Chapter Fifty-Two: The Main Burial Chamber

The two iron crutches were raised a second time, crossing to form a spinning crucifix that swung fiercely toward Zhang He. The attack, both swift and forceful, was shockingly aggressive—hardly what one would expect from a player skilled in the arcane arts. Yet Zhang He remained motionless, letting the crucifix come at him without the slightest flinch.

Just as the crucifix was about to strike his face, both ends of the iron crutches released a thick cloud of blue-brown smoke. Only then did Zhang He retreat lightly, avoiding the poisonous haze.

Meanwhile, Mengzi had somehow darted forward, seizing the opportunity to attack Zhang He from both sides with his iron crutches. This move was clearly a precaution against Zhang He's coin darts—a feint to close the distance and engage him in close combat. Yet Mengzi underestimated Zhang He; Zhang He had long since studied the tactics of such arcane players.

Those versed in the arcane arts act only when they are twelve-fold certain of success. Mengzi's sudden, forceful throw of his weapon was a desperate, all-or-nothing strike, nothing like the usual style of an arcane player. Zhang He therefore predicted it was merely a feint. His judgment was risky, but few dared gamble as boldly as he did.

Mengzi gained nothing from the close quarters, quickly realizing his opponent's swordsmanship far exceeded his expectations. The iron crutch, heavy and unwieldy, was impressive in its display but clumsy compared to the agile, ever-changing, and gentle Azure Frost Sword. To those watching—like Mad Feast upon the World and his companions—Zhang He's sword moved like a serpent among the two crutches, no matter how fiercely Mengzi swung; he simply could not touch Zhang He.

In truth, Mengzi was struggling far more than the spectators realized. His iron crutch was not weak, but whenever Zhang He had no choice but to parry with his sword, the clash sent a strange vibration through the Azure Frost Sword, making the iron crutch tremble slightly. Mengzi understood then that his opponent's internal strength far surpassed his own; the longer the duel persisted, the more certain his defeat.

As expected, after a dozen exchanges, Zhang He struck Mengzi's chest with a resounding palm. Though the blow caused little harm, Mad Feast upon the World's expression darkened completely.

Everyone knew that in "Dynasty," a player's chest was the most heavily defended spot, regardless of profession. Mengzi, already a first-tier player, had been struck directly in the chest amidst the chaos—if the fight dragged on, his fall was only a matter of time.

Time was of the essence; Mad Feast upon the World could not allow the delay to continue.

With a wave of his hand, several cold gleams swept across the tomb's ceiling, aiming straight for Zhang He's throat. Zhang He summoned his internal energy, raised his sword, and deflected the three Wind-Chasing Nails, but already five members of the Phantom Palace had surged forward, each wielding claws, hooks, staves—uncommon weapons all.

At this moment, the two coffins on the ground began to move. Black, humanoid poison mist slowly advanced, as if the five attackers were charging headlong into it.

Arcane players are skilled in such matters; recognizing the trap, all five halted instantly, almost reflexively.

Suddenly, the coffin lids flipped open, striking at the five attackers, who raised their weapons to block. Amidst the clamor, two stone slabs were held at bay, then shattered under the combined resistance, but it was already too late. Above the tomb appeared a dense shower of sword shadows—Hua Feihong and Ma Junmei, hidden in the coffins, had unleashed the "Ten Thousand Sword Technique." Countless sword shadows swept through the tomb like a meteor shower from beyond the heavens, piercing the Phantom Palace members.

The martial arts of Shu Mountain are renowned for a reason—each sword from Hua Feihong could strip away a hundred points of vitality from those lower-class players. Ma Junmei's sword technique was somewhat weaker, but still took seventy points. The intersecting sword rain turned the five attackers into sieves, their bodies limp and bloodied on the ground; many in the rear were wounded as well.

Mad Feast upon the World was visibly startled; he had never expected to encounter prominent Shu Mountain players in such an accursed place.

"The noble Shu Mountain Sword Sect, here to rob the Iron Duke's tomb—how unexpected," he sneered coldly.

