Ouyang glanced east, then west, rubbing one gravestone, knocking another, his face heavy as thunderclouds.

His reaction made the quartet jump like startled birds.

“Bad luck. Pure bad luck. These gravestones are just common rock. I thought they were pricey ore. What a waste.” He scolded the stone like a dull blade, and everyone exhaled in relief.

Jie lifted a hand under her veil, dabbing the cold sweat on her brow.

“Mr. Ouyang, so there’s no danger?” Her voice carried a bite. His little scare had rattled them, only for him to fret over something so trivial it felt like a prank.

The others stared with a “don’t joke with us” look. They’d been chilled to the bone.

“So… who first heard about this place?”

The sudden turn left them blinking. No one knew what medicine he had in his gourd.

“Me… I learned it from the Astrologer.”

Jie didn’t hide it. Ouyang propped his chin with one hand, thought a beat, then murmured, “Sounds like that Astrologer has a grudge with you.”

The line dropped like a pebble in a well. Jie didn’t catch it at once, but the bald Shuo’s eyes lit with realization. Ang grew thoughtful. Ya, long used to walking the razor’s edge, felt a chill of understanding.

Ouyang went on, voice even. “This mass grave’s layout carries weight. The Demon King is sealed, so he couldn’t arrange it. This pattern is an ancient rite. People call it the Demon King’s Offering.

“Step living flesh into that skull-lined passage, and the rite awakens. Those lives get offered to the sealed Demon King.”

Jie’s loosened nerves pulled taut again. The three men wore an “ah, so that’s it” look.

“From the words surfacing on the stones, I’d say the sacrifices are almost enough. Offer your batch, and that Demon King might crack his sleep. So the Astrologer who sent you here is malicious. He definitely bears you a grudge.”

Ouyang folded his arms, wearing a “what a hassle” look.

“Damn it. We got played. Without Mr. Ouyang, we would’ve…” Jie bowed deeply to the other three. “If reaching our goal, our deaths would mean something. But this time, without Mr. Ouyang, we’d die for nothing. That’s on me.”

In that team, Ouyang could see it clearly: she was the one who commanded and decided. Her reaction only confirmed it.

“Still, no need to fret. Meeting me, Grand Scholar Ouyang, is your good fortune. Breaking this rite is easy. The catch is, once we break it, the sleeping Demon King might stir.”

He patted his chest: leave it to me.

“Even if he stirs, he can’t shatter the seal. Nothing to worry about there. So—your choice. Turn back now, or have me break the rite and push deeper?”

Jie’s heart swung like a door in wind. The Astrologer meant harm, so retreat made sense. But a hard knot of unwillingness burned in her chest.

She looked to Ang and the others, asking without words.

“We won’t meddle with your decision,” Ang said. “But whatever comes, we’ll be the shield before you.” Shuo and Ya echoed him.

Jie hesitated long, then set her jaw. “We’ve come this far. We continue! Eh… Mr. Ouyang?”

While she wavered, Ouyang grew impatient. Shovel in one hand, pickaxe in the other, he’d already gone to dig.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Jie spotted him in the distance, swinging the cross-pick against a gravestone.

“By the way, any spatial rings? Lend me one. I’ll return it later,” Ouyang called to the four.

They all had them, of course. If you hunt the Demon King’s treasure, not wearing a few spatial rings is unprofessional.

“No?”

Seeing his disappointed face, and thinking how they’d be dead without him—and still needed him ahead—Jie made up her mind. She slipped off the ring with the red gem on her left hand.

That rattled the three men.

“Your Highness, that ring… I’ll give him mine instead—” Bald Shuo hurried to loosen his ring. Jie stopped him. “Mr. Ouyang has done so much for us. Think of this as part of his fee. We’ll rely on him going forward. Besides, exploring the Demon King’s palace has never been bloodless. We could die any time. Consider it my compensation to Mr. Ouyang.”

Her tone left no space for argument.

Ouyang took the ring. To his eye, nothing special. He couldn’t fathom their fuss. A ring this trashy—back in the demon-wracked era, he wouldn’t take it even if begged.

He slid it onto his left ring finger. A small sound came from under Jie’s veil, but when he looked up, she said it was nothing. Inside, she was tangled tight: in the human kingdoms, the left ring finger meant marriage. She’d given the ring, and he’d worn it there. Embarrassing. Still, how he wore it was his freedom. She couldn’t stop him.

No one else noticed the ring finger but her; only a careful girl would.

Ring on, Ouyang lifted the pick and hammered another stone. At last, the gravestone cracked, revealing a blue crystal within.

“That’s a Divine Grace Crystal? A god-gifted relic, bursting with mana. Each one’s worth a king’s ransom!” Jie recognized it at a glance.

Ouyang calmly pried it free and tossed it into the spatial ring.

Divine Grace Crystals were exactly what he needed. Their mana would patch his combat flaw. Casting spells, forbidden spells, or sigils all demanded a sea of mana—and a mind to bear it.

Ouyang’s mental strength needed no praise. Give him enough mana, and he could unleash world-ending forbidden arts.

For him right now, a Divine Grace Crystal was fire in winter. He could spend mana freely and fight as he pleased.

The quartet stared at him with fever-bright eyes. Ouyang wore a “who, me?” face. He raised the pick and went at the next stones. Crack—the gravestone opened to another crystal, this one gray.

Another Divine Grace Crystal.

He pocketed it as casually as tossing pebbles, ignoring their gazes.

When he cracked the fifth stone, two remained. Muscled Ya finally woke up. He hefted his greatsword and smashed a gravestone. It didn’t budge.

Not convinced, he swung harder. Still nothing. Not even a hairline crack. Ang and Shuo tried in turn. Useless.

Ouyang finished the sixth, then walked to the last gravestone and tapped away.

Clang. Clang.

He used less force than they did, that was clear. Yet, time working like water, the stone split and showed a purple crystal. He flicked it into the ring, ignoring their pleading eyes.

Done with that, he took up the shovel and started digging graves.

All seven graves held pitch-black skeletons. Each time he opened one, he drove the pick into the skull’s forehead, blow after blow, until a hole gaped. Only then did he move to the next grave.

Elsewhere, Xi and Irina shadowed their trail, then drifted into a different mass grave.

“Where are they? Did they vanish here? We looped so far just to end up this close? Don’t tell me they spotted us.” The yin wind threaded the graves, and Irina trembled head to toe.

In truth, they’d tailed from afar and didn’t take the same path, so they missed the other burial field.

“This place… is that Demon King planning to summon a skeleton army?”

Gravestones crowded like teeth. A cold wind knifed through. White paper scraps whirled like funeral snow. Irina wilted on the spot.