Twisted shadows of broken beacon walls stretched across the twilight, like skeletal fingers plunged into the sea of sand. I trudged over weathered battle bricks, crushing not just grit beneath my boots but also skeletal finger bones wedged in crevices—undead waymarkers Shadow Tracer warlocks used to claim territory. The Surface and Inner Twins' misty forms glided low, tamed by wind into two spectral threads that solidified behind a dune thirty paces ahead.
"Master, twelve bone-soldiers—soul-calming nails at the joints." Surface's voice grated like shifting sand, his bone-blade gleaming cold in moonlight, the black mist swirling along its edge resonating with the soldiers' curse-script. "Cursed circuits link the second lumbar vertebra to the scapula."
Inner's will-o'-wisps suddenly constricted, reflecting a silhouette atop the beacon—the bone-soldier warlock straddling a broken flagpole, his robe woven from human bone shards, each etched with inverted "Peace" curses, a forbidden art to chain spirits. His hip bronze urn quaked violently, spilling grievance that condensed into twelve skeletal warriors, fingerbones stiff as blades, soul-calming nails at their joints pulsing blood-light.
I inhaled sharply, sand mixing with the thick stench of rot—the trapped grievances of bone-soldiers. My tiger tattoo burned, fine scales rippling beneath skin: a warning from the Tiger's Might. Simultaneously, my left arm bulged uncontrollably, bronze fur erupting from pores—the Ape's Strength, a gift from absorbing a profound ape's soul in the underground cave, surging through my veins.
"Surface, sever the nail-links; Inner, disrupt his seal-weaving." I whispered, tracing the First Guardian's Soul-Split Seal into my palm. The twin spirits shot forth like arrows: Surface's mist trailing long in the sand, Inner's wisps splitting into twelve lights circling the beacon's summit.
As the first bone-soldier's fingerblade slashed down, my transformation completed. Bones cracked like popping beans, amber beast-eyes snapping open—vision shifted to heat-vision, revealing dark-red currents of cursed circuits within the skeleton, the lumbar nail glowing as their convergence point.
"ROAR!" The tiger's roar dislodged sand from the beacon's peak. I sidestepped the blade, Ape's Strength flooding my right arm. Muscles burst through sleeves, bronze fur rippling with tiger-striped light—their first symbiotic patterns on my skin. Tiger-claw and ape-claw struck in unison: the former jabbing the cursed node, the latter crushing the sternum.
The skeleton collapsed, only to split into two smaller bone-soldiers at impact. The warlock's laughter echoed from above: "Frontier beast, know the Shadow Tracer's bone-soldier art? Each frame is forged from a soul's obsession!" His chest's Black Tortoise fragment suddenly glowed, tortoise-shell curses projecting twelve bone-lances—the same Shell Impact of the Black Tortoise Guardian three centuries past.
Inner's wisps coiled around the warlock's wrist, but he shattered them with a spirit-totem blast. Surface's bone-blade bit into the second soldier's lumbar, mist creeping along the nail—only to shriek on contact with Tortoise-curses. Then I saw: each soul-calming nail etched with the Bureau's "Sickness" seal. These skeletons… forged from the bones of soldiers who'd hunted the Four Guardians.
"So that's it." I landed humanoid, tiger-patterned armor flickering over skin. "Reinforcing bone-soldiers with Bureau curses—no wonder they resist undead power." Ape's Strength surged again, left arm fully beast-transformed, bronze fur studded with tiny tiger-scales, fingertips sprouting half-foot bone-claws: a fusion of grievance and beast-force.
As the third wave advanced, I'd mapped the cursed circuits. Surface's mist split into twelve streams, infiltrating through fingerblades—severing lumbar-scapula links the moment they swung. Inner's wisps morphed into Bureau's sun-moon illusions, bombarding the warlock with twelve phantoms to disrupt his Tortoise fragment control.
"ROAR!" Ape's Strength erupted. I caught two fingerblades bare-handed, bronze fur sparking from friction. Tiger-eyes locked onto each soul-calming nail; as ape-claws crushed their caps, Surface's blade shredded cursed circuits from within, skeletons collapsing like marionettes with cut strings.
The warlock panicked, ripping the Tortoise fragment from his chest—the shell's curses resonating with my tiger tattoo. Memory-shards pierced my mind: in storm, the Black Tortoise Guardian's shell blocking twelve dragon-breaths, its curses echoing with my halberd—the Four Guardians' final back-to-back stand.
"How dare you desecrate Lord Tortoise!" I snarled, shattering a bone-soldier's skull, tiger-armor blazing gold in the dark. Surface's mist coiled around the warlock's ankles; Inner's wisps burned toward his hip bronze urn—housing the bone-soldiers' core spirits.
In a last gamble, he pressed the Tortoise fragment to the beacon's broken wall. The shell dragon-rumbled, revealing half a Black Tortoise Guardian's skeleton embedded in the wall, a broken spear still lodged between its ribs. Bone-soldiers bulked instantly, fingerblades elongating into ten-foot bone-spears, soul-calming nails flaring crimson.
