Chapter Thirty-Five: Secrets in the Dust

The wind finally ceased, and at the very moment it stopped, the object hidden in the sandstorm crashed down before Liu Zong.

He stepped back a few paces, and only then could he see the thing clearly. It was an enormous pig's head, as large as the front of a heavy truck. The entire head was forged in a metallic, punk style, though its surface had been worn almost smooth from rolling in the sand for so long. The internal steam pipes and gears were mostly broken, and the eyes had become a gaping hole.

A pair of tusks protruded from the mouth, each as long as a person. It was clear that these tusks were the key feature, for despite the sandstorm, they bore no trace of damage.

Liu Zong sized up the pig's head, and after confirming there was no cockpit or chamber inside, he leaped onto its crown.

Glancing at An Qiang, who still lingered nearby, Liu Zong took out his tools.

Soul-summoning was a fundamental skill for players of the shadow attribute. Most mainstream shadow professions included undead minions as standard, differing only in the number and strength of these servants.

The class Liu Zong had chosen required strict standards for undead minions. Initially, at Level 1, he could control only three at once, so he studied their selection and control with extra care.

Although a recent quest had altered his class somewhat, his requirements for undead minions had not changed—in fact, they had grown more stringent.

Having jumped atop the pig's head, Liu Zong did not rush to summon souls. Instead, he meticulously examined every detail.

Eventually, he carved a magical array into the top of the head, then placed several items within the circle.

Ordinarily, his skill would have made such elaborate preparations unnecessary, but An Qiang's presence made Liu Zong cautious. He preferred to waste some resources rather than risk failure here.

Thanks to his prudence, the soul-summoning proceeded smoothly. As he chanted the incantation, the items he had set down exploded, and a torrent of shadow energy was forcibly drawn from the earth, surging into the pig's head through the magic array.

At first, Liu Zong intended to use his full power in the ritual, but soon he sensed something amiss: there was no soul within the pig's head—it had never been alive.

This posed a problem. Soul-summoning for shadow players was designed for objects that once possessed souls; even if the soul had departed, one could supplement a new one.

It was like encountering a corpse: even if it had lain dead for years and its soul had vanished, one could still find a suitable soul and reanimate the body.

But this pig's head felt to Liu Zong like a teacup or some other lifeless object—it had never contained a soul. No matter his skill, he could not anchor a summoned soul to it.

Fortunately, his early studies had covered such scenarios. This was a relatively simple issue.

Without hesitation, Liu Zong decided to follow the method taught in school: slowly infuse the pig's head with shadow energy.

As he worked, he kept track of time and progress. He found that about one hour was enough to convert roughly one-fifth of the mechanical pig's head into an undead form.

Of course, he did not believe that five more sessions would complete the transformation. He noticed that whenever he paused the infusion, the undead energy would gradually fade and the mechanism would revert to its original state.

The decay was slow, but by the same time tomorrow, half the energy would likely be lost.

This raised another question: since the pig's head had fallen from the sky, it was understandable to find it here today, but what about tomorrow? Could he locate it precisely?

With this thought, Liu Zong made a subtle adjustment to the soul-summoning, allowing himself to track the pig's head on his map.

His power was limited, and this wasn't his domain, so he dared not overreach. Only when the pig's head was within two kilometers would its movements appear on the map.

When all was done, Liu Zong checked the time—an hour had passed, and it was around four thirty. The sky, free of sand, remained gray, and the western sun hovered uncertainly above the horizon, neither setting nor lingering. If not for the tornado rising nearby, Liu Zong would have doubted any change in time.

He calculated, then hopped down from the pig's head. Glancing at An Qiang, who was still standing nearby, he saw that An Qiang paid him no mind, staring with excitement at the pig's head.

From An Qiang's gaze, Liu Zong could tell this pig's head was an important artifact. But lacking full information, he did not know its purpose.

After another look at An Qiang, Liu Zong surveyed the rising sand, bent low, and headed back toward Golden Pine Valley along the route he had come.

He had no desire to engage with An Qiang, nor any wish to learn about crucial items here. He was not yet at the stage where he could monopolize every secret. Liu Zong was a clever man; he knew those who knew too much often died first.

After Liu Zong left, An Qiang hesitated beneath the pig's head, took something from his pocket, then put it away.

When the sandstorm rose again and the wind swept up the pig's head, An Qiang finally stepped into the storm, heading in the opposite direction from Liu Zong—not toward Golden Pine Valley.

As An Qiang departed, the sandstorm reached its peak. The pig's head, which had been slowly rising, now rolled through the storm as before.

Had Liu Zong remained, he would have noticed that with each roll, more shadow energy was expelled—not dissipating as he had expected, but seeping into the surrounding sand, gradually turning it undead as well.