The Three Dukes

Chen Zhou asked, "Did Wan Xiu send you?"

The giant creature's movements paused for a moment.

In that single instant, Chen Zhou was certain.

This thing possessed a consciousness.

At that moment, Chen Zhou sensed that the Hatred Fire he had unleashed underground earlier had left a few sparks within the monster's body.

Resentment would make the Hatred Fire burn more intensely, and if it were merely a dead object without a shred of its own consciousness, it would not feel hate and would not allow the Hatred Fire to leave a mark.

Chen Zhou unleashed the Hatred Fire once more.

Pitch-black flames surged from his palm, coiling around the giant's legs before spreading upward to its waist, chest, and neck.

The next second, they resonated violently with the tiny sparks inside the monster.

The giant creature struggled within the flames as its body began to fester and its flesh fell away in clumps.

But it did not scream.

It simply kept its mouth open, continuing to let out weak, faint cries.

Chen Zhou asked, "Do you still remember who you are?"

The giant's movements faltered, and then its mouth twitched even more frantically.

The sounds became slightly clearer.

Chen Zhou leaned in to listen.

He still couldn't make them out.

However, he saw a drop of pus slide from the corner of the giant's eye, resembling a tear.

Chen Zhou controlled the Hatred Fire to burn for a long time, stripping away the giant hundred corpse patchwork's defenses until it no longer had the strength to resist.

It collapsed onto the ground, leaving only its torso and head, looking like a mutilated prisoner.

But it was still moving.

Its mouth was still opening.

Plague Rat walked over, crouched down, and pressed his hand against the giant.

Mist surged out, seeping into the creature's body.

The seventh-stage hundred corpse patchwork, having lost its ability to resist, was easily infected by Plague Rat, who was currently only at the third transformation of Eerification.

Soon, human-face sores began to grow on the giant.

Densely packed human-face sores sprouted from various parts of its body, instantly covering its entire torso.

Every face was contorted and screaming, shrieking something in different voices.

The surrounding little demons trembled in fear, some collapsing to the ground while others desperately backed away or covered their eyes, afraid to look.

Plague Rat looked up at Net Purity. "Old man, come over and take a look. Do you recognize any of these faces?"

Net Purity walked over, crouched down, and stared at the human-face sores.

He examined them one by one.

Then he began to shake.

He was familiar with every single face; they were all his former subordinates.

Some had fought alongside him for years, dying in the trials to seize the Golden Buddha for him, while others had died under his own blade after he lost control and went mad.

He had thought that once they were dead, they were gone, their souls returning to heaven and earth while their bodies returned to dust.

Yet now, a thousand years later, their faces were sprouting from a rotting monster.

Seeing him like this, Plague Rat clicked his tongue. "Old man, do you recognize them or not? Say something."

Net Purity nodded tremblingly, looking at each one. "I recognize them. These were all part of my Personal Guard Battalion back then."

He pointed to one of the faces.

The face was very young and handsome, with a natural mark on its forehead.

"His name was Zhen Qi. He was the youngest in the Personal Guard Battalion, barely over a hundred years old, but he was talented and hardworking. He was one of the young geniuses I favored most."

Net Purity pointed to another face.

"This is Feng Wu, the medical officer of the Personal Guard Battalion. She saved many people."

He pointed to them one by one, speaking their names, each followed by a story.

As he spoke, Net Purity's voice caught, his gaze fixed on one particular face.

That face looked different from the others.

It did not carry the typical features of the demon race but looked more human.

It was very old and covered in wrinkles, with long eyebrows that hung down to the corners of its eyes, but the eyes themselves were very small, squinted into two slits.

The lips of the human face moved, emitting a faint sound.

"Net Purity... Net Purity... Net Purity..."

Net Purity's eyes widened as he replied tremulously, "Duke... Duke Wu?"

"Net Purity... Net Purity... Net Purity..."

Net Purity reached out, wanting to touch that face, but he pulled his hand back as soon as he extended it.

He didn't dare.

Chen Zhou raised an eyebrow. "Duke Wu?"

Net Purity nodded. "Duke Wu was one of the Three Dukes under my command, responsible for the matters of witch doctors."

"A thousand years ago, when the plague was rampant in Tianchi Province, he led the witch doctors to study cures and refine pills day and night, saving countless lives."

Net Purity remembered that Duke Wu was already very old back then, so old he needed help just to walk.

But he never rested.

When Net Purity urged him to rest, he would smile and say, "My Lord, how many more years can these old bones of mine move? I should save as many as I can."

Later, when the Golden Buddha descended, Net Purity went to fight for it and left him in the capital city.

Later still, Net Purity was lured by the Golden Buddha, and after falling into madness, he fought his way back to the capital.

He remembered standing at the gates of the capital, covered in blood, sword in hand.

Duke Wu stood before him, arms spread wide to block his path.

He said, "My Lord, please regain your senses! These are your subjects!"

Net Purity did not listen.

He raised his sword and struck.

Duke Wu fell before him, blood staining the ground.

Before dying, Duke Wu was still looking at him, his eyes devoid of hatred but filled with sorrow.

He said, "My Lord... this old one does not blame you... but please... wake up..."

Then he closed his eyes and never opened them again.

Net Purity stood there, looking at that face, his entire body shaking like a leaf.

It had been a thousand years.

He had thought Duke Wu had long since been reincarnated and started a new life.

But he hadn't.

He had been refined into a hundred corpse patchwork, wandering aimlessly across this plague-ridden land for a thousand years.

A thousand years.

Net Purity didn't dare to imagine what that felt like.

To have no consciousness, no memory, to be nothing but a clump of rotten meat driven to do various tasks.

Occasionally, in moments of clarity, he would remember who he was and what he had once protected, only to be swallowed by endless darkness again.

Net Purity suddenly knelt.

He knelt before that human face and pressed his forehead to the ground.

"Duke Wu... I... I have failed you all..."

All the human-face sores were moving.

"Net Purity... Net Purity... Net Purity..."

"Net Purity... Net Purity... Net Purity..."

Thousands of human faces moved their lips simultaneously, emitting a faint sound.

Those voices merged together, forming a low, deep hum.

It sounded like someone chanting scriptures.

It also sounded like someone weeping.

Chen Zhou stood to the side, watching quietly, and he noticed something.

Although all those human-face sores were calling Net Purity's name, their eyes were different.

The other human-face sores were just clumps of rotten meat with empty, vacant eyes.

But the face called Duke Wu had eyes overflowing with hatred; the obsession he had left behind had been activated by the Hatred Fire.

Chen Zhou found it hard to imagine how much hatred was required for a soulless mass of flesh to give birth to an obsession that could resonate with the divinity of hatred.

Duke Wu—did he hate Net Purity?