"Bad news! He's awakening Tortoise's fragmented soul!" Inner's wisp screeched. I looked up—bone-soldiers' eye sockets glowed the same cyan as the Black Tortoise Guardian's, their stances shifting to his ancient Shell Formation.
Ape and Tiger forces clashed violently within me, chest threatening to split. Surface's bone-blade bounced off a bone-spear; Inner's wisps couldn't near the tortoise-curses. Then it hit me: I channeled the Undead Symbiosis Art learned in the soul-abyss, resonating my grievance with the Tortoise fragments in the bone-soldiers.
"Lord Tortoise, lend me your strength!" I pressed palms to a bone-soldier's sternum, armor's grievance flooding in. Its cyan light dimmed—I "saw" a three-century memory: the Black Tortoise Guardian overwhelmed by Taotie automata, his shell shattered into fragments—one now in the warlock's hand.
The bone-spear suddenly turned on its master. The warlock watched in horror as his soldiers, lit by Tortoise's cyan light, honored the Four Guardians' final dignity—uncrushable by Bureau seals.
"Surface! Inner! Attack the fragment's curses with all force!" I reverted to humanoid, tracing the Four Symbols Convergence Formation in air. Surface's blade misted into five streams, piercing the fragment's five cursed nodes; Inner's wisp condensed into the Tortoise Guardian's battle-roar, shattering soul-calming nails on the beacon wall.
The warlock's robe disintegrated, revealing a Bureau totem tattooed on his chest. He fumbled for spare soul-calming nails, but my thrown halberd pinned him to the wall—the blade's tiger-curse resonating with the Tortoise fragment, severing his bond with the bone-soldiers.
As the last bone-soldier fell, I caught the dissipating Tortoise fragment—a cyan glow trembling in my palm, showing the Guardian's dying face: "White Tiger, Gui 墟's Eye is—" Cut short by Shadow Tracer curses, leaving only a faint star-map.
As the warlock's spirit shrunk into a wisp-cocoon in Inner's flame, Surface had gathered all twelve soul-calming nails. The "Sickness"-etched nails wailed beneath my tiger-armor, crumbling to dust to reveal primal patterns—symbols the Four Guardians used to mark comrades' bones.
"Master, the Tortoise fragment's curses are broken." Surface knelt, holding the shattered tortoise-shell, "These bone-soldiers… they're the remains of our old shadow-guards."
I traced the shell's inner etchings—the Black Tortoise Guardian's own words: "Though my bones shatter, my soul guards the Frontier." Ape and Tiger forces fused completely: bronze fur on my left arm retreated, replaced by tiger-scales, each embedded with tiny Tortoise-curses at their centers.
The beacon collapsed in the night wind, sand rising as the twelve bone-soldiers' remains self-assembled into the Tortoise Battle Formation. Inner's wisp settled at its core—the once-corrupted souls, now purified by tiger-marks, manifesting as the shadow-guards' spectral forms, saluting me with a three-century-old military bow.
"Rise, brothers." I murmured, armor's grievance forming a cloak around these fading spirits, "The Frontier's wind forgets no guardian."
The Twins' mist softened—they felt the memories surging within me: days and nights fighting alongside the Black Tortoise, vows held in storm. Surface's bone-blade lost its chill; Inner's wisp dimmed from ghost-green—united with me, with these souls, in an unprecedented resonance.
Seven days after the beacon battle, we entered a cracked sandstone canyon. Ochre cliffs gaped like a giant's wound, geothermal moisture clashing with desert heat to form a eerie advection fog at the valley floor, thick as trapped grievance. The Twins' mist-bodies tensed: Surface's bone-blade materialized, Inner's wisp-pupils reflecting a three-hundred-step anomaly—snake-like tracks on the sand, each trailing faint Bureau "Sickness" curses.
"Master, Shadow Tracer's 'Venomous Crawl Art'." Inner's voice echoed in my mind, wisps splitting into three to scan the canyon's upper, middle, lower paths, "Venom-fog warlocks refine mist from souls' envy—deadly on contact with blood."
I gripped the Tortoise bone-spear, shadow-guards' soul-marks on its shaft warming. Tiger-tattoo glimmered, scales beneath skin rising instinctively—a warning of corrosive gas. Ape's Strength pooled in my legs, bronze fur dotted with tiny tortoise-curses: anti-magic gained from absorbing the Tortoise fragment.
Stepping into the fog, my nose stung with acid rot. Vision blurred, sand-like venom-mist seeping through armor joints, igniting a million ant-bites where it touched skin. I looked down: fine purple spots blooming on my arms—envy-grievance eating at flesh.
"Surface! Black mist barrier! Inner! Analyze the venom-mist composition!" I spun, Tortoise spear tassel erupting into a protective mist-shield. Surface's mist-body shadowed me, keeping venom at bay; Inner's wisp probed the mist's core.
"It's Eater-of-Souls Mist—condensed from envy-grievance!" Inner's wisp high-pitched shrieked, "Twelve grudge-corpses hidden within—hearts torn out, chests stuffed with Bureau 'Envy' curse-papers!"
