Chapter 64: A Ritual Filled with Ceremony
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
After two years, Qin Ming unexpectedly encountered the long-armed man here, and the shock left him momentarily speechless. His heart brimmed with unanswered questions, a desire to unravel the mysteries of the past.
Cui Hong cast Qin Ming only a fleeting glance before plunging back into the ferocious battle, wary of attracting the old elephant’s attention. Any slip might spell disaster. The mysterious, formidable aberrations had already abducted Cui Chong Yi. If they captured Cui Chong He as well, he feared he’d lose his mind.
In that brief exchange, Qin Ming caught a flurry of emotions on Cui Hong’s face—surprise, joy, guilt—all flashing by in an instant. Why such an expression? Doubts began to swirl in Qin Ming’s mind.
As the long-armed man’s expression grew increasingly conflicted during this pivotal moment, his hesitation didn’t align with the reunion Qin Ming had imagined. Watching the man who had once saved his life, Qin Ming’s initial rush of gratitude and excitement gradually cooled into a calm focus.
The narrow mountain path ahead was blocked, leaving the caravan led by the traveling merchant unable to proceed. The group grew uneasy, their nerves frayed by the intensity of the ongoing clash.
The old elephant let out a deafening roar, the mountains seeming to quake in response. Its trumpeting was so thunderous that everyone clutched their ears in pain, grimacing.
To the right of the winding path stretched an endless black desert, its darkness unfathomable like a bottomless abyss. To the left loomed steep, treacherous mountains that spanned as far as the eye could see.
The old elephant’s body gleamed, pure white like jade, radiating celestial light. Whether it was the bladelike arcs cleaving through the air from its trunk or the ivory blade affixed to its forelimbs, each strike possessed terrifying power. When its attacks struck the mountain wall, massive boulders tumbled down relentlessly. It seemed capable of boring straight through the mountain.
Cui Hong, wielding the renowned Heaven-Piercing Technique, radiated an unyielding strength. His arms, bursting with the power of ten thousand pounds, shimmered with celestial light, as if tearing through the night sky. In a fierce display of power, he clashed with the old elephant without yielding an inch.
As the human warrior and high-level aberration fought, celestial light flared and boulders weighing thousands of pounds rained from the mountain, burying the path ahead.
Xu Sheng, the traveling merchant, let out a bitter sigh. “How did I get stuck in this mess?” He led his group further back, desperately avoiding being caught in the crossfire that could annihilate them all.
“This is terrifying…” someone muttered, though most wore expressions of sheer fear.
The clash of the two titans caused a section of the cliff to collapse. Amid the thunderous crashes, an avalanche of stones poured down like a flood, filling the air with dust and chaos. The scene was utterly harrowing, leaving the spectators pale and trembling.
Xu Sheng’s frustration mounted. Why hadn’t the two combatants left yet? They had reached the middle of the perilous mountain path, and their plan had been to leave the desert’s edge before nightfall. Now, with the path ahead blocked, there wouldn’t be enough time to retreat.
Attempting to turn back along the same route was equally unfeasible.
The group made a startling observation: while the celestial light from the two warriors illuminated the steep mountain walls with clarity, the desert to their right remained impenetrably dark. Not even a ripple of light touched its shadowy surface.
“Old elephant, let’s call it a draw. How about we stop here?” Cui Hong called out.
“Fine. Then go,” the old elephant replied, its tone calm. Despite its enormous size, it moved with astonishing agility, leaping onto a nearby peak as though it were gliding. It turned as if to leave.
Cui Hong’s expression hardened. “If we’re stopping, will you release our people?”
“We’re not done questioning them,” the old elephant said without hesitation.
Cui Hong’s voice dropped. “You should know where we’re from.”
“Of course,” the old elephant replied evenly. “The Cui family—legendary, a millennial clan renowned across the vast lands under the night’s shroud. A name that strikes fear into countless beings. But we’re no pushovers either. We live on one of the famed blessed mountains, not far beneath your standing.”
Cui Hong’s expression grew more severe. “Let’s talk this through. There must be some misunderstanding. We’ve only just arrived; there’s no way we could’ve offended you.”
His primary concern was the safety of Cui Chong Yi. He wanted to resolve the matter swiftly and draw the old elephant away. Then, he could secretly return to find Cui Chong He.
As the two formidable figures finally disappeared from their standoff on the cliff, Xu Sheng wasted no time. “Quick, run! No, follow me—run forward with me!” he shouted, urgency dripping from his voice.
Time was running out. Leading the group, Xu Sheng began sprinting, the cool night air slicing past them as they pushed forward. Hours slipped by, and the barren edges of the desert still loomed around them, refusing to release its grip. Exhaustion clawed at their lungs, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, but they pressed on.
Luckily, they were all Awakeners. For ordinary people, the collapsed cliffs and steep paths ahead would have been insurmountable, costing hours just to navigate. Instead, the group powered through, their feet pounding against the uneven ground.
Suddenly, the road ahead disappeared in a thick, swirling fog. The rocky mountain path beneath their feet became nearly invisible. The mist grew heavier, curling around them like a suffocating shroud. Even Xu Sheng, who had been pushing them forward without hesitation, slowed to a halt. The fog was too dense, and taking another step without caution could send them straight into the desert—a mistake they couldn’t afford.
