The soldier truly lived up to his reputation as a battle-hardened veteran. Even though he was suddenly ambushed, he still managed to swing his saber horizontally, blocking the hammer in front of him. The blacksmith, though imposing and wielding an exceptionally heavy hammer, was clearly unskilled in martial arts and relied solely on brute strength. Although the rebel soldier was forced back several steps by the impact, and blood seeped from the web of his right hand gripping the saber, he still stood his ground firmly.

Seeing the blacksmith’s face full of rage, the soldier snorted coldly, drew his saber from its sheath, and slashed down with a streak of cold light. Clang! With a sharp crack, the head of the blacksmith’s hammer was sliced clean off.

“What a fool with no sense of self-preservation. I hadn’t even noticed you hiding, and you could have kept your miserable life, but you insisted on courting death. Fine, I’ll grant your wish!”

As the second slash was about to fall, the blacksmith was surely doomed. Grace Walker felt his heart clench, unable to bear watching any longer, and hurriedly squeezed his eyes shut. Not to mention that he was now in the body of a six-year-old child—even if he had the strength of an adult as in his memories, he would still be no match for this skilled rebel soldier. How could he possibly save anyone?

Thud! Blood splattered three feet away.

The blacksmith, whose abdomen was nearly sliced open, instead burst out laughing. “Scoundrel! I’ll make you pay the price!” Somehow, a bronze bracelet had appeared in his hand, now stained a deep red by his own blood.

Grace Walker kept his eyes shut, but his ears perked up. What he heard was not the blacksmith’s death scream, but rather the rebel soldier’s voice, filled with utter terror: “Corpse-controlling bronze ring! You actually have a corpse-controlling bronze ring!”

Unable to contain his curiosity, Grace Walker opened his eyes and saw the blacksmith, intestines spilling out and eyes rolled back, letting out a hoarse roar as he lunged at the soldier with both hands. His speed was like a raging storm...

Chapter Two: The Ancient Corpse-Controlling Bronze Ring

Crash! With a clang, the rebel soldier’s saber was knocked flying by the blacksmith’s swinging arm. Though the soldier was highly skilled, he was no match for this burly man who, in an instant, had become as tough as iron and copper, with boundless strength.

Grace Walker stared wide-eyed, utterly shocked by the ferocity of the fight between the two.

“What kind of hellish world have I landed in? How can a random brawl be this intense? The blacksmith moves like lightning, smashing down a wall with a casual swing, his guts spilling out, yet he doesn’t die. This is truly bizarre!”

Having lost his saber, the soldier could no longer withstand the blacksmith’s rampage. In a moment of carelessness, the blacksmith seized him by the throat with both hands. Even from a considerable distance, Grace Walker could hear the crunching of bones. The thought of witnessing someone’s neck being snapped made Grace Walker’s hair stand on end.

“Damn it! To run into a lunatic with a corpse-controlling bronze ring... I still have to—” At the brink of death, the rebel soldier suddenly erupted with a blue aura, spun around, and struck the blacksmith’s chest with a powerful palm.

Crack! With a sharp sound, the blacksmith’s ribs seemed to snap under the force of the blow, but he refused to let go, only tightening his grip.

The soldier struck several more times with all his might, but still couldn’t break free from the blacksmith’s grasp. Gradually, his movements slowed and weakened. With a sickening, grinding crack, his head drooped limply—dead beyond any doubt. The blacksmith, too, seemed to have lost all strength, and the two of them remained entangled, motionless...

“Damn it all to hell! What kind of world is this?” Just moments ago, seeing the soldier burst forth with blue energy, Grace Walker thought he might turn the tables, but in the end, both sides perished together.

Having narrowly escaped death, he kicked at a nearby corpse to make sure it was truly dead and not still breathing. Thanks to the fact that Grace Walker had once made a living drawing anatomical diagrams of corpses for a medical school, he was able to suppress the nausea and keep from vomiting.

“Damn, really dead. Looks like I really have been reborn in some godforsaken era! For now, I need to figure out how to fill my stomach before anything else!”

He dared not approach the two bodies still locked together—if one of them suddenly came back to life, he knew he’d have no way to deal with it.

Enduring the stabbing pain in his back, Grace Walker cursed under his breath at some unknown deity, then slipped into a relatively decent-looking house in the village. He rummaged around and found a dozen or so things that looked like squash, then hastily cooked them over the stove.

He didn’t know what strange abilities this body might have, but after struggling for a while, the pain in Grace Walker’s back gradually eased. When the pot of squash-like things was thoroughly cooked, he grabbed a bowl and chopsticks and ate half the pot by the stove. Once his hunger was sated, he immediately felt drowsy and, leaning against the stove, fell into a deep sleep.

In his dreams, Grace Walker was back home, cuddling with a beautiful girl he’d just met, when suddenly a heavy thud jolted him awake. Rubbing his eyes, he was about to curse when he suddenly remembered that there hadn’t been any living creatures in the village for a while—so where had that sound come from?

He was certainly brave, but with so many new ghosts in the village, and the sky outside not yet fully dark but already tinged with gloom, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.