Empress Fu Yao [Volume 2] (Completed)✔

Devil's Curse

Turning to see the words on the wall, Meng Fuyao felt her face heating up. Almost burnt, she gritted her teeth, ready to fulfill her desire of chewing someone up.

Before she could do anything, footsteps came through from outside the cave.

The assistant general stopped before the cave entrance. He had already scouted the place, and since there was no way the couple of them could have grown wings and flown away, they had to be inside.

The black wave of soldiers gathered together, jamming up the city wall. Extending kilometers away, the winding troop appeared like a snake under the moonlight, their weapons as shiny as scales.

There was no one anyone could single-handedly fight through this dense formation; just one strike per soldier would be enough for one to die from exhaustion.

"Burn!" The assistant general ordered, his teeth twinkling like those of a beast amid the darkness.

The general had ordered for the arsonist to be chopped into pieces, and he planned to bring a corpse back for him to do as he pleased.

The wood had been piled up, but the cave was as quiet as before. The assistant general let out a cold laugh before heavily striking his arm downward.

As a soldier was about to start the first, the pagoda-shaped firewood pile collapsed. A coarse branch fell from the top and smashed his head.

Faces changed as other soldiers retreated instinctively. There were many customs regarding Rongsmen's troop formations, and one of the important ones included their belief that it was inauspicious to get injured before a war.

The assistant general studied the firewood pile for some time, recalling that nothing had been shot out from the cave. Dismissing it as a coincidence he waved, and a personal guard went forward to light the fire.

Midway, the guard's knees went weak, and he rolled to the ground immediately after. He rolled on and on, and his head rolled off all of a sudden.

The head had rolled out soundlessly before the eyes of thousands of soldiers. There were no blood, no cries, and the head had even preserved the victim's cautious look from before. It no longer looked like a head but a ball that had been kicked away.

Under the moon, deep within the mountains and before the cave, what would it feel like to have a head roll to one's own feet?

At least for the assistant general, he had almost lost it.

"Ah," he let out, automatically lifting his leg to kick it away.

Boom!

Like a sigh being released amid a void, the head exploded with a low explosive sound. The frosty moonlight illuminated bits of flesh, some white, some red, and some already solidified, that splattered everywhere, covering the crowd of soldiers.

What would it feel like to have the flesh of a comrade rain all over one's body? Horrifying and disgusting, probably, much so that the scene would turn into a perpetual nightmare for even the bravest fighters.

The assistant general let out a wretched cry before collapsing. The skin on which the flesh came into contact started smoking up. Bone-deep holes were gradually becoming visible.

"Curse! The devil's curse!"

Yet another body had collapsed before the cave's entrance and in front of a disordered troop. The Rong soldiers were shocked silly by the sudden death they had just witnessed. They raised their weapons without knowing the enemies' location, refusing to escape.

The Rong army rules were strict; as escapees' whole family would be killed, these soldiers stayed rooted to the ground despite being scared out of their wits. Some tried to toss their torch over.