Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Three: They Came to Collect the Offerings
“This, didn’t I tell you already? I’m a deity, whether you choose to believe it or not! Now you believe, right?” Luxianbei said, raising an eyebrow at Meng Raoze.
As her words fell, she suddenly felt a warmth spreading through her eyes, a sensation unlike the discomfort she felt during encounters with urban legends.
Instead, it was warm, gentle, almost like a comforting heat, allowing her to experience a kind of indescribable ease.
At the same time, she found herself entering an inexplicable strange state, a vague expectation rising within her heart like a flickering spark yet to be ignited.
Then…
“Girl, don’t joke around. What kind of deity are you?” Meng Raoze chuckled awkwardly, saying so as a smile appeared on his lips, suddenly feeling a chill around his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the cold light reflecting off the kitchen kn*fe and swallowed his mirth back.
It was as if a bucket of cold water splashed over him, instantly extinguishing the flicker of flame still smoldering in Luxianbei’s heart, pulling her back from that strange state.
Luxianbei, “…… What kind of deity doesn’t look like me?”
I pondered, Jumeng doesn’t seem that grand either!
“Fine, if you don’t believe, whatever!” she said irritably, shifting the topic back on track, “Alright, let’s continue with our Q&A session.”
As she spoke, she brandished the kitchen kn*fe threateningly in front of Meng Raoze.
“After hearing the snake language, can one become a priest? What do those who share your situation do after becoming priests?”
“No, not at all.” Meng Raoze shook his head, sighing, “If it were that easy to become a priest, it wouldn’t be a lifelong nightmare…”
As he spoke, his state gradually turned bizarre; his body trembled uncontrollably, cold sweat dripped from his forehead, and his eyes twitched erratically, his mouth occasionally letting slip a few syllables of snake language.
Beneath his skin, within his chest cavity, a pulsating mass of crimson light flickered more rapidly.
It was as if a vast and nonsensical madness lurked within the shadows behind him, gripping him, pressing upon every resilient nerve, and corrupting every drop of warm bl**d within him.
By the end, the words that came from his mouth had completely transformed into snake language.
Yet Luxianbei understood, choosing not to interrupt but quietly listened on.
…
The candidates for priests in the village, upon hearing the snake language, would occasionally see strange visions, even during the daytime.
Some had seen twisted shadows slithering through dark corners, others had witnessed empty villages traversed by specters carrying bl**d-red lanterns, and some even glimpsed colossal beasts hidden within the endless black mountains.
Within them, something would gradually be born, something that devoured their bodies, its claws scraping together to produce a shivering sound.
In those tormenting years, many would gradually grow thinner, until one day, their bodies would be ripped open by the bl**d-red lanterns, dying silently.
Only a few, barely holding onto their remaining rationality, managed to “luckily” become the village priests, residing in the ancestral hall.
The priests’ work was quite simple; most of the time they remained in a semi-dormant state, communicating with deities, learning knowledge difficult for ordinary people to comprehend in bizarre dreams.
…
Upon hearing this, Luxianbei suddenly recalled a very familiar scene that often caused her insomnia and couldn’t help but interject, “Learning in dreams?”
Meng Raoze hesitated for a moment, but after catching sight of the kitchen kn*fe poised to slice through his neck with even a slight force, he nodded.
“Yes, in dreams, in dreams we meet deities, and upon waking we acquire a lot of incredible knowledge. Some learn a lot, some learn little, and it varies greatly.”
Oh, that’s fine then. In my dreams, I just learn from Du Sixian, it shouldn’t be similar… Luxianbei thought, nodding and signaling Meng Raoze to continue.
…
A very small portion of them would, during their communication with deities, be fortunate enough to leave this place, venture into the outside world, and bring back food.
Most priests, however, would only emerge from the ancestral hall during the beginning of spring and deep autumn to organize the villagers for the biannual sacrificial rites.
The offerings used in these rites were urban legends attracted to the corpse of the Great Serpent God, who had broken into the Bamboo Slips Illusion.
The corpse of a mythological species urban legend, existing for who knows how many years, didn’t repulse those lower-tier legends at all; instead, they found it exuded a sweet aroma reminiscent of honey.
…
“Wait, you use urban legends to offer sacrifices to deities? I thought those legends were your food, not…” Luxianbei started but hesitated.
She had deeply felt the side effects of devouring the core of urban legends.
According to the records in The Book of Siye, excessive consumption of the core of urban legends would affect even a fully formed mythological species, influencing them with the memories and emotions contained within the cores.
