Chapter 417: Eve of the Ritual |
Lu Li and Xu Yao emerged from their tent, their eyes immediately drawn to the two distinctly different shadows stretching from Qi Si’s feet.
After a moment's observation, Xu Yao clicked her tongue in wonder. "Qi Si, have you tangled with a shadow ghost? But I can't sense any other spectral presences around."
"A shadow ghost?" Qi Si raised an eyebrow.
Lu Li explained, "Shadow ghosts are creatures from ancient folklore. They mimic a person's shadow, slowly devouring the original until they can take the owner's place."
Having finished his scholarly explanation, he then dismissed the idea. "That said, I don't think your situation is necessarily caused by a ghost. It might have something to do with your identity cards. If I recall correctly, you have more than one."
"Is that so? Perhaps," Qi Si said with a faint smile, his gaze shifting away from the ground. "I suddenly have the urge to head back to the inn and see how Fu Jue and his team are doing."
Lu Li chuckled. "It's too late for that. They've likely already started their ascent."
Listening to their enigmatic exchange, Lin Chen suddenly remembered that he, too, had two identity cards, yet he hadn't experienced any strange phenomena. He instinctively opened his mouth to ask...
But he caught himself. Strictly speaking, Lu Li wasn't on their side; in fact, he was closer to Fu Jue. It was best to keep the fact that he possessed two identity cards a secret.
The matter of the shadows slipped from Lin Chen's mind as he focused on the question. He realized... he hadn't dreamed at all last night.
He'd always been blessed with a vivid imagination, his nights filled with spectacular, fantastical dreams ever since he was a child. He'd dreamt of everything from being chased by monsters to exploring fairy-tale kingdoms, tales that would make his parents laugh when he recounted them.
But last night, lying in his tent—the kind of unfamiliar setting that usually provoked nightmares—he had slept with unprecedented peace. One moment he closed his eyes, and the next, it was morning. He had no recollection of dreaming whatsoever.
"I was just about to bring that up," Lu Li said, turning to Qi Si with a bitter smile. "Last night, I dreamt of everyone who has died because of me over the years. They were in a strange state, somewhere between human and ghost, and all of them were hell-bent on revenge."
"I did too," Xu Yao added, raising her hand. "Back in Double Happiness Town, they were all terrified of me. But in my dream, they weren't scared at all."
Qi Si ignored Xu Yao's comment and directed his question to Lu Li. "Who did you see in your dream?"
Lu Li understood his implication. "I dreamt of everyone who died in the Hopeless Sea instance," he replied quietly. "Xu Ruozi, Bai Yanduan, Hansen, Ye Linsheng... all of them. I never imagined they'd all be here."
Qi Si nodded, understanding dawning on him. "I didn't dream of a single one of them. It seems the sins connected to their deaths have been assigned to you. For the foreseeable future, they will be the ghosts that haunt you."
"That was my conclusion as well," Lu Li said. "I'm starting to see a pattern here. Everyone bears sin, and on this mountain, our sins manifest as personalized threats. The requirement to atone before ascending must be a way to avoid being hunted by these ghosts.
"Of course," he continued, "since we all carry items that can save our skins, anyone who isn't afraid of being hunted can just force their way up the mountain without atoning first."
He paused, his brow furrowed. "What I don't understand is this: based on everything we know, sin is a resource that fuels the Weird Game and its world. The game encourages players to commit sins, so why would it suddenly start punishing them for their past actions here on the mountain?"
"It's not a punishment," Qi Si countered, shaking his head as a thought took shape. "I think it's more of an intimidation tactic. Some higher power wants us to see the difficulty ahead and retreat. If we become afraid of being consumed by our sins, we'll stop creating new ones. Some might even quit this competition on the Snow Mountain entirely. If that happens, *It* will have a much easier path to victory."
Lu Li considered this for a moment. "That's certainly possible. But we have too few clues to go on. Any theory is just guesswork at this point. We should wait another day, see if our dreams are any different tonight."
As he listened to their discussion, Lin Chen silently sent a telepathic message to Qi Si. "Qi Si, I don't think I had any dreams last night."
Qi Si filed the information away but made no comment.
Lin Chen also possessed two identity cards, yet he had no second shadow and no ghostly dreams. Qi Si doubted it was because Lin Chen had lived a life entirely free of harming others.
"Everyone bears sin" was a fundamental rule of the Weird Game. The core mechanic of this instance was that every player carried the weight of their sins, to a greater or lesser degree, until they achieved atonement through the Scripture of Salvation.
Sin didn't always require direct, malicious intent. Simply being the last one standing in an instance with a fixed survival rate could saddle a player with the guilt of failing to save everyone else.
Proving oneself innocent was difficult, yet there were a thousand reasons to declare someone guilty. Therefore, Lin Chen's dreamless sleep was most likely the result of triggering another of the instance's mechanics: reverting to a child.
