Chapter 80: The Enchanted Graveyard

Han Shuo fell to the ground, steadied himself, and surveyed his surroundings—a vast laboratory. All manner of containers and enormous skeletal remains were arrayed throughout the space. Along the nearby walls, several lamps burned with an eerie green phosphorescence, casting a dim glow that kept the laboratory from total darkness.

Around him were several other rooms. As Han Shuo explored them one by one, he found that in two of these rooms, shelves groaned under the weight of books on necromancy, as well as tomes of dark magic. These volumes were ancient, thick with dust, and the collection dwarfed even the library of the Dark Arts Department at Babylon Academy of Magic and Martial Arts. Many of the books were entirely unknown to Han Shuo.

The other four rooms stored a variety of magical materials. Each container was tightly sealed, filled with liquids of every hue, alongside strange bones and the glowing fangs of fierce magical beasts.

As Han Shuo examined the laboratory, the green orb in his hand suddenly burst forth with dazzling verdant light. The brilliance enveloped the entire space, and within a circular magical sigil on the floor, a shadowy wraith appeared.

“My child, welcome. If you are seeing this projection, I have already returned to dust. To understand all that lies within the Grave of Death, you must listen carefully to every word I say.”

The shadow was dense and impenetrable—neither the surrounding light nor the glow of the green orb could reveal its true form. Its voice was dry, each word emerging with difficulty.

Startled, Han Shuo immediately understood: this was a message left by a sorcerer—a magical projection. Realizing the importance of what was about to be revealed, he focused his attention, absorbing every word.

“First, you must know that the Grave of Death was, in our era, the sacred ground of necromancers, the summit of necromantic magic. The Grave of Death is mobile. If you can ultimately master everything here, you will possess a terrifying city…”

The ethereal voice continued its tale. Han Shuo listened intently as the narrative unfolded, until it concluded: “You will see me again on the next level.” With that, the shadow vanished.

Beyond the great magic array above and the laboratory-library on this floor, there were two more levels below. To gain complete mastery over the Grave of Death, one would need to reach all the way to the lowest floor. From the shadow’s words, Han Shuo learned, to his shock, that the Grave of Death was a mobile fortress of unimaginable power.

The green orb was the key to entering the Grave of Death, imbued with the sinister mental imprint of a necromancer. Anyone without the aura of undeath who acquired the orb would be unable to resist its corruption and would ultimately become a mindless zombie.

Though Han Shuo was only an apprentice, he did possess a trace of necromantic energy, sparing him from the curse. But his spiritual power was weak; had it not been for the aid of his magical cultivation, he too would have perished.

The wondrous magical energy he trained in was unlike any energy in this world. It had miraculously strengthened his spirit at the critical moment, allowing him to endure inhuman agony and reap great rewards—something even the orb’s creator could not have anticipated.

From the shadow’s message, Han Shuo gleaned only limited knowledge; deeper secrets awaited on the lower levels. After a moment’s silent reflection, he returned to the rooms filled with magic books.

These tomes were the crystallization of necromantic magic, relics from its golden age—priceless treasures to Han Shuo. Babylon Academy’s library was immense, but its collection of necromantic texts was sparse, and most were basic or intermediate. Advanced works were exceedingly rare.

Leafing through the dust-laden books, Han Shuo could not help but marvel at the collection’s superiority in both quality and quantity over that of the academy.

Among them were three volumes titled “Necromantic Magic,” divided into upper, middle, and lower tomes, placed in the most prominent spot. These had clearly received special treatment, sealed within a magical container and preserved as if untouched by time.

The upper volume alone was thick and substantial. Upon opening it, Han Shuo found detailed explanations ranging from the origins of necromancy to its very essence. The knowledge within diverged greatly from what was taught at Babylon Academy; many of the spells and theories were entirely new to him.

Starting from the middle volume, each page was accompanied by a handwritten note, offering detailed annotations. Yet, even with these notes, Han Shuo struggled to understand the more profound passages. The upper volume’s opening chapters were barely within his grasp, and lacking annotations, they posed a considerable challenge. Perhaps the original compiler believed that anyone reaching this point would require no further explanation.

After some thought, Han Shuo resolved to start with the first volume, intending to use this complete set of “Necromantic Magic” as his curriculum and study it diligently. His decision made, he left the laboratory with the orb, returned to the upper level without interference from any magical barriers, and plunged himself into its study, forsaking sleep and rest.

For several days, Han Shuo clung to the tome, pondering each word and sentence. He realized that the magic taught at Babylon Academy, including the spells he had learned, was shallow in comparison to the knowledge contained here—especially the sinister magics that even Vannie had never revealed to him.

