Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 720: Wrath of the Lich King

The sacred mountain descended into chaos.

Though Sisi commanded powerful spirit beasts, her enemies had not come unprepared. Her goshawk and the Blood Ao clashed ferociously with the tigers and leopards of their enemies, while soldiers from both sides added to the disorder.

Sisi’s greatest disadvantage lay in her inability to trust others freely. She could not place blind faith in the other elders and tribal chiefs, nor could she fully trust the Xia soldiers under her command, uncertain who might harbor treacherous intentions. Her strategy, therefore, relied heavily on her inner circle of seemingly unreliable servant girls—traitorous in petty matters, frequently mocking their saintess, yet steadfast in true crises. They knew that should anything happen to Sisi, their own fates would be grim—a reality well-documented in countless stories.

But reliable though they were, their strength and experience were limited. Even knowing Sisi’s plans, they fumbled under the weight of the situation, struggling to organize the uninformed loyalists among the tribe.

Under normal circumstances, this rebellion should have been quickly quelled. Sisi had her spirit beasts ready, and the conspirators inside the temple were already neutralized. Most of the tribe still supported her, after all. Yet the sudden shift in momentum, combined with a lack of high-level allies who could take charge, plunged the situation into disarray. For now, the chaos persisted, and no reinforcements were available to aid the temple.

From all directions, assassins of the Snow-Listening Pavilion launched their attacks. Sisi, having ingested her gu, moved like a ghostly wraith through the temple, dodging and weaving. Even so, she felt a twinge of unease.

Why hasn’t Master risen from the coffin to put an end to this yet?

Could he have actually died in there...? No, that can’t be it. He just summoned lightning to kill the thief who tried to steal the axe, so why is he still pretending to be dead? Does he think there are still more fish to catch?

As these thoughts raced through Sisi’s mind, a sudden tremor jolted her senses. The vibrations quickly escalated, and shockwaves rippled through the sacred mountain, resonating with increasing intensity. Stones dislodged and fell, while the temple’s roof tiles fractured and shattered, cascading to the ground in a cacophony of destruction..

A boundless wave of yin qi and death qi engulfed the sky. Though it was still afternoon, the heavens darkened, and snow began to fall in a surreal flurry.

Dodging a falling glazed tile from above, Sisi leaped onto the temple roof, staring toward the distance with shock in her eyes.

What is happening?

She could not see the source, so she urgently summoned her goshawk from afar. Through its eyes, she perceived the unfolding scene and relayed it to her mind.

What she saw chilled her to the core. A tide of death was rising on the horizon, surging toward the sacred mountain.

* * *

When Zhao Changhe finally reached the burial ground where he had once lived in seclusion, the area had changed dramatically.

The simple thatched cottage where he and Sisi had stayed together was still intact, tended by a few servants who kept it clean. But the surroundings were now fortified with heavily armed guards. Over 3,000 elite troops were stationed there, many of them seasoned warriors. Zhao Changhe could also sense the overwhelming presence of spirit beasts, some at least possessing power worthy of the Ranking of Earth.

It was evident that the Spirit Tribe had grown significantly stronger since they had rediscovered their Spirit-Controlling Techniques, which had been lost after Xue Wu’s disappearance. This strength posed a serious threat. Unlike human warriors, spirit beasts did not require years of training. Once matured, they were natural monsters of immense power.

Thankfully, the Spirit Tribe’s current array of beasts seemed relatively ordinary. Back when he and Yue Hongling investigated spirit beasts, they had not encountered anything truly exceptional. Their primary asset was likely the Blood Ao eggs, a foundational legacy of the tribe and their strongest advantage. Without those, their beasts would not pose an insurmountable threat.

But if the Spirit Tribe were to stumble upon creatures of legendary caliber—dragons and phoenixes, for instance—they might truly have the means to dominate the world.

Under the vigilant guard of elite soldiers and spirit beasts, the ancestral burial ground was no easy target. The guards were deeply loyal to the sanctity of their ancestors and entirely indifferent to the political chaos and rebellion elsewhere. No amount of persuasion or bribery could convince them to slacken their guard or compromise their duties.

To openly breach the burial grounds, desecrate the tomb, or rob the graves would require a full-scale massacre—every single guard would need to be wiped out. But such a feat was nearly impossible. Even a god or demon descending from the heavens would struggle to instantly eliminate this force of seasoned warriors. And if their actions drew Sisi’s main forces here—especially with the Thief Saint wielding the Divine Axe—it would spell the end for any invaders.

The fact that the Thief Saint had come to this very place, axe in hand, seemed almost like divine providence.

Faced with such odds, the enemy’s only option was to work covertly, infiltrating the vast burial ground under the cover of shadows. However, this clandestine approach slowed their progress. They could not openly dig or desecrate the tombs; instead, they had to carefully channel their energy into the area. Most likely, they were constantly shifting locations to avoid patrols, spreading their energy across multiple points. This slow infusion of energy from all directions affected the ancient corpses, causing a gathering of yin, leading to a drop in temperature and snow forming in the sky.

Had the process gone uninterrupted, it might have culminated in a perfectly timed catastrophe. At the critical moment, a tide of ancient Spirit Tribe corpses would have burst forth from the tombs in a macabre resurrection, unleashing a wave of death that could annihilate the Spirit Tribe without question.

