Chapter 57: Whip Maiden
2014-11-28
Author: Floating Tower
A vast grassland. Under the dark night, a pack of wolves began to stir, and other nocturnal creatures emerged. In the distance, ghostly flames flickered; these were spirits awakened by necromantic energy. Surrounding a valley, more than a dozen ghostly flames floated in the air. A brutal battle had once occurred here, and even today, weathered bones and broken swords were still visible. The ghostly flames wandered around unconsciously; this was a forbidden zone for the living, a place even fierce ogres would avoid.
A wizard draped in a black cloak gradually approached, two venomous spiders had already turned to rotten flesh.
These spiders stimulated by magic could only exist for half a day; they aged very quickly. When the power of the spell was exhausted, they died. The wizard leaned down to retrieve the spiders’ venom sacs, pouring some powder over them. It soon turned into a pool of blood. He took out a dark red stone and then entered the valley surrounded by ghostly flames. The wandering undead ignored his presence, allowing him to enter.
The valley was overgrown with weeds and many ruined buildings had severely weathered.
Yet, one could still faintly see the former grandeur. Large marble columns, with a diameter of one meter, were scattered everywhere. These broken columns supported a palace that eventually turned to ruins in battle. Shadows emerged, transforming into bodiless, blurry figures that surrounded the daring entrant, the wizard. “sua…aig…”
The wizard chanted strange syllables; they were not any known language, but rather a kind of special secret tongue.
Some powerful and knowledgeable beings create their own languages and scripts. If they do not impart them to others, it takes immense effort for others to understand their meanings. The clusters of shadow life began to retreat, moving under the stone pillars, gradually disappearing from view. Faint cracks were visible, as if some humanoid beings had been bound to the columns and burned, leaving traces of ash.
At the center of the valley stood an altar several meters in diameter.
The circular interior was cracked, with strange plants stubbornly growing from the fissures. The altar bore intertwined engravings, while nearby marble columns were shattered, and many marks from violent explosions remained. The only still somewhat intact feature of the altar was a severely weathered statue, its features now indistinct. It was vaguely recognized as female; one arm had broken off, but the body retained female characteristics, such as long hair reaching the hips, imperfect yet distinctly shaped breasts, and long, straight legs, along with marks that seemed like serpents coiling around it. The wizard gently pulled off the cloak, revealing pointed ears and dark skin, a slender figure kneeling before the altar.
With the cloak removed, the wizard revealed her true identity.
She was a female dark elf.
She uttered strange prayers, her hands crossed over her chest. As her prayer echoed, eerie lights began to materialize in the air.
In her scarlet pupils, a spark of light gleamed as the wizard slowly stood up.
She gently raised her hand to remove her robe, exposing her lithe body clad in thin clothing, revealing she wore nothing underneath, with only a slight protrusion at her chest. But this was just the beginning; she conjured a dark red snakehead whip out of thin air and, with a sharp motion, lashed it against her own back!
An oppressive cry rang out.
The wizard’s clothes instantly shredded, and clear blood marks appeared on her back. The whip’s sharp barbs torn through her skin, and streams of blood flowed down her back, quickly soaking her clothes and dripping onto the altar.
She trembled.
The wizard’s body shuddered in place; pain twisted her expression. Only beings from the underworld could understand how excruciating it was to be whipped by the snakehead whip!
She gasped.
The wizard knelt on the ground, gasping for a long time before slightly recovering.
Crack!
The clear sound of the whip cutting through the air echoed again, the wizard swung the snakehead whip once more, striking her own back.
Another blood mark appeared.
The bloody whip landed on the ground, and the wizard trembled all over, with two bloody whip marks crisscrossing on her back, the whipped areas mangled. As the pain seeped deeper into her bones, an inexplicable comfort surfaced on the wizard’s twisted face. A hint of pleasure appeared in her expression, and as her strength gradually returned, she did not hesitate to pick up the snakehead whip and lash it against her back again.
Crack, crack, crack!
The continuous sounds of whipping echoed. Her back had become utterly bloodied and mangled, with no intact skin visible.
Yet her expression grew increasingly strange, eventually trembling as if she were experiencing pleasure. As droplets of blood fell onto the altar, a faint pink glow began to emerge. The blood flowed through the engravings towards the broken statue at the center of the altar, the pink light enveloped the area, finally coalescing into a hazy figure.
It was a girl holding a snakehead whip, with a lithe and curvy body, her skin pale gray adorned with dark red tattoos. Her long black hair flowed down to her hips, and the illusory forms of two snakes coiled up her legs, ultimately intertwining at her slender waist to form a belt.
A spark of divinity emerged!
The girl’s figure manifested from the statue as she abruptly raised the snakehead whip, instantly lashing it down onto the wizard!
An oppressive sound echoed.
The wizard’s bloodied back began to heal rapidly, the torn flesh regenerating visibly. At the same time, she let out a sound filled with joy, deeply kneeling on the ground.
“Go north!”
A voice filled with divinity echoed over the altar; the girl pointed with the snakehead whip, conjuring many images out of thin air. “The realm of the Snow Goddess. I can feel she has awakened; the bitter winter is covering the land.”
“Her power is starting to lose control.”
“Find her.”
“Bring her before me, and I will bestow upon you the reward you deserve!”
Accompanied by a hint of divine light, the girl’s figure gradually faded before the statue. The wizard slowly stood up, reaching for her robe to put it back on, then redraped her cloak. A faint glow emanated from her scarlet pupils as she collected the snakehead whip from the ground, turning to leave the valley. The hazy shadows still lingered, revealing faint outlines under the moonlight.
…
Ahead, the sound of rushing water could be heard.
Soren sheathed the curved blade he had been wielding through thorns and entered a small creek to rest.
He first washed his face, then wiped away the blood on his body, not only for the sake of cleanliness but more importantly because many creatures in the wild were very sensitive to the scent of blood.
Suddenly!
He felt all the hairs on his body stand on end, rolling to grab his blade, simultaneously looking towards the stone above the creek.
A dark figure watched, its light brown pupils very distinct in the darkness.
A black panther?
Soren realized the source of the danger that had suddenly appeared; it was a feline that resembled a cheetah, gracefully perched on a rock, its gaze seemingly human, staring at him.
“No!” Soren tightened his grip on the blade, cautiously glancing around and quietly muttering, “A bobcat?”
It was not a black panther.
Instead, it was a completely black bobcat, also a highly dangerous creature in the wild; an adult bobcat could even hunt wild boars.
However, normally, bobcats would not grow to the size of a panther. The one before him was clearly not an ordinary beast; it might not even be a beast at all.
A nimble figure landed on the opposite side of the creek. She wore unusual clothing, her face coated with paint, and in the night, her appearance was hard to discern, only revealing slightly pointed ears, suggesting she was also a half-elf. The suddenly appearing half-elf female bent down to scoop some creek water to drink, then frowned as she glanced at Soren. She waved at the bobcat above the creek, then leapt abruptly to settle on a large tree more than ten meters away.
The bobcat’s agile figure followed, casting one last glance at Soren before disappearing.
“High-level druid?!”
Soren kept watching as they departed, both parties lacking any interaction, only capable of deducing that their direction aligned perfectly with his route.
