The Blade-Wielding Legend

The dense fog swallowed up the Liaodong Camp like a living creature.

The excitement that had just ignited from the dispersal of the "Yin Yang Inversion Array" was now completely frozen by this ominous mist.

Even more unsettling was the constant news of soldiers disappearing.

"The statue!"

Li Yan and Wang Daoxuan almost simultaneously muttered under their breath.

Exchanging a glance, they needed no words and dashed toward the tent where the mysterious nameless statue was stored.

Sha Lifei, Kuai Dayou, Wu Ba, Long Yan’er, and Kong Shangzhao followed closely behind.

The ground beneath their feet was slippery and cold, and the only sounds in their ears were their own heavy breaths and the distant, muffled cries and clashing of weapons.

It was the troops in the camp instinctively forming arrays to protect themselves in chaos.

Reaching outside the tent, the sight was disheartening.

Several Mystical Sect Cultivators were sitting cross-legged on the ground, their faces as pale as paper, their hands forming seals, and chanting continuously to maintain their efforts.

Inside the tent, the half-human tall nameless statue stood silently.

The vermillion talismans covering its surface had peeled off in large patches and were charred black, as if scorched by invisible flames.

Visible wisps of gray-black Yin Sha Qi were continuously being drawn from beneath the statue’s base and merged into the thick fog.

The statue itself seemed to have become a fountainhead connecting to the Earth Vein Yin Sha.

"The seal has been broken! Right when the fog was the thickest just now!"

A Taoist with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth shouted hoarsely, his voice filled with anger and fatigue, "Something inside colluded with the outside, tainting the talisman!"

Wang Daoxuan’s face turned ashen as the Turtle Shell Compass in his hand spun violently, pointing in all directions.

Clearly, the energy flow in this place had been completely disrupted.

The statue, indeed, became the poisonous fang of the "Grinding Plate" Great Array driven into the camp!

In the end, the statue was resealed.

But it was merely an initiator and a beacon, and the celestial phenomena of the entire area had already changed.

At this moment, a steady, powerful, and penetrating command echoed layer upon layer through the thick fog like rolling thunder:

"General Gao orders—form circular formations on the spot! Sword and Shield Soldiers on the outside, long spears in the center, Crossbowmen on alert above!"

"Centurions, Captains, count the numbers, and pass the command with the whistle as a signal!"

"Those who act rashly shall be executed! Those who disrupt the formation shall be executed!"

It was the voice of General Gao Zhenxiong.

Immediately afterward, countless voices relayed this order in succession:

"General Gao orders—form formations on the spot! Count the numbers! Pass the command!"

"Form formations on the spot! Count the numbers!"

The voices struggled to convey through the deathly still, thick fog, though chaotic, yet curbing the spread of panic.

The chaos and noise of the camp were gradually replaced by the repeated military orders.

The ancient camp’s methods of transmitting commands and its harsh military discipline became the last support holding the army together when the Mystical Sect’s array failed.

However, the reports of disappearances still arrived before Li Yan and the others like cold snowflakes.

Strange gaps appeared at the edges of several camps.

Many soldiers vanished without a sound, leaving only scattered weapons and armor behind, as if dissolved by the mist.

Searching within the thick fog proved exceptionally challenging.

Wang Daoxuan’s compass was erratic, and Li Yan relied on sensing the Yin Sha and his own keen senses to find several spots of trampled snow, and faint traces left by forced dragging.

Ultimately, they found the missing individuals near the camp’s palisade border, in a wind-sheltered hollow covered by half-human-high snow.

The scene under the pale fog made their scalps tingle and stomachs churn.

Not corpses.

Just over a dozen intact human skins.

They lay limp on the snow like discarded sacks, maintaining seated or lounging postures, even vaguely recognizable by the outlines of their original clothing.

The skin clung to the cold ground, with only black holes where the facial features should have been, staring emptily at the gray-yellow sky.

The flesh, blood, and bones inside had vanished without a trace, as if something had sucked them dry from within.

"Ugh..." A soldier accompanying them couldn’t help but bend over and retch.

"There’s a survivor!" Kuai Dayou, sharp-eyed, pointed behind a large rock at the edge of the hollow.

A young soldier was curled up there, trembling like a sieve, his pants soaked, his face whiter than a corpse, teeth chattering, his gaze unfocused.

"Don’t be afraid! We were sent by General Gao!"

Kong Shangzhao stepped forward, his voice deliberately steady and strong.

Wang Daoxuan also squatted down and performed a mantra, casting a Calming Spell.

The soldier finally came to his senses, clinging to them like a lifeline, incoherently crying out, "Ghost... a ghost!"

"Captain... Captain Wang called for me... said it was my turn to patrol the border... I... my stomach hurt terribly, I really couldn’t hold it, so I... I hid behind this rock to relieve myself... just squatted down... then... then I heard a strange sound from over there!"

"What kind of sound?"

"Very short, a popping... like something being punctured... and then a... a tearing sound... I... I was so scared I didn’t dare move... only dared to look when there was no sound... just... just like this!"

"Captain Wang... Captain Wang, he..." He pointed fearfully at one of the human skins on the ground, which was indeed his squad’s captain.

"You said Captain Wang called you to patrol the border? Did you see him with your own eyes?" Li Yan pressed on, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"The fog... the fog was too thick... couldn’t see the face clearly, but the voice... the voice was Captain Wang’s! And the way he walked..." The soldier nodded vigorously, tears and snot streaming.

Kong Shangzhao squatted down, carefully examining the edge of the nearest human skin.

The opening was extremely bizarre, not cut by a sharp tool, but more as if it were burst and torn from the inside.

His brow furrowed, he pondered for a moment, his voice carrying a tinge of gravity: "When interrogating those Rakshasa prisoners in Kuerka, I heard them mention some Evil Spirits legends from the old forests. One of which is called the ’Skin Peeler.’ Their specialty is mimicking the voices and forms of familiar people, luring targets to be alone."

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