They didn't need to say it; Xue Xinyu could already sense their unspoken desire—they wanted their general back. But before he could even consider attempting such a feat, there was something he needed to know.

"How did he die?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the general's coffin, the stillness of it unnerving.

The answer was critical. Of all the soldiers here, the general was the only one who hadn't risen from death.

"We don't know," they answered in eerie unison. One stepped forward. "I was the last to see him, but just before my death, he disappeared."

Xue Xinyu's mind whirred with the implications. If their stories had clashed, suspicion would have clouded everything. But this unified response, the strange consistency, made the truth even more haunting. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, revealing something far darker. This wasn't just a resting place—it was a cage, a meticulously constructed prison. Cultivators had built it, no doubt, knowing full well that even in death, this army posed an unimaginable threat. If the general were revived, their control would crumble.

They must have done something to the general's body, something to keep him sealed away.

The possibility of his resurrection weighed heavily in the air, a looming shadow that haunted both the trapped souls and those who had trapped them. Another thought, wild and unsettling, flickered at the edge of Xue Xinyu's mind—what if even Ende had forsaken its own general, abandoning him to this tomb for reasons lost to time?

Regardless of what truly happened, one thing was certain: some powerful qi, or perhaps an artifact, was involved in binding the general here.

Xue Xinyu stepped cautiously toward the coffin, each movement slow and deliberate, tension crackling in the air. The undead shifted, sensing his intent, and tried to intervene—but it was already too late.

Suddenly, arrows shot from the walls, swift and deadly, aimed straight at them. But Liang Zhiguan, always alert, raised a barrier just in time, the arrows splintering harmlessly against the invisible shield.

They stood there, poised on the brink of something unknown. The coffin, the soldiers, the deadly trap—it all pointed to one undeniable truth: the key to everything lay just ahead, waiting within that coffin.

With steely resolve, Xue Xinyu pried open the coffin lid, his heart pounding in anticipation. As the lid creaked open, what met his eyes was not the decayed remains of a long-dead general, but something far more perplexing.

The general's corpse lay peacefully, his face untouched by the ravages of time. Though his skin had the pallor of death, there was an unsettling warmth to his features, as if he was merely sleeping and could awaken at any moment. It was a contradiction—life and death intertwined, an enigma that defied the laws of nature.

Xue Xinyu's fingers lightly brushed the general's form, his touch respectful, not intrusive. He wasn't trying to force the dead to stir; he was searching for answers. His hands moved carefully over the body, feeling for any hint of necromancy or arcane tampering that could explain the strange preservation. But there was nothing. No signs of forbidden magic, no lingering aura of undeath. The general's body was pristine, as though time had not dared touch him.

In the world of the undead, even the most subtle shift in energy could reveal volumes—a faint pulse of dark magic, the cold aura of unlife. But here, there was only silence, an unnatural stillness that spoke louder than any lingering magic. No trace of the usual signs of the transition from life to death. This man, though long gone, did not seem truly dead.

Xue Xinyu's gaze fell next to the most telling sign of undeath: blood, or rather, the lack of it. Among the undead, the state of one's blood often revealed much about their condition. Those who had only recently crossed into the realm of unlife often retained a twisted version of their former vitality, while others found their veins devoid of any trace of life's crimson essence.

Yet, the general's body, though drained of blood, remained untouched by decay. Not a single blemish marred his form. It was as if he had been plucked from time, preserved in flawless stillness, defying both nature and magic. Xue Xinyu's brow furrowed; it was a puzzle that defied explanation, mocking the limits of understanding.

With no apparent answers, Xue Xinyu turned to a last, desperate measure. Pressing his palm against the general's brow, he summoned a surge of demonic qi—a dark force that, in the world of the undead, could stir even the dormant. The energy crackled in the air, a silent call that could draw kin or enemies alike.

Closing his eyes, Xue Xinyu concentrated, trying to pierce the veil of mystery surrounding the general. But before he could delve deeper, a sudden force seized his arm, yanking him back violently. The unexpected jolt shattered his focus, and his eyes snapped open.

The general had moved.

With a resounding thud, the coffin lid slammed shut, plunging Xue Xinyu into suffocating darkness once more.

"Shizun!" Liang Zhiguan's voice echoed through the chamber, a desperate cry laced with fear and frustration. He rushed to the coffin, fists hammering against the unyielding lid in a frantic, futile attempt to free his master.