“What do we do now, Xu?” one of the group asked nervously, the tension thick in their voice.
Xu Sheng’s tone was calm but commanding. “Don’t panic. We’ve been respectful to the desert all the way here—no blasphemy, no disrespect. Just stay steady. Nobody let go of the person in front of you. Hold onto their clothing, no matter what happens. I’ll lead.”
Despite his instructions, people instinctively reached for Xu Sheng’s clothes, seeking the comfort of being near their experienced guide. But his sharp rebuke cut through the fog. “Stop crowding me! If anyone falls into the desert, I won’t be going after you.”
In truth, Xu Sheng’s confidence was a façade. His heart pounded as doubts gnawed at him. The old traveling merchant’s words echoed in his mind: You aren’t a true merchant until you’ve walked ten nights on paths where death is one misstep away. Was tonight going to be one of those nights?
Qin Ming, silent and focused, clung tightly to Xu Sheng’s clothing. He had reacted quickly when the fog descended, securing his place right behind Xu Sheng. In moments like this, sticking close to someone with experience was the only sensible choice. The thought of the group being separated—of the middle breaking away from the front—was a terrifying prospect.
Xu Sheng pulled out a torch and tried to light it. Sparks flew but failed to catch. Again and again, he struck it, but the flame wouldn’t hold. Others in the group, carrying their own sources of light, attempted to help. One of them whispered shakily, “Xu… something’s… blowing out my flame. It’s like cold air—chilling my fire every time I try to light it.”
“Stop talking!” Xu Sheng hissed, his voice low but intense. He too felt it now: an icy draft brushing the back of his neck, sending goosebumps prickling across his skin. The fog was unnaturally heavy, swallowing everything around them. The mountain on their left and the path beneath their feet were both obscured in black nothingness. Their senses were failing them.
Qin Ming kept quiet, his unease growing. This wasn’t normal fog. It smothered sound and blurred even their perceptions. The oppressive silence weighed down on the group like a physical force.
Suddenly, someone exclaimed, “Xu! Look, up ahead—there’s another group! They’ve got torches! They’re lit!”
A ripple of relief swept through the group as they spotted faint, flickering lights in the distance. Shadowy figures moved through the fog, leading the way with torches that pierced the gloom. “There really is another group! Their fire’s lighting the road ahead,” someone said with cautious excitement.
But Xu Sheng froze. His entire body went rigid, his sharp intake of breath audible. “Don’t look at the torches,” he said firmly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Don’t focus on that group.”
Confusion swept through the group. “What? Why?”
Xu Sheng turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes low. “At the supply town before we left, I asked around. No one else was supposed to be traveling tonight. It’s just us.”
A collective gasp echoed through the fog. “What… what are they, then?” someone stammered.
Xu Sheng’s voice hardened. “I said, don’t look. Don’t think about it.”
The group faltered. Some stared at the ghostly shapes ahead, their curiosity battling with fear. The torches glowed faintly, inviting yet eerily silent. Even Qin Ming, steady as ever, lowered his gaze quickly after a single glance. The group’s unease only deepened.
Finally, someone couldn’t take it. “Xu Sheng, what are they? You’ve clearly got an idea, so just tell us!”
Xu Sheng hesitated. “According to the old merchant… no, forget it. You’ll be too scared if I explain.”
The group erupted in protest. “You can’t just stop there! If you know something, say it!”
After a long pause, Xu Sheng relented, though his voice was heavy with dread. “Fine. According to the old merchant, those torches belong to something conducting a ritual. Something tied to the gods—or worse. If you join that group, if you so much as stare too long, you’ll be taken. And when you are, you’ll end up on their table as a dish.”
The group fell silent, horror choking any further questions.
Qin Ming stayed quiet too, his gaze fixed downward. The vastness of the night-shrouded land felt oppressive, a brutal reminder of how perilous a journey beyond the desert could be. And they hadn’t even reached the deeper lands yet. What worse terrors awaited?
“Is there another explanation?” one of them finally asked, unable to resist their morbid curiosity.
Xu Sheng sighed. “Some say the fog is the anger of the unknowable forces in the desert. Those torches? That’s their burning fury. If you follow them, you’ll be nothing more than a moth flying into a flame.”
He stopped walking abruptly. “Don’t move,” he ordered. His voice was tense. Something was wrong. The ground beneath his left foot didn’t feel right. Slowly, he lifted it. Sand clung to his boot.
Qin Ming’s pulse quickened. Left was supposed to be the mountain; right was the desert. Yet his left foot was sinking into sand.
Behind them, someone stumbled into another, nearly losing their balance. “Watch it! Oh, sorry, I—wait, you’re a girl? Don’t worry, no harm done—what the—” The man’s voice faltered, his tone changing to unease. “Why are you hanging onto me like that? Okay, fine, I’ll carry you if you’re scared. Just… put your arms around my neck.”
Moments later, his voice turned into a frightened whisper. “Why… why are your nails so long? And so cold?”
Everyone froze. Fear gripped the group as the man continued, his voice trembling. “Please, stop touching my neck… I think… I think I’m bleeding.”
No one dared speak. The weapons in their hands suddenly felt like feeble defenses against the growing darkness.