But the Thief Saint and the divine axe disrupted the plan. The lightning storms triggered by the axe caused snowfall, which alerted the Thief Saint to the strange occurrences. Even so, the enemy might have had days before a proper investigation pieced everything together. That might have been enough time to finish their preparations.

Unfortunately for them, their real misfortune was attracting the attention of Zhao Changhe.

Now, with the sacred mountain in chaos—rebels, assassins, and the Black Hmong King rising from his tomb in Dali—it was the ideal moment for them to act on their plan.

Through her goshawk’s eyes, Sisi watched the burial ground tremble violently. Countless skeletal hands burst from the earth, and then the soil cracked open, coffins shattered, and bricks crumbled. Ancient skeletons of the Spirit Tribe emerged one after another, howling at the sky.

The sky turned completely dark, and snow swirled in a storm of deathly cold. The eye sockets of the skeletons glowed with ghostly flames, and their mouths emitted eerie, guttural roars. The mountain was filled with a swirling maelstrom of yin qi, death qi, and vicious qi, the cacophony resembling the mournful howls of a furious storm.

Zhao Changhe, though deeply alarmed, could not help but recall the cinematic opening of Wrath of the Lich King[1]. He thus could not help but wonder, Where’s the Lich King?

Activating his Overlooking Eye, Zhao Changhe scanned the area, searching for the demon god orchestrating this nightmare. Meanwhile, the sacred mountain’s guards stood frozen in place, their jaws nearly hitting the ground as they stared at the skeletal army before them.

Skeletons filled the mountain, an endless sea of death advancing step by step toward them. Though the guards could tell these creatures did not seem particularly powerful, the sheer sight of them made fighting seem pointless.

What’s the point? Let’s just kneel and worship the Ancestors!

But then came a sobering realization: These aren’t our ancestors.

No one had ever said their ancestors were skeletons or dried corpses. And the way these creatures were looking at them—with violent, murderous intent—made it clear they were not here for a family reunion.

Kneeling was not an option, and fighting was out of the question. As their legs turned to jelly, the guards collectively made the only decision they could.

They turned and ran.

This was the epitome of Lord Ye’s Love of Dragons[2]—the Spirit Tribe claimed to revere their ancestors, yet now they quaked in terror before them.

Fortunately, there was one being that was not fazed by the skeletal army: their sacred beast, the Blood Ao.

Roar!

The Blood Ao stood firm at the foot of the mountain, its massive frame crushing a swath of skeletons with a single stomp. Dozens of them were reduced to fragments beneath its feet.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

An elder, who had been on the verge of fleeing, stopped in his tracks at the sight. His initial fear began to ebb. As a cultivator who had unlocked the Profound Mysteries, he forced himself to think more clearly. The Blood Ao was raised by the Spirit Tribe—it was inherently loyal to them.

“So, the ancestors wish to kill us, yet the sacred beast defends us?”

His voice grew louder, steadier. “Never has such nonsense been recorded. If we were guilty of some crime, the ancestral god would issue decrees of judgment, not summon the dead to crawl out of their tombs! This is no divine act. It must be the result of corpse puppet techniques, disturbing our ancestors’ rest!”

Before he could rally more support, a surge of yin qi shot toward his spiritual platform. The elder reacted instantly, summoning a powerful gu for defense, but the gu died instantly.

Someone was targeting him, trying to suppress his efforts to organize resistance. But the attack was feeble. Was that all the enemy had?

The elder turned in astonishment, only to see a blood-red saber light rising from the mountainside like a crimson rainbow. It tore through the sky with unmatched ferocity, its violent, bloodthirsty aura seeming to suppress the endless yin qi that pervaded the mountain.

Scattering the Gods and Buddhas, Zhao Changhe!

His sudden assault forced the enemy to halt their sneak attack and defend themselves, inadvertently saving the elder’s life.

Clang!

A figure cloaked in black was knocked out of concealment, unable to evade the force of Zhao Changhe’s strike. They raised a white banner horizontally to block the raging blade, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow.

“Finally found you, you piece of shit!” Zhao Changhe roared, his sword pressing against the white banner, his eyes burning with fury. “Were you planning to exploit the chaos to continue excavating, searching for the remains of the Spirit Tribe’s ancient powerhouses? Good luck with that now!”

Far away, on the sacred mountain, Sisi stared at Zhao Changhe’s familiar figure through her goshawk’s vision. Her lips unconsciously curled into a smile—a radiant, breathtaking expression that stood in stark contrast to the bloodshed and chaos of the sacred temple.

Thud!

With cold precision, Sisi drove a dagger into the throat of a Snow-Listening Pavilion assassin who had crept up behind her. She did not even spare the dying man a glance before eagerly turning to address her beleaguered attendants.

“Who told you that my yearning was meaningless?”

“...” The attendants, overwhelmed by the chaos, were stunned speechless. If they lived in the modern world, they might have awarded her a sweating emoji.

Unbeknownst to Sisi, the blind woman was doing just that. She could not resist drawing the first emoji in two eras on the Rankings of Troubled Times.

But even the blind woman’s humor was tinged with solemnity. She knew all too well that Zhao Changhe’s opponent was no mere amateur. This battle would not end easily.

1. This is a reference to the World of Warcraft expansion. ☜

2. This is a reference to Lord Ye’s Love for Dragons or Ye Gong’s Love of Dragons (叶公好龙), which is also an idiom that is used to describe someone who claims to love or admire something, but in reality, does not truly appreciate it or might even fear it. ☜