The cliff cackled, a hunched figure materializing from mist. His robe was woven from dead men's tongues, each tongue-tip writhing with ancient spells to shred souls. His hip bronze flask dripped blood that birthed new venom-mist, heartless female corpses crawling from mist, nail-slits caked with Shadow Tracer snake-curses.
"Lord Cursed Tiger," the warlock's voice scraped like rusted wire on stone, "You've destroyed seven of our bone-soldier strongholds. The Bureau offers a century of life for your skull." His chest's Taotie banner snapped open, twelve grudge-corpses' chests erupting with envy-venom fangs: "Let these women, betrayed by your comrades, taste betrayal!"
As fangs struck, I tiger-transformed. Amber beast-eyes flared through venom, heat-vision mapping each fang to a curse-paper in the corpse's chest. Ape's Strength drove my arms, Tortoise spear spinning a impenetrable defense, tip's tiger-curse clashing with fangs in a crystalline shriek.
"Inner! Burn the curse-papers! Surface! Cut the venom supply!" I slammed the spear into the ground. Surface's mist-body shot forward, crashing into the warlock's flask—bone-blade slicing its seal, venom-line snapping; Inner's wisps flared into twelve azure flames, incinerating "Envy" papers in the corpses' chests.
The corpses' wails shook the canyon, their bodies disintegrating to reveal "grudge-cores" in their spines—Shadow Tracer's control nodes. A soul-abyss memory resurfaced: these women were Frontier healers, hearts torn out for aiding the Four Guardians; their "envy" was just unfulfilled rage at fate.
"So you spared no healers." I crushed a grudge-core, tiger-armor's grievance flooding through broken curses, "Surface, protect their fragmented souls! Inner, map the warlock's cursed circuits!"
Seeing his corpses disintegrate, the warlock panicked. He tore off the Taotie banner, its curses resonating with venom to bleed black slime from the canyon walls—a sign of corrupted earth veins. The mist condensed into a giant snake-phantom, its forked tongue dissolving sandstone to dust.
"Master! He's channeling envy primordial from deep earth veins!" Inner's wisp quaked, "Destroy the banner's cursed core first!"
I gripped the Tortoise spear, shadow-guards' spirits manifesting along its shaft, their armor-clangs merging into a battle-roar. Ape and Tiger forces resonated within, scales and fur bristling into a half-tiger, half-ape form. Surface's mist sharpened the spear-tip; Inner's wisp etched soul-calming curses along the shaft—our first "human-spirit-weapon" trinity fusion.
"ROAR—!"
As the spear-tip tore the venom-snake's tongue, I saw the warlock's madness drain, leaving only terror of death. The banner's cursed core glowed in his 眉心 —a Bureau "Envy" seal now in deadly resonance with the mist. I channeled the Undead Symbiosis Art, bridging his curse to the grudges' fragments.
"You think envy-grievance is power?" I advanced, spear-tip at his head,"It's just twisted unfulfilled rage." Armor's grievance poured in—I "saw" his memories: deceived by the Bureau, believing venom-craft would resurrect his love, only to become a dark practitioner.
The grudges' fragments appeared in the venom, their hands passing through him to touch the portrait of his dead wife on his chest. Inner's wisp decoded the cursed circuit; Surface's blade traced the First Guardian's Soul-Passage Seal in air. As the curse shattered, the warlock's madness dissolved into tears.
"So she was already…" He collapsed, "The Bureau lied…"
I knelt, steadying his shaking shoulders: "Now you can join her." Tracing a tiger-pact on his head,"But first—help me turn this envy-grievance into a weapon against the Bureau."
Mist poured from the Twins, enveloping his body. His skin became translucent, half-mist, half-solid, his wife's portrait replaced by a tiger-mark—the sign of a new undead pact. Twelve grudge-fragments gathered, their grudge-cores transforming into pure protective grievance under the tiger-mark.
When the venom cleared, the canyon's hidden murals emerged: the Four Guardians fighting ancient dragons alongside Frontier healers. The heartless healers were the lantern-carrying divine maidens in the murals, their sacrifices erased by the Bureau, now revealed through grudge-resonance.
"Master, the venom-warlock's undead transformation is complete." Surface knelt, the new spirit named "Mist," his mist-body gliding freely through venom, "His curse-memories hold the ventilation routes to the Bureau's underground vaults in Emperor's State."
I looked into the deep canyon, where geothermal moisture had turned to pure mist, Mist's form flickering within—echoing the healers' lantern-silhouettes of old. Inner's wisp floated to the murals, reflecting the divine maidens' lamps, resonating with Mist's mist-body: Shadow Tracer's venom-art was once the healers' mist-cure, twisted by the Bureau into a killing dark art.
"Come, Mist." I traced the new mark on the Tortoise spear, "Tell the Frontier's wind that healers and warriors, in undead form, will keep guarding this land."
Mist—once the venom-warlock—nodded silently, his mist-body merging with the Twins' black mist, the third member of our undead legion. The canyon wind swept over us, no longer corrosive, but cool—comforting these souls finally at peace.