Seven-Star Coffin, Heaven-Burying Tomb.When the coffin opens, the Star Officials return!!
A look of horror flashed in the tomb robber's eyes. A thought surfaced in his mind like a bolt of lightning—an ancient legend. According to that legend, the Seven-Star Coffin wasn't just any burial casket. It was a coffin used to bury celestial Star Officials of the heavens. And they weren't dead—they were merely slumbering. Nurtured by the power of the stars, they would awaken upon the opening of the coffin.
They would become celestial officials once more.
Whether the legend was true or not didn't matter.
The Seven-Star Coffin was known to be ominous and eerie. Ordinary tomb robbers would never dare open one. The consequences of doing so were unknown, but stories claimed that those who tried—those who couldn't resist the greed in their hearts—were all buried in the tomb, never to return.
So when he saw the Seven-Star Coffins, glowing with starlight, fear surged through the tomb robber's heart. His body tensed involuntarily.
"I didn't expect this to be a Seven-Star Coffin. But who exactly is buried here? The coffins must be connected to the tomb's master. Otherwise, if there's no bond of fate, a Seven-Star Coffin array can't be formed. Don't tell me… the tomb owner lost seven people from their family?"
He muttered to himself, chilled to the bone.
Yet the thought of leaving empty-handed was even worse than fear. He came to this ancient tomb for treasure. How could he walk away now? That would be the cruelest torment imaginable.
"No way. I came all this way—I have to walk away with something. If I return empty-handed, I'll be a laughingstock. Without treasure, how am I supposed to survive out here? I, Old Liu, carry royal blood. Even in the Eternal Continent, I'm destined to dig up a glorious future! I already know there are villages and towns nearby. If I strike it rich, I can settle in town and live the good life."
Determination flared in his eyes.
Even if it was a Seven-Star Coffin—he would open it. He had to. Failing to would be a humiliation.
He was the ancestor of all tomb robbers, after all.
"Don't think a Seven-Star Coffin can stop me. I've awakened the Spirit Coffin Life Aperture—any coffin, even one of an immortal, I can open. Though my life aperture's power only allows me to suppress two or three times, I can still open two or three of the seven coffins. What I get will depend on my luck. Please, let me win big!"
The Spirit Coffin seal on his forehead glowed more brightly.
This was the true reason for his confidence in tomb raiding.
With his mind made up, he strode quickly toward the platform, approaching the seven bronze coffins. Crafted entirely of bronze, they gave away nothing of what lay inside, and opening them wouldn't be easy.
But that didn't matter to him.
The only question now—was which coffin to open.
"Spirit Coffin buries the heavens—nothing is taboo!!"
He shouted.
From the mark on his forehead, divine light flickered—and suddenly, a Spirit Coffin Lantern appeared before him. It looked like a work of art, shaped like a lotus lamp, with silhouettes of myriad spirits in worship swirling across its surface.
The lantern floated forward and landed atop one of the bronze coffins.
Ding!
The lantern's light shrouded the entire coffin. Prayers of worship echoed faintly as sacred radiance bathed the bronze surface.
"Open the coffin!"
The Spirit Coffin's light penetrated the bronze, as though the coffin was no obstacle at all. As he gave the command, the lid of the coffin—undoubtedly heavy beyond measure—began to slide open on its own, pushed by an unseen force.
No physical contact. It was as if invisible hands were at work.
This was the power of the Spirit Coffin Lantern.
It established a karmic bond with the coffin's occupant, enabling the tomb robber to retrieve items without disturbing the tomb's master. A forced transaction, in a way.
As the coffin opened, he stepped forward.
But as he looked inside—his eyes widened with shock. All excitement vanished. It was like ten thousand chickens were running wild in his heart.
"No way… Where's the treasure? Why… why is there… a chicken?"
He nearly lost his mind.
Anyone would've reacted the same. Inside the coffin, there was no gold, no jade, no rare artifacts. Not even a corpse.
There was… a chicken.
A literal chicken.
Who puts a chicken in a coffin?
Tomb burial was a sacred ritual. Who would bury a chicken in their grave?
"This… this isn't an ordinary chicken. This tomb is at least several thousand years old. Yet the chicken inside hasn't decayed at all. It's still full of vitality. Look at those feathers… the form… it looks like a Five-Colored Brocade Chicken—a legendary breed, the best of all chickens. But still, using a Seven-Star Coffin for this? That's a bit much, isn't it?"
He felt like his worldview had been shattered.
A Five-Colored Brocade Chicken buried in a Seven-Star Coffin? Was this some kind of twisted joke?
He could even feel life in the chicken. It was alive.
"Forget it. I opened the coffin—I can't leave empty-handed. This Five-Colored Brocade Chicken is rare beyond measure. If I raise it right, it could make me rich. I'm taking it."
He clenched his teeth and grabbed the chicken from the coffin. It was nearly twice the size of a normal chicken.
This… was his loot.
"I'll open one more. No way the next one is a chicken too. I refuse to believe I came here just to catch chickens."
With a twisted expression, he resealed the Seven-Star Coffin and summoned another Spirit Coffin Lantern, setting it atop a second bronze coffin.
"Open the coffin!"
As light engulfed the coffin, he muttered desperately, clasping his hands in prayer.
"Please, let it be treasures. Let me get rich. I'll honor this tomb forever, I'll set up a longevity tablet for the master. Just please—not another chicken. Anything but a chicken."
He cautiously peeked inside.
And froze.
His face turned pitch black—matching his black tomb-robbing clothes perfectly. He collapsed to the ground, legs twitching, staring up at the ceiling in total despair.
"Heavens… Earth… are you playing a joke on me?"
"The first coffin had a chicken. Now the second one has… a dog? Are you mocking me? Saying I'm 'stealing chickens and dogs'?"
He looked utterly defeated.
A dog. Not gold, not jade. A literal dog.
A spotted mutt. The most common kind of dog.
Seven-Star Coffins—fit only for nobles and royalty—were being used to bury a chicken and a dog?
His mind couldn't process it.
His sacred view of burial rites was completely shattered.
He couldn't accept it.
He refused to accept it.
He began to doubt everything. Had ancient tombs become this poor? Not a single treasure—just a chicken and a dog. Was this some kind of trap for tomb robbers?
He felt like his soul had left his body.
Smack!
After a moment, he leapt to his feet with a twisted grin.
"Screw it. In for a copper, in for a gold. I'll take both the chicken and the dog. If you want to call me a chicken-and-dog thief, then fine—I am one. A dog that's lived in a Seven-Star Coffin this long must be halfway to immortality!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed the spotted dog in one hand, the brocade chicken in the other.
He cast one last venomous glance at the remaining coffins. He still had the strength to open one more—but he wasn't about to try.
What if the next one held a pig?
Was that the tomb master calling him a pig?
Nope. Not happening.
This tomb's master was clearly the nemesis of all tomb robbers. A complete lunatic.
"I'm outta here!!"
With a vicious laugh, he carried his two prizes and quickly retreated along the tunnel he'd dug—vanishing from the platform.