They unearthed more than just stones. Helmets cracked and rusted, arrowheads dulled by time, fragments of shattered spear shafts, and occasionally, the grim discovery of human bones. But soon, they began to encounter something else. Tools left overnight would be found twisted and rusted by morning, coated in a strange, aggressive reddish-brown corrosion that spread far faster than natural decay. Workers started complaining of peculiar ailments – joints stiffening as if locking with rust, skin developing strange, metallic-tasting rashes, and a pervasive, chilling fatigue that settled deep in their bones.
Then came the disappearances. A pair of brothers scavenging for scrap metal near a cluster of burial mounds vanished overnight. A work crew clearing a particularly dense patch of thorny scrub failed to return by evening; their abandoned tools were found days later, fused together by thick, unnatural rust. Fear, cold and metallic, began to grip the reclamation project. Workers deserted, whispering tales of vengeful soldier-ghosts rising from the blood-soaked earth, of a 'rust curse' clinging to the land. Magistrate Ouyang, facing delays and potential unrest, found his pragmatic worldview strained to breaking point. His initial attempts to quell the rumours with threats and dismissals proved useless against the palpable dread spreading through the region.
It was his chief clerk, a scholarly man named Peng, who, having heard tales of Xuanzhen's exploits in other provinces, cautiously suggested seeking the Taoist's counsel. Peng argued that even if the phenomena weren't supernatural, a figure like Xuanzhen might calm the workers' fears or perceive environmental factors others missed. Desperate, Ouyang agreed, sending an urgent summons.
Xuanzhen arrived in Xiangyang to find a city outwardly prosperous but inwardly anxious, the whispers from the Scorpion Tail Fields casting a long shadow. Magistrate Ouyang received him with a mixture of skepticism and desperation, detailing the disappearances, the strange rust, the workers' fear, and the pressure he faced.
"Master Taoist," Ouyang said, trying to maintain a semblance of official composure, "I am a man of law and reason. I suspect bandits, or perhaps some natural blight or poisonous vapour from the disturbed earth. But my people are terrified. They speak of ghosts, curses... If you can simply dispel these fears, restore order..."
"Fear often has roots, Magistrate," Xuanzhen replied calmly. "Sometimes in the seen, sometimes in the unseen. I will visit these fields. The earth remembers, and battlefields hold potent memories."
Accompanied by Clerk Peng and a small, nervous escort of guards, Xuanzhen travelled to the edge of the Scorpion Tail Fields. The landscape was bleak, scarred by old earthworks and dotted with weathered burial mounds. The air felt heavy, stagnant, carrying a faint, sharp scent like old blood and corroding metal. Xuanzhen’s senses immediately registered the disturbance – a powerful, chaotic qi field saturated with the energies of violence, fear, unresolved anger, and immense, lingering resentment. It felt cold, sharp, and predominantly metallic, yet deeply rooted in the earth itself.
He examined the site where the work crew had vanished. The abandoned tools were indeed fused by an unnatural, aggressive rust that seemed almost organic in its texture. Touching the affected metal, Xuanzhen felt a jolt of cold, hostile energy. He knelt, sifting the soil, finding fragments of ancient, rusted armour embedded deep within. The negative energy was strongest here, coalescing like a storm cloud.
He spoke with some of the few remaining labourers, listening to their fearful accounts of strange clanking sounds at night, of shadows moving among the mounds, of the creeping rust and the debilitating fatigue. One man showed Xuanzhen a rash on his arm – small, reddish-brown patches that felt hard, almost metallic, beneath the skin. It looked chillingly like the beginning of the same corrosion affecting the tools.
"This is no ordinary rust, nor simple haunting," Xuanzhen murmured to Clerk Peng. "The lingering energies of the battle – the shed blood, the discarded weapons, the intense emotions of the dying, particularly those unburied or dying with great resentment – have combined with the metal buried in the earth. They have formed... something else. An entity born of iron and rage." He thought of ancient texts describing elemental spirits formed under extreme conditions, how intense concentrations of specific energies could sometimes coalesce into a semblance of life.
As dusk began to bleed across the desolate fields, Xuanzhen dismissed the guards and Clerk Peng, instructing them to wait at a safe distance. He needed to observe the phenomenon directly. He found a vantage point on a low rise overlooking the most disturbed area, near the cluster of burial mounds. Settling into a meditative state, he extended his awareness, becoming attuned to the field's grim energies.
The wind died down. An unnatural silence fell. Then, it began. A low, scraping sound, like metal dragging on stone. From the earth around the burial mounds, shapes began to stir. Not ghosts in the ethereal sense, but shambling figures seemingly composed of rusted armour fragments, broken weapons, earth, and bone, held together by a dark, binding energy. They moved with a jerky, unnatural gait, their forms shifting, incorporating loose shards of metal from the ground as they advanced. They were vaguely humanoid but lacked distinct features, save for occasional glints of malice that seemed to spark from within their corroded helms. There were perhaps half a dozen of them, a grotesque parody of a military patrol. This was the Rust-Forged Host.
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They didn't seem immediately aware of Xuanzhen. Their attention was focused on a group of wild dogs scavenging nearby. The figures advanced, their movements stiff yet unnervingly fast. The dogs snarled, then yelped in terror, trying to flee. But the rust-figures were quicker. They swarmed one dog, and Xuanzhen watched in horror as their touch seemed to instantly spread the aggressive corrosion. The dog's fur matted, its flesh seemed to harden and discolour, and with a final, choked whimper, it collapsed, becoming rigid, almost statue-like, already beginning to resemble the rusted metal figures that surrounded it. The figures then began incorporating fragments of the dog's now-corroded form into their own shifting bodies.