But for Xue Xinyu, the sudden transition was disorienting. One moment, he was trapped within the coffin's cold confines, and the next, he stood amidst the bustling streets of a city. Blinking against the harsh light, he took in his surroundings: a fog-laden metropolis, its streets thrumming with life. People streamed past him, faceless blurs in the haze, the cacophony of their movements blending into a distant murmur.

Though calm on the outside, Xue Xinyu's mind raced in silent panic. Where in the hell am I?! Is this some divine punishment?! The disorientation threatened to overwhelm him, but his years of discipline kept his expression neutral, betraying none of the turmoil roiling beneath the surface.

Despite the inner chaos, Xue Xinyu moved through the city with practiced ease, the grace of a seasoned traveler guiding his steps. He navigated the crowded streets effortlessly, slipping between the throngs of people without drawing undue attention to himself.

His gaze swept across the city, and then he saw it—a towering palace, its majestic silhouette dominating the skyline. It rose above the labyrinth of buildings, a beacon of power and authority. Something about it called to him, though he couldn't place why.

As if in answer to his unspoken question, music drifted through the air, pulling his attention to a crowd gathering nearby. A procession of knights on horseback emerged from the mist, their armor gleaming under the faint sunlight. One figure, in particular, caught his eye—a man astride a magnificent steed, his regal bearing impossible to ignore. His presence was magnetic, drawing the eyes of all who saw him.

Then, like a lightning strike, realization hit Xue Xinyu. The man on the horse was none other than the general—the very same whose lifeless form had lain in the coffin moments before. But this was no hollow corpse. The figure before him was very much alive, his face animated, his eyes gleaming with the fire of vitality.

How was this possible?

Driven by an urgency that left no room for hesitation, Xue Xinyu moved swiftly to catch up with the mysterious figure in the distance. His steps were measured but quick, as he deftly navigated the streets, weaving through the crowd with purpose. In one fluid motion, he vaulted onto the back of a passing carriage, slipping into its shadowed interior. Hidden from view, he remained unnoticed by the bustling masses, save for one—a lone figure who cast a knowing glance in his direction, acknowledging his unseen presence amidst the chaos.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Xue Xinyu's lips as he whispered the ancient incantation, "Dre'ka har'zul vor'gath," summoning a spectral steed from the otherworldly realms. With practiced ease, he swung onto the horse's back, swiftly closing the distance between himself and the general, whose regal figure remained just ahead. As he pulled alongside him, an eerie silence seemed to settle over them, muting the clamor of the world around them.

For a brief moment, Xue Xinyu considered his next move. Should he embrace the mysterious, brooding hero persona, cape billowing dramatically behind him? Or perhaps he should play it cool, offering a disarming smile that would make him seem effortlessly suave. Then again, there was always the option of nonchalant indifference, as if he had just wandered in casually, unfazed by the chaos surrounding them.

Decisions, decisions. Maybe he'd just wing it. After all, in a world where undead armies and strange generals were commonplace, trying to be cool might be overrated.

"Are you here to put an end to my suffering, Star of Destruction?" the general asked, his voice low and strained, eyes averted from Xue Xinyu.

The question brought a hint of amusement to Xue Xinyu's expression. It was almost funny, given that the general and his undead followers had assumed the same thing earlier.

"That depends entirely on what you consider an end to your suffering, General," Xue Xinyu responded, forcing himself to appear at ease on horseback, even though he silently cursed his discomfort with the animal beneath him.

For the first time, the general turned his gaze toward Xue Xinyu, abandoning his earlier indifference.

"What do you mean by that, Star of Destruction?" he asked, his tone edged with curiosity.

Xue Xinyu allowed the silence to stretch for a moment before answering, "I offer you two paths: eternal death, or joining the ranks of the undead." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before adding, "Choose wisely."

The general's brow furrowed, the gravity of the decision clear. Xue Xinyu remained deliberately vague, watching for the general's reaction.

"If I were to become undead," the general asked, his voice laced with uncertainty, "who would stand with me, Star of Destruction?"

Xue Xinyu resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the repeated use of the title. It's starting to get annoying, he thought.

"Do you want to know the fate of your men?" Xue Xinyu countered.

"Yes," came the immediate reply.

"They've already become undead," Xue Xinyu revealed, glancing around at their unfamiliar surroundings. "And they seek to free you from this prison."

As the general absorbed this revelation, Xue Xinyu couldn't help but think: Where the hell are we, anyway?