Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Four Great Wraith Generals and the Jade Coffin in Moonlake

Sliding swiftly down the cable, Han Chong followed the five Bronze Guards at a brisk pace toward a tunnel deep within the mountains. Their journey took them over a hundred miles before they finally arrived in a resplendent and magnificent underground palace.

Within the palace, more than ten Bronze Guards stood silently, hands at their sides, while at the center of the hall sat four figures around a round table made of black ebony.

One was a man clad in black robes, his features obscured, with sleeves embroidered with black lotus flowers—strikingly similar to the white robes worn by Duan Wenxuan of the Peijun Prefecture. Another wore black and red official attire, holding a white-tipped vermilion brush, his face as dark as lacquer. The third was shrouded entirely in black mist, obscuring even the outline of their form—whether human, demon, or ghost, it was impossible to tell. The last was a woman dressed in a robe of gold-threaded silver moon brocade, her head adorned with a silver mask identical to those of the Bronze Guards.

The Bronze Guards lined up in two rows on either side, bowing toward the masked woman at the center. “Greetings, my lord.”

Han Chong was startled and puzzled. This masked woman was addressed as “lord,” and the silver moon motif on her robe surely marked her as a member of the Lunar Dynasty. The other three matched the descriptions of the formidable trio who had confronted the Copper-armored General—each was the equal of a late-stage Qi-Condensing cultivator!

The woman in the silver mask gave a faint nod, then cast her gaze back to the three formidable guests. “Commanders, eight of the nine counties of Yun Province have fallen into our hands. What is happening with Peijun Prefecture? There has been no news at all.”

A sinister chuckle drifted from the man in black. “Ah, dear Yue, you ask us, yet we should be asking you. All our subordinates are under the command of your Bronze Guards. My man Duan Wenxuan was establishing the Black Lotus Sect in Peijun Prefecture when he vanished without a trace. You mean you know nothing of this?”

“Indeed, dear Yue,” the judge-like man added with a light laugh. “The One-horned Ghost King, one of my own, has also disappeared without a word.”

“I do have some information,” said the figure shrouded in black fog, their voice shifting between male and female tones.

“Oh? You have news, Mother Xiao? Pray tell,” the judge pressed, raising his brows.

“Recently, a lesser demon under my command came to report from Jidang Mountain. He claimed he encountered a young human swordsman who, alone and unaided, slew most of the monsters of Tiger Fang Mountain. Even Black Tiger himself was struck down.”

“A human youth, alone with a sword? What was his cultivation?” the man in black asked in surprise.

“According to my subordinate, the human was initially no match for Black Tiger, but then his power surged unexpectedly. After killing Black Tiger, the rest of the monsters fled in terror. None could withstand a single blow.”

“How strange,” someone murmured.

“Enough,” the silver-masked woman said coolly. “Let us set aside the matter of Peijun Prefecture for now—it is no great loss. We may proceed with the next phase of our plan.”

Han Chong could see that among these four, it was the masked woman who truly held the reins; the others were merely her lieutenants, and not entirely invested in the proceedings.

“What? The Mad Plague Rats and the Bloodthirsty Black Mosquitoes are nearly mature?” Mother Xiao cried softly.

“Yes,” the masked woman replied with a trace of madness in her voice. “Though ten days remain, we can begin preparations ahead of schedule.”

“Excellent! Once Yun Province’s capital falls, we shall depend on your guidance, dear Yue,” the man in black said with a mocking bow, echoed by the others.

“Well said. With the help of Lord Evil Spirit, I shall raise the Black Turban Army and conquer several southern provinces. When that day comes, I will need your full support,” the masked woman replied with a charming smile, returning their salute.

“Ha! Then allow us to take our leave,” the black-faced judge said, rising first. His form faded into nothingness and melted into the ground. Mother Xiao transformed into a swirl of black mist and drifted away. The man in black turned into a crystalline black lotus and floated up, vanishing through the palace roof.

Only the masked woman and the two rows of Bronze Guards remained in the underground palace.

“One, two, three, four, five—you are to accelerate the breeding of Bloodthirsty Black Mosquitoes. We must have more mature specimens as soon as possible. The rest of you, return to your respective counties. Coordinate with the subordinates of the three Wraith Commanders and assemble the Black Turban Army. Remain on standby.”

“Yes, my lord,” the Bronze Guards answered in unison. Han Chong bowed and turned to leave with them.

After they had gone ten miles, Han Chong paused. “I just remembered something I forgot to report to the lord. You all go ahead.” The others hesitated, but said nothing and continued on.

Han Chong concealed himself and slipped back into the underground palace. The masked woman was nowhere to be seen. He searched quietly, eventually finding a secret passage leading upward. Using an earth-burrowing technique, he emerged through a hidden doorway.

Night had fallen. He found himself in a vast and splendid mansion, ten times grander than the Marquis of Lingzhen’s estate, yet eerily silent and deserted. Where had the masked woman gone? Han Chong searched the entire compound, but found only a few elderly servants cleaning.

Just as he was puzzling over this, he sensed a faint, ethereal fluctuation from the direction of the rear garden. There, a crescent-shaped lake lay surrounded by exquisite pavilions and towers. At its heart, a silver crescent moon was reflected in the rippling waters.

The strange aura emanated from within the crescent moon’s reflection. Approaching the shore, Han Chong felt a faint, cold lunar radiance drifting from both the lake’s moon and the one above.

This moonlight was unnatural. Han Chong invoked a water-breathing spell and dove into the lake. At its deepest point—nearly thirty feet down—a white jade coffin rested on the lakebed, its surface shimmering with lunar power.

Through the translucent coffin lid, he saw the silver-masked woman lying motionless within.

A chill ran down Han Chong’s spine. Was she a corpse? Yet moments before, in the underground palace, he had sensed no trace of death upon her. How bizarre.

A surge of battle-lust rose in Han Chong’s heart—a desire to slay this woman. But as he drew within thirty feet of the coffin, two beams of silver light shot out from within, sweeping in his direction.

What terrifying perception! He could not tell whether it was due to her cultivation or the disturbance in the water, but even when cloaked by his stealth and water spells, she had detected his approach instantly.

He froze. Gradually, the silver light faded from her eyes, and she closed them again.

Han Chong knew that, with his current strength, he could easily defeat monsters like the Black Tiger Demon King. But these adversaries—each the match of a late-stage Qi-Condensing cultivator—were far beyond him. Even if he prevailed in battle, killing them would be almost impossible, and would only alert the enemy or trigger their schemes prematurely.

The Mad Plague Rats and Bloodthirsty Black Mosquitoes mentioned in the council were lethal weapons certain to plunge Yun Province into chaos. If that happened, he would be beset on all sides, with no way to strike back.

With this thought, Han Chong slipped quietly away.

At the mansion gates, he turned and looked up at the signboard hanging from the eaves: “Prince Ying’s Manor,” it read.

Just who was this masked woman? Could she be Princess Yingzhuang, the last surviving daughter of Prince Ying?

Was she not said to have died of a mysterious illness? Why, then, was she cultivating in a jade coffin at the bottom of a lake?