CHAPTER 554: JIANGSHI

What Han Yu saw weren’t men. They were corpses.

More accurately, they were zombies—Jiangshi, powerful undead controlled through ancient curse and necromantic arts.

He studied them more closely now. The faint scent of old decay clung to them, hidden beneath the smell of metal and blood. Their armor occasionally emitted a faint pulse of red light, like the beating of a heart that no longer existed.

When a disciple passed too close, one of the guards tilted its head ever so slightly, following the movement with eerie precision before returning to stillness.

"They are watching," Han Yu thought. "Even if they look frozen, they see everything."

The oppressive aura of death around them made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He had fought many things in his life, but this was different. These creatures were beyond reasoning. They would not flinch, hesitate, or bargain.

He moved carefully between the rows, pretending to study one of the merit lists while quietly scanning the room. Near the far end of the main chamber stood two enormous doors made of blackened steel. Above them hung a massive plaque engraved with blood-red characters: Merit Hall Elder Office.

And guarding that door were two Jiangshi unlike the others.

They were taller, almost three meters high with thicker armor, layered like scales. Their halberds were larger too, and from beneath their helmets, faint red light shone where eyes should have been. The aura they exuded was suffocating, heavier than most living cultivators Han Yu had encountered.

He could sense their strength clearly now. Each one was equivalent to a Nascent Soul realm cultivator.

Han Yu stared at them in disbelief. "Two Nascent Soul zombies just standing guard... that’s insane," he thought. "What kind of sect uses corpses this powerful for security?"

He couldn’t help but imagine the sheer scale of the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect’s military power. If this was just a fraction of their strength, then the entire world truly had reason to fear them.

The thought that they could send an army of these things... thousands of them, tireless, unkillable made his stomach knot.

"They didn’t need to send living disciples to purge the tomb," Han Yu realized grimly. "They just wanted to let the sect’s members play."

He looked around once more. Every disciple who entered or exited the hall walked carefully around the guards, never making sudden movements, never raising their voices. Even the elders passing through gave the Jiangshi wide berth.

Han Yu exhaled slowly. "This sect doesn’t need loyalty," he thought to himself. "They’ve replaced loyalty with fear... and death."

After a moment, he gathered himself and began walking toward one of the side counters. He had come here for a reason, after all. His goal was to synchronize Ju Fan’s merit records.

Still, as he walked past another Jiangshi, the faint scrape of metal echoed from behind him... a single, slow motion, like a hand tightening on a weapon. Han Yu froze for a heartbeat, then continued walking, forcing his steps to remain steady.

The sound stopped.

He didn’t dare look back.

The longer he stayed here, the more he understood the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect was not just powerful, it was unnatural. Every system, every rule, every creation within it was designed to crush the soul and replace it with obedience.

As he approached the counter, the red glow from the hall’s lanterns reflected in his eyes, making them glint faintly.

"Alright," he muttered quietly, setting the merit token down before the attendant. "Let’s get this over with."

Behind him, the Jiangshi continued to stand sentinel, motionless beneath the bleeding light of the eternal red moon.

Han Yu walked deeper into the Merit Hall, his eyes scanning the intricate layout of counters and glowing formations that lined the interior. The faint hum of Qi resonated in the air, weaving through the low murmurs of the countless disciples.

Crimson lanterns cast wavering light on the floor, their reflections shimmering faintly on the polished black stone beneath his feet.

Rows upon rows of disciples stood in lines, waiting for their turn to approach the various counters.

Each counter had a different sign carved into a metal plate glowing with soft red light: Exchange, Resource Requests, Task Submissions, Merit Appraisals, and more.

Han Yu carefully walked along the outer edge of the room, his eyes darting between the signs until he finally spotted one that read Synchronization & Verification Counter.

There were nearly two hundred people lined up before it, but to Han Yu’s relief, the line moved quickly. Disciples barely paused for a few seconds each, tapping their blood red identity tokens on the glowing stone platform embedded in the counter before leaving wordlessly.

"This must be the right one," Han Yu thought, stepping into line.

The line inched forward steadily.

The process seemed completely automated. The formation carved into the counter glowed each time a token touched its surface, scanning and updating the individual’s merit balance almost instantly. A faint pulse of red light would rise from the stone, and the next disciple would step up without a word.

Han Yu glanced around quietly as he waited.

The synchronization hall was one of the few relatively calm areas in the entire Merit Hall. Everyone here had the same blank, disciplined expression, each one following the flow like an obedient cog in a massive machine.

He noticed that even those who had looked fierce or wild outside behaved with restrained composure here.

It took barely five minutes for his turn to come.

Stepping forward, Han Yu approached the counter. The attendant behind it, another gaunt-looking man with pale gray skin and hollow eyes, didn’t even look up.

’Does everyone get makeup when they join the sect or something? Why do all of them look the same?’ Han Yu wondered but didn’t say anything.

He simply gestured toward the formation stone without a word.

Han Yu took a quiet breath, keeping his expression neutral, and placed his token on the stone.