Still on edge."

"Are they still going in?"

"It should be, but we don't know why they aren't responding to us."

The comrade will begin to try to pull on the rope.

An official from the Imperial Observatory walked back and forth with a compass, the needle swinging and circling in the center of the compass. He muttered a curse: "The yin and yang are unstable, the earth's energy is disordered."

Just then, a horn sounded from the Xuanyin Jade.

"Woo—" The sound was low and drawn out.

After the horn fell, another voice came from the fog.

It wasn't Du Heng, it wasn't Lu Qingyan, and it wasn't any of the ten vanguards.

The voice was completely flat, as if it were a monotone repetition.

"Soldiers, listen to my command, report for duty."

Wu Huaiyi's scalp tingled.

Finally, Du Heng's voice rang out from the other end of the jade pendant: "Who? Who's there!"

Lu Qingyan also shouted, "Back off! Back off!"

Then came a commotion: someone drew a knife, someone chanted talismans, someone crashed into some wooden frame, and finally, a short scream.

"Pull the rope!"

Without waiting for further reports from inside, Vice Minister Zhang issued the order directly.

The lieutenant general and two bodyguards rushed to the wooden stake, grabbed the rope, and pulled it out.

The first touch was very light, so light that it didn't feel like pulling anyone at all.

The adjutant paused for a moment, then gritted his teeth and pulled again. The thick hemp rope emerged inch by inch from the fog. The rope was terribly wet with the gray fog, but there was no blood on it, nor any cuts from the knife.

Twelve ropes, all empty!

The knots at the ends of each rope were still there, but there was nothing inside, as if the person tied up had vanished into thin air.

One of the guards, his face pale, asked, "Where are they?"

No one answered.

The Xuan Yin Jade was not broken yet, and there was a "rustling" sound of wind coming from the jade hole. The sound of wind swirled around people's ears, sometimes light and sometimes heavy.

Zhang Shilang reached out and took a rope, pressing his thumb inside the knot.

There was still a little body temperature there; the person had just died.

The old Taoist priest of the Imperial Observatory looked grim: "It's been at most a hundred breaths since we entered the fog."

A clerk from the Xun Jin Division murmured, "Was he killed by the camp ghosts?"

"no."

Vice Minister Zhang threw the rope back to the ground. "Even if we exaggerate and say there are a thousand camp ghosts in the fog, it shouldn't be enough to prevent two people at the Observation Realm from even calling for help."

As soon as those words were spoken, the last glimmer of hope in everyone's hearts vanished.

Previously, some people had doubts in their hearts, thinking that with such high cultivation, the Vice Minister could have simply gone in and fought his way in and out seven times. Now, those doubts have turned into admiration, admiring the Vice Minister's caution.

Zhang, unaware of his subordinates' thoughts, turned around and began to give orders: "Full alert. Reassemble the clues. It seems there are more than just ordinary camp ghosts inside."

The adjutant immediately roared, the bows were cocked, the talisman arrows were nocked, and the arrowheads were all aimed at the fog.

The old Taoist priest stretched the cinnabar thread taut, drawing a red line between the mist and the crowd. Another person splashed a bowl of black dog blood onto it, and the cinnabar thread immediately emitted billowing smoke.

The people searching for the Ashes also gathered together to discuss countermeasures.

Wu Huaiyi opened the booklet and wrote down every word he had just heard. When he wrote the words "Listen to orders, roll call," his pen paused.

His previous guess resurfaced in his mind—the realm of evil.

Before setting off, he thought it was just wishful thinking, that the evil realm shouldn't be here, or that he shouldn't have encountered such bad luck.

But the reality is frustrating; fate loves to play tricks on people, and whatever you don't want to happen always happens.

When one answer is crossed out, the probability of another answer increases dramatically.

Wu Huaiyi glanced at his colleagues' anxious expressions, then at the solemn-faced Vice Minister.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally closed the booklet and took a few steps forward.

He walked up behind Vice Minister Zhang, cupped his hands, and said, "My lord."

"Speak," said Vice Minister Zhang without turning around.

Wu Huaiyi clenched his fists inside his sleeves and said in as gentle a tone as possible, "You mean... this place might not be the camp of ghosts?"

People around stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to this.

"You guys think..." Wu Huaiyi gritted his teeth, "Could it be the Demon Realm?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Vice Minister Zhang turned around abruptly!

His eyes were already sharp, and when he looked down at Wu Huaiyi, sweat immediately broke out on his back.

The adjutant general didn't understand: "What is the 'evil realm'?"

At this critical juncture, nobody paid any attention to him.

The old Taoist priest stopped fiddling with the compass, his face even worse than before: "Lord Wu, you must take responsibility for your words."

Wu Huaiyi opened his mouth, about to reply.

The fog moved.

It didn't slowly roll outwards, nor was it blown away by the wind.

The entire gray fog suddenly shrank back, and then the four fog walls shook up in unison, and all the bells on the vermilion lines rang.

"retreat!"

Zhang Shilang stepped to the front, his crimson robe billowing with energy, and he pressed his palm forward.

The aura of the City Destroyer spread out, forcefully holding back the fog pressing in from the front for a moment.

But the fog doesn't just come from the front.

It came from all directions: left, right, behind, and in the air.

One by one, the braziers went out, and black smoke curled up and disappeared along the ground.

The yin-suppressing plate cracked first, followed by eight copper nails bouncing up from the ground. The cinnabar thread broke into more than a dozen pieces, and the bell fell to the ground, its sound muffled into the mist, leaving only a hoarse echo.

Some shouted to run, some chanted incantations, and some drew their swords and slashed wildly, the blades cutting into the fog without even an echo.

Wu Huaiyi was bumped, and the booklet almost slipped from his grasp. He instinctively pulled the booklet into his arms and reached for the short knife at his waist with his other hand.

Before the knife was even drawn, everything went black.

The last sound I heard was Zhang Shilang's roar, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"Don't panic!!!"

When Wu Huaiyi opened his eyes again, he was already in front of a camp tent.

The ground beneath my feet was hard soil, and there were clumps of dried horse manure around my boots. A piece of broken armor hung on a nearby wooden stake; there was no blood on the armor plates, only a thick layer of ash.

There was also a brazier not far away.

The flames in the basin burned brightly, casting a dark red glow on the curtains.

The fire burns upside down.

The flames drooped down from the edge of the basin, plunging into the charcoal ash piece by piece. Instead of rising, the ash burrowed into the fire.

Someone staggered to their feet beside Wu Huaiyi; it was the old Taoist priest.

When the old Taoist priest saw the brazier, his face turned deathly pale, and his voice cracked.

"To turn fire into darkness is an extremely ominous sign!"