“Corpse Resurrection” was one of the most fundamental necromantic spells. It could transform the dead into zombies under the caster’s command; with sufficient spiritual power, one could raise a terrifying army of the dead.

“Veil of the Dead” was another wicked spell. Once cast, it greatly enhanced the agility and combat prowess of all dark creatures beneath its shroud, while sapping the strength and will of enemies caught within, leaving them at a severe disadvantage.

There were several other spells of this ilk in the volume, all said to have been lost to time, beyond the reach of modern necromancers. Yet here, they were recorded in complete detail.

Han Shuo understood that he had stumbled upon a treasure beyond price. Should this “Necromantic Magic” ever be made public, it could instantly transform the fortunes of necromancers, restoring their terrifying might to the continent.

For nearly ten days Han Shuo alternated between meditation and poring over the tome. “Corpse Resurrection” was an elementary spell, but without corpses he could not practice it. “Veil of the Dead” was advanced—his spiritual power still insufficient.

Nevertheless, during this time Han Shuo mastered the Bone Spear spell, and was close to mastering the art of summoning zombies, though communication with the nether realm remained a challenge.

Judging by the passage of time, the Demon Slayer Blade should be finished soon. Han Shuo decided to leave the Grave of Death and, together with the little skeleton, carefully avoided higher-level magical beasts while hunting lesser ones to bring along, then set out toward the dwarven village.

Midway there, as Han Shuo neared the village, the clash of weapons reached his ears. Alarmed, he quickened his pace, darting through the underbrush with the little skeleton, heading straight for the source.

Dozens of ogres and nearly a hundred goblins, armed with crude weapons, were besieging the dwarves. The dwarves, wielding gleaming new weapons, held a crucial advantage—their arms were far superior to the makeshift blades, forks, and clubs of their foes, which shattered like twigs against dwarven steel.

Relying on their superior armaments, the outnumbered dwarves had managed to hold out thus far. Not far behind them lay their village, home to unarmed women and children. For their safety, the dwarves dared not retreat, lest the village’s location be exposed and disaster fall upon their families.

This sight ignited a surge of rage in Han Shuo. As he ran, he drew his crossbow; with a series of sharp twangs, several bolts flew, instantly felling an ogre and two goblins. Sensing his master’s fury, the little skeleton raced ahead, firing its seven bone spikes in all directions. Shrill whistles sounded as bloody lines spurted from ogres and goblins alike.

“Oh, it’s Han—he’s here!” Bennett, beset by a swarm of goblins, shouted in delight at Han Shuo’s arrival.

Like wolves among sheep, Han Shuo and the little skeleton plunged into the fray, unleashing a brutal slaughter. The little skeleton was especially fierce—its seven bone spikes danced among the enemy, sending ogres and goblins sprawling.

Upon arriving, Han Shuo summoned several skeletal warriors, each wielding bone knives, and sent them charging at the marauders. He himself stood motionless, targeting the fallen ogres and goblins and beginning to chant the spell for “Corpse Resurrection.”

After several failed attempts, Han Shuo, ignoring the dwarves’ astonished stares, persistently recited the incantation, striving to make the freshly dead rise again.

At last, an ugly goblin with a crossbow bolt through its chest lurched upright at Han Shuo’s command, clutching an iron club and tottering toward a living goblin nearby. Emboldened by his success, Han Shuo recalled the steps of the spell, and cast “Corpse Resurrection” anew.

Success again! This time, an ogre stood up. Soon, five or six more ogres and goblins rose at Han Shuo’s bidding, lifting weapons to attack their former comrades.

This spectacle struck terror into the hearts of the ogres and goblins. Seeing their fallen kin stand and turn against them, they screamed in panic, shouting something in their guttural tongue and scattering in all directions.

Even the dwarves watching nearby looked at Han Shuo with fear and unease, their gazes now markedly different from before. Han Shuo, startled, realized what he had done. With a word, he ended the spell, and the dead ogres and goblins crumpled back to the ground.

“Han, that magic of yours is too sinister—it even frightens us!” Bennett approached, hesitated, and finally spoke.

Han Shuo understood. “Corpse Resurrection” was indeed a dark and disturbing magic, difficult for most to accept. He nodded, replying, “Bennett, I understand. But I did it to save you all.”

“We know. Thank you, Han. Still, this magic is hard to stomach. Even those wicked ogres and goblins were terrified of you! Come on—your weapon is ready; let’s return to the village and fetch it for you!”

