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By the time Li Yuan, Naran, and Sheng’er returned to camp, the Wolfmother had already arrived.
The woman whose eyes shimmered with a mysterious, dreamy glow stepped into the tent, dipped a slight bow to Li Yuan and Naran, and asked, “Firstborn of the Sunmother, mighty Khagan, what would you have of a woman who serves the gods?”
Li Yuan returned the bow and got straight to the point. “A member of my family is gravely ill. I hope to secure a coffin in the Deathless Tomb for her.”
There were 6,974 coffins in the Deathless Tomb. Of those, 6,174 were occupied, leaving a full 800 empty.
“Mortals may not enter,” the Wolfmother said the next moment.
“She isn’t a mortal,” Li Yuan replied. “She’s family.”
The Wolfmother fell silent, and so did the surroundings.
After a moment, something in her presence shifted—deeper, darker, more uncanny. When she opened her eyes again, they were as fathomless as the sea.
Li Yuan’s expression didn’t change. He knew the Gravekeeper had arrived.
Sure enough, the voice that came out of the Wolfmother was no longer hers, but cool and remote, as if indifferent to the world. “Do one task for me, and I will grant you a coffin.”
“One task?” Li Yuan frowned.
The Gravekeeper , awakened from the Wolfmother’s depths, only stared at him,...
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