Xuanzhen understood with chilling clarity. The entity wasn't just haunting the field; it was actively consuming, converting, and incorporating. It fed on life force (qi) to sustain itself, and it sought to grow by transforming organic matter through its 'rust plague', adding to its collective form. The missing people hadn't just been killed; they had likely been absorbed, becoming part of the Host.
Knowing direct confrontation with the multiple figures would be dangerous, Xuanzhen focused on understanding the controlling energy. He sensed a central nexus, a focal point of the animating resentment, located beneath the largest burial mound. This was likely the resting place (or un-resting place) of the commander or group whose intense dying emotions had catalyzed the entity's formation.
He retreated carefully as the Rust-Forged Host continued its grim patrol. He met with Magistrate Ouyang and Clerk Peng, explaining the true nature of the threat – not ghosts, but a dangerous elemental entity born of war's refuse and lingering resentment, capable of consuming and transforming living beings.
"This Rust-Forged Host is anchored by the unresolved anger of the dead and fueled by the metallic energy of the battlefield," Xuanzhen explained. "We cannot simply fight it; we must address the root causes – pacify the resentment and neutralize the chaotic elemental energy."
His plan involved a multi-pronged Taoist approach:
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Pacification: Researching the specific battle fought there (Peng was tasked with searching provincial records) to identify the likely commander and circumstances, followed by a formal ritual of acknowledgement and appeasement for all the fallen soldiers, especially those potentially betrayed or unburied.
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Elemental Neutralization: Using the principles of Wu Xing. The entity was predominantly Metal (armor, weapons, rust) fused with Yin/Water (resentment, cold). Xuanzhen planned to use Wood element energy (planting specific types of trees or burying wooden talismans) to absorb and control the aggressive Metal, and Fire element (controlled ritual fire, possibly using specific mineral powders) to purify the resentment and transmute the negative qi.
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Grounding and Sealing: Establishing a proper memorial shrine (Earth element) to honour the dead and anchor positive, stable energy. Finally, creating a boundary array around the most affected area using consecrated stones and talismans to contain any residual influence.
Peng’s research uncovered records of a brutal battle centuries prior where a Song contingent, led by a famously brave but ill-fated Commander Xie, was ambushed and annihilated due to faulty intelligence provided by a rival faction. Their bodies were reportedly left unburied on the field. This confirmed Xuanzhen’s suspicion of betrayal and unresolved resentment being the core anchor.
Under Xuanzhen’s direction, preparations began. Magistrate Ouyang, now thoroughly convinced and deeply alarmed, provided resources. Saplings of resilient pine and willow (strong Wood element) were brought. A stone stele was carved, honouring Commander Xie and all soldiers who fell in the Scorpion Tail Fields. Xuanzhen prepared special talismans and powders.
The ritual took place over three days, beginning with the planting of the trees around the perimeter of the affected area. On the second day, Xuanzhen led a solemn ceremony at the site of the largest burial mound, formally acknowledging Commander Xie’s sacrifice and the injustice suffered by his men, burning paper offerings, and chanting prayers for the release of all spirits bound to the field.
The climax occurred on the third day at dusk. Xuanzhen, assisted by Peng and a few brave guards (kept at a safe distance), established the final ritual space near the central mounds. As he began the chants of neutralization, the Rust-Forged Host emerged from the earth, larger now, seemingly agitated by the positive energy shift. Figures clanked and scraped, their forms shifting, the air growing bitingly cold.
Xuanzhen remained focused. He lit carefully prepared pyres incorporating purifying herbs and mineral powders (Fire element), the smoke rising thick and white. He directed Peng and the guards to strike large bronze gongs (Metal sound to disrupt the entity's coherence) at specific intervals. He himself moved through a precise sequence of mudras, channeling his qi, visualizing the Wood energy absorbing the Metal, the Fire purifying the Yin, the Earth grounding the chaos.
The Rust-Forged Host reacted violently. Figures charged towards the ritual space, their rusted claws swiping. But they seemed weakened, their movements less coordinated. The purifying smoke billowed around them, causing their forms to sputter and corrode even faster, chunks falling away. The resonant gong strikes made them stagger, their internal cohesion disrupted.
As Xuanzhen completed the final sequence, driving a wooden stake inscribed with powerful grounding symbols into the earth at the ritual's centre, the figures froze. A collective, grating sigh echoed across the field. The reddish glow within them dimmed. Then, with surprising speed, they crumbled, collapsing into piles of inert, rusted metal, bone fragments, and earth, the animating force completely dispersed.
The heavy, metallic qi lifted. The air cleared, feeling clean, though still holding the profound stillness of a place marked by death. Xuanzhen oversaw the final placement of the memorial stele and the setting of boundary stones.
Magistrate Ouyang, profoundly relieved, ordered the reclamation project halted indefinitely, declaring the Scorpion Tail Fields a memorial site. The strange rust afflictions among the workers began to slowly fade.
Xuanzhen left Xiangyang soon after, the image of the Rust-Forged Host etched in his memory. It was a grim testament to the enduring power of war's refuse – not just the physical remnants, but the lingering energies of violence and resentment. Left unaddressed, such echoes could fester in the wounded earth, coalescing into monstrous forms that sought only to consume and replicate the very conflict that birthed them. Pacifying the past, honouring the dead, and restoring elemental balance were crucial, not just for the peace of spirits, but for the safety of the living who walked unknowingly upon blood-soaked ground.