Overjoyed to hear that the Demon Slayer Blade was finished, Han Shuo followed them back toward the dwarven village. The little skeleton, its seven bone spikes retracted, did not accompany him but instead, at Han Shuo’s command, expertly stripped the valuables from the corpses.

Led by Calvin, Han Shuo entered the dwarven settlement, where Bennett guided him to the forge where the Demon Slayer Blade had been crafted.

“Han, here is the weapon we forged to your specifications. See if it meets your approval,” Bennett said, indicating the blade with his hammer.

The Demon Slayer Blade was two feet long, with a keen, cold edge. Its body was a dark bronze; the tip, razor-sharp like a bayonet, was heavy in the hand.

Han Shuo examined the blade closely, then drove it into a whetstone with a single motion. With a muffled thud, the sword sank to the hilt.

Nodding, Han Shuo smiled at the anxious Calvin. “Elder, thank you for your craftsmanship. I am most pleased with this weapon.”

“Haha, as long as you like it! We mixed black iron, dark gold, and more than ten rare metals. I’m very satisfied with it myself,” Calvin replied, visibly relieved.

“Be careful,” Han Shuo cautioned. “Ogres and goblins may return soon. I’ll be away for a while, but next time I come, I’ll bring you your winter provisions. Take care of yourselves.”

After leaving these instructions, Han Shuo eagerly returned to the Grave of Death. There, he infused his blood and magical energy into the Demon Slayer Blade, following the memory left by Chu Canglan, forging it for three days and nights. His magical power, mingled with his blood, slowly permeated the blade.

After three days, Han Shuo was exhausted, his magical force nearly spent. The blade, once dark bronze, now gleamed a deep crimson. Over the next several days, as his strength returned, Han Shuo used the Demon Slayer Blade to practice the “Demon Commandment,” striving to control the blade with his mind.

During this process, the meridians throughout his body ached fiercely. One day, bracing himself against the pounding waterfall, Han Shuo gritted his teeth and used his magical energy to temper his entire body. Suddenly, he fell into a trance.

Unaware of how much time had passed, Han Shuo awoke to find himself submerged in a cold pool. Emerging from the icy water, he realized the Demon Slayer Blade was gone. Alarmed, he searched frantically.

At that moment, a ray of dark red light shot from the pool, flying straight toward him. Han Shuo tensed, ready to dodge, but an inexplicable sense of connection bloomed within him, as if he shared a bond with that crimson glow.

Momentarily stunned, a sudden realization flashed through his mind. Acting on instinct, the ray responded to his will, dancing in midair. Focusing on a fish swimming in the pool, Han Shuo willed it—and in a flash, the Demon Slayer Blade pierced the fish.

“It seems I’ve succeeded!” Han Shuo extended his left hand, and the blade shot from the water into his palm.

With magic circulating through his body, the “Frostfire Demon Art” now advanced much faster than before. Han Shuo was astonished to find that frost seeped from the blade, forming a layer of ice atop the pool.

As his magical power coursed through every meridian, he realized that it now flowed several times faster than before, with no more blockages anywhere—he was ecstatic.

He knew this was the breakthrough to “Meridian Expansion,” the sign of reaching the “Soul Shaping” stage. After surviving countless perils and days of sleepless cultivation, Han Shuo had finally advanced once more.

Now, with his magic improved and the Demon Slayer Blade in hand, Han Shuo felt it was time to leave the Grave of Death and put an end to Glover’s threat once and for all.

Emerging from the cemetery’s rear, Han Shuo did not seek out Phoebe at once; instead, he remembered Vannie. He had long harbored feelings for her. After their last meeting, he had intended to consult her about magic, but upon receiving the dark gold ore from Phoebe, had hurried back to the Grave of Death.

There was much in the upper volume of “Necromantic Magic” that Han Shuo still did not understand, and without annotations, he hoped that Phoebe, as a high-ranking necromancer, would offer greater insight. He had already noted down his questions and now planned to ask her.

The Babylon Academy of Magic and Martial Arts held great prestige in the Empire. Though Glover hated Han Shuo, he dared not act against him openly within the academy. Each department had formidable instructors; aside from the Necromancy Department, even more powerful leaders presided over the others. Even if the assassin “Shadow” came, survival would be all but impossible if discovered.

It was now evening. After a day of study, the students were relaxing and dining. Han Shuo did not go straight to Vannie’s laboratory, wary of drawing attention. He waited until night had fully fallen, then quietly made his way to her residence.

Having long since learned where Vannie lived, Han Shuo navigated the campus with ease, heading directly to the teachers’ dormitory where she stayed, under cover of night.

PS: Today’s update has surpassed ten thousand words! I beg for your votes—thank you all for your support!