“What on earth is that?” Lyra cried, voice cracking with terror. Legions of skeletons clawed their way out, eye sockets ablaze with spectral green ghostfire. Their joints grated together in a nerve-scraping chack-chack-chack.
Rust-pitted long swords and broken antique swords still hung In their bony hands, grim proof that these were the long-dead cultivators who once fell in the tomb of swords.
Driven by the surging marked aura, the skeletal tide moved with predatory speed. Waves of bloodlust rolled off them as they surged toward Jared.
“Jared!” Corin’s face drained of color. He raised his sword and sprang forward. He had barely taken a single step when an invisible shield blazed into being.
The tomb of swords’ dormant sword domain detonated, weaving a transparent bulwark that sealed Jared away from the outside world.
Corin’s longsword slammed against the shield, producing only a faint ripple. The rebound rattled his organs. Blood traced a bright line across his lip.
“This sword domain… It’s stronger than ever,” gasped, feeling the domain’s hostility multiply, as though the very valley rejected all intruders.
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