How many years has that Bamboo Slips existed? A thousand? Two thousand? Or even longer!
During this time, had the villagers here been offering urban legends to their deities? Isn’t that courting d*ath? Luxianbei thought. Perhaps that mythological species had already gone insane!
Such thoughts filled her with terror; if there were any remnants of rationality left in the mythological species, perhaps there could be “talk therapy.” But a completely mad mythological species would likely launch an all-out assault the moment they came into contact.
“Those monsters are indeed our primary source of food.” Meng Raoze replied in snake language, “But only dead monsters are a blessing; the living ones are all offerings to the deities.”
“According to the village records, after our ancestors imprisoned the deities, by the fifth year, the land could no longer yield crops. By the tenth year, the mountains’ wildlife was completely consumed.”
“By the thirteenth year, only a vat of pickled vegetables remained among seven villages, and that vat sparked a large-scale conflict, then…”
At this point, Meng Raoze broke into a grin, the peculiar curve of his mouth reminiscent of a serpent opening its jaws.
“… then, the villagers found food again and managed to survive for many more years.”
When Luxianbei heard this, it felt as if something were churning forcefully in her stomach, causing spasms she couldn’t control.
Although it sounded somewhat ridiculous that a conflict on the scale of a massacre was triggered over a vat of old pickled vegetables, she had carefully observed the surroundings when she first arrived, clearly remembering that there were only three or four villages nearby.
Yet Meng Raoze spoke of seven villages that once existed and mentioned that food came after the conflict, which subtly echoed the notion of “cannibalism.”
Luxianbei rubbed her stomach, barely suppressing her discomfort, and casually asked, “You just said it was the main source; are there others?”
“…”
Meng Raoze did not answer Luxianbei’s question; he fell silent, stiffly rotating his head towards the main hall’s entrance, his deep gaze seemingly penetrating through the door to see those large water jars in the courtyard.
Luxianbei followed his gaze to the courtyard but quickly withdrew her sight, tilting her head and asking, “What about the things in those jars? What are they?”
“Those are… children too deformed to survive.”
Meng Raoze replied in a chilling tone, and Luxianbei felt a wave of cold sh**t up her spine.
Absolutely! These people really do eat anything? They’ve gone mad, this cursed place, not only the deity has gone mad, but the villagers have gone mad as well.
“I really admire your customs here. Had I known you lived such a hard life, I would have brought some golden needle mushrooms when I came, taught you how to exploit a bug, and you would have perfectly solved the food problem.”
Upon hearing a solution for the food issue, Meng Raoze’s expression brightened, his gaze fixated on Luxianbei, urgently asking, “Golden needle mushrooms? What are those?”
Luxianbei hadn’t anticipated that her offhand comments would provoke such a strong reaction; feeling awkward, she replied, “This… you wouldn’t want to know, it’s quite disgusting.”
Immediately, she recalled that compared to what the villagers here ate, it didn’t seem that disgusting?
Forget it, it’s better not to give them false hope.
Thinking this, Luxianbei decided not to linger on the topic of food with Meng Raoze any longer.
In her view, having understood the general background of this village, it was time to directly pursue the specifics of the wondrous knowledge the mysterious girl had mentioned.
“Alright, one last question. You said you learned a lot in your dreams; can you share that knowledge with me?”
As soon as her words fell, Meng Raoze’s body suddenly convulsed violently as if he had seen something extremely terrifying, his pupils flickering wildly, and then he began to scream hoarsely.
“No, no! I didn’t tell her, I didn’t…”
Initially, his shouts were in human language, but soon, they turned bizarre, each sound twisted and strange, laced with undeniable malice.
His body seemed to be crushed by some terrifying force, distorting and curling up. His expression was a mix of wild laughter and despair, excitement and depression.
Seemingly sensing something, Luxianbei’s eyes began to burn intensely.
In a daze, she saw the grotesque and jagged silhouettes, like a dark river, surging through the pitch-black ancient mountains, countless soldiers carrying bl**d-red lanterns, clad in ancient armor and wielding rusty blades, crawling over its form like ants, continually attacking…
“Knock knock knock—knock knock knock—!”
Just as the scene before Luxianbei became clearer, a rapid knocking at the door jolted her back to reality.
She looked at Meng Raoze, who lay sprawled on the ground, large purple bruises having appeared on his body at some point, resembling the tight coil of a python.
“Who is it?” Luxianbei asked tentatively.
Meng Raoze remained silent for a few seconds, barely managing to say, “Hui Mother, it’s Hui Mother. They’ve come to collect the offerings…”