But his taunt was pointless. Even if the Shu Mountain swordsmen killed these tomb robbers, it would not affect their chivalry points or sect reputation; the system automatically regarded anyone entering the tomb as a thief. Had this been in the wild, Hua Feihong and Ma Junmei would have hesitated to act.

After two rounds of the "Ten Thousand Sword Technique," the Phantom Palace crowd surged forward, knowing that martial skills have a brief cooldown. Yet as twenty or so rushed ahead, a thin black line rose from the ground, stretching into a net shimmering with blue lights. Like a fisherman’s cast, it instantly trapped all of them, tightening and drawing them upwards.

This was clearly Second Sister's handiwork—her most formidable move, first used during the Blood Parrot theft at Tang Fortress, even catching a fifth-tier Tang Sect elder, let alone these ordinary arcane players. The net’s expanded size showed that Second Sister's strength had grown considerably.

It was Zhang He's clever idea: Second Sister alone could hardly lure the Phantom Palace into a trap. Zhang He’s feigned duel with Mengzi, followed by Hua Feihong and Ma Junmei's appearance, was all to lower Mad Feast upon the World's vigilance, making him believe only battle-hardened righteous players were present and ignore the traps on the ground and in the coffins. Otherwise, a thorough search would have uncovered all the mechanisms sooner or later.

Now, over twenty were ensnared. Hua Feihong and Ma Junmei launched a second round of the "Ten Thousand Sword Technique." With no escape, sword rain mixed with flashes of blood swept through, the lights stinging Mad Feast upon the World's eyes.

When the net was released, only corpses fell. The Phantom Palace had struggled to reach this place, but their deaths came all too easily. Even Mad Feast upon the World himself could hardly believe so many skilled players had been wiped out by just two Shu Mountain swordsmen.

In truth, most "Dynasty" players lived with a fantasy—that PK battles would always resemble the official videos, wild and evenly matched. But when faced with a truly formidable opponent, the outcome was often decided in a single move. It wasn’t the overwhelming power of that move, but the meticulous preparation and setup beforehand that led to their unwitting downfall.

"You bastards!" Mad Feast upon the World roared in fury, raising his Dragon Steel Claw.

Everyone expected him to attack, but instead, he tossed his left hand, releasing a cloud of blue, green, and purple smoke. By the time it cleared, he had vanished.

Zhang He used his perception attribute, listening intently, and couldn’t help but laugh silently—Mad Feast upon the World had only feigned an attack and taken the opportunity to escape.

Of course he would flee—putting Zhang He aside, he stood little chance even against either Hua Feihong or Ma Junmei. If not now, then when?

Ma Junmei, brimming with pride, said, "I used to hear how formidable arcane players were, but now I see they're not so impressive after all."

Second Sister replied with a smile, "That's because your Shu Mountain martial arts are so profound—they simply can't withstand you."

"Now that's true," Ma Junmei said, her enthusiasm soaring, unable to resist boasting, "That net just earned me six points of chivalry. I'm already level fifty-eight. Once I hit sixty, I'll be promoted to Shu Mountain Incense Keeper and able to train the Heavenly Sword. With that, even forty or fifty Phantom Palace players wouldn't be a match. Right, Senior Sister?"

Hua Feihong's face remained expressionless, neither nodding nor speaking.

Zhang He's eyes glinted. "Second Sister, I've helped tidy up your mess. I heard your people have entered the Iron Princess's tomb. I’d like to see the Iron Duke’s soul myself."

Second Sister hesitated. "Well…"

Zhang He immediately patted his chest. "Don't worry about that. We're only going in to have a look, not to fight monsters. Besides, these ladies are all from reputable sects—they’d never do anything to harm their chivalry points."

Second Sister nodded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "In that case, fine. You can have a look. But let me make it clear—once inside, I can't guarantee your safety. Don't regret it later."

Her final words carried a grave tone, accompanied by a wink. Zhang He’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

Ma Junmei, impatient, slapped her chest louder than Zhang He. "Don't worry at all! Fighting for monsters and bosses isn't the Shu Mountain way!"

Zhang He glanced at her prominent chest and said, "President Ma, go easy on yourself—don’t burst it. That thing isn’t as sturdy as a basketball…"

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