People tend to see children as innocent and pure, naturally insulated from sin. Even when they commit acts that defy social norms, they aren't judged as guilty, merely as ignorant.
In the context of this instance, that seemed like a loophole worth exploiting.
"Travelers, the storm is letting up! Let's continue our ascent!" Bai Ma called out. She had produced a small red flag from somewhere and was waving it at the players.
Daylight had broken, leaving no reason to delay. It was time to move on. The tents were packed away and loaded onto the backs of the goats, and the players took out their trekking poles and climbing ropes.
A vast glacier stretched out before them, where a single misstep could send a person plunging into an icy crevasse. The players roped themselves together, tying the climbing lines around their waists for security, and proceeded cautiously, stepping into the footprints Bai Ma left in the snow.
The peak shaped like a reclining woman drew nearer, looming like a great wall at the end of their path. They seemed to be on the mountain's shaded side, and its immense shadow hung over them like a monstrous canopy. Though it was day, the gloom was as deep as twilight.
Acting every bit the tour guide, Bai Ma waved her red flag as she spoke. "When the Mother God fell into her slumber, her body became this great mountain. Her milk became the snowmelt that feeds the rivers, nourishing all life in the world. We are all Her children.
"To show our gratitude for the Mother God's gifts, we perform a grand ritual and offer Her precious sacrifices. You see? The temple where we worship Her is just ahead. The lamas will be there, waiting for travelers."
The players followed Bai Ma around the glacier, and just as she'd promised, a vibrantly colored temple materialized against the vast white expanse. Bright prayer flags fluttered from its wooden roof, and under the eaves, wind chimes of every color clinked and chimed in the breeze, producing a melodious sound.
After a night spent resting in the frozen wilderness, a deep-seated dread of nature's brutal power had settled into everyone's bones. It was the loneliness of being far from civilization, of treading on desperate ground, the feeling that one could perish at any moment, unnoticed, their frozen corpse left behind as a grim landmark.
To finally see a man-made structure, then, brought an unavoidable sense of comfort and relief, even though they knew they were still in an instance, and that this temple had likely appeared only to be filled with ghosts and hidden traps.
"We're outsiders," Lu Li asked Bai Ma. "Are we expected to take part in the ritual for the Mother God?"
Bai Ma smiled. "You may participate or not, as you wish. Of course, if you offer a sacrifice that pleases the Mother God, you might receive Her boon."
"A boon?" Qi Si asked, intrigued. "What kind of boon, exactly? Has anyone ever received it?"
"The boon..." she mused. "It might be a gate to leave this mountain. Or it could be a portion of the Mother God's own power. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the reward."
"And what sort of sacrifices are required?"
"Livestock and people. Anything you can imagine can be offered to the Mother God."
Bai Ma's smile remained fixed. As she spoke the word "people," her gaze locked onto Qi Si, a strange light flickering in her eyes. "The people who died because of you... the sins born from your actions... those are the sacrifices the Mother God desires." Qi Si laughed. "You seem to know exactly what the Mother God wants."
"Of course I do," Bai Ma replied. She turned and pushed open the temple gates. "The Mother God has been waiting for you."
Qi Si darted back, but the expected danger never materialized.
Beyond the gates lay an empty courtyard. There were no statues, no altars—only an enormous, seemingly bottomless pit of ice set into the center.
The four of them stepped into the temple. A skeletal lama, draped in a kasaya, sat with his back to the entrance. "Are you here to make an offering?" he asked.
Lu Li stepped forward. "We are," he said with a smile. "We came to honor the Mother God, but we're unfamiliar with the procedure. Could you tell us what we need to do?"
"Offer the sacrifice, sing the hymn, and the ritual is complete." The lama turned his head, revealing a fleshless skull where maggots writhed. A jawbone stretched into a ghastly grin. "Besides... you've already presented your offerings, haven't you?"
A gut-wrenching *crunch* echoed through the air, followed by the thick stench of blood and rot. Before their eyes, the scene began to transform.
The once-empty pit was suddenly layered with skeletons, thousands of them, all facing upward. Their limbs were twisted at grotesque angles, and the ice walls were scarred with the deep and shallow gouges of their fingernails.
They clawed desperately at the walls, but the ice was too slick. They'd scramble up a few inches only to slide back down, buried beneath the weight of newly appearing corpses.
Though their bodies were rotted to the bone, their faces were perfectly preserved. Qi Si recognized them, one after another: Liu Ajiu, Zou Yan, Yang Yundong...
The skeletons stared up at Qi Si, their jaws clacking open and shut as they repeated the same phrase in a chorus of whispers: "You killed us... It was you..."
Seconds ticked by. The pile of bodies rose past the halfway point of the pit and then, finally, stopped growing.
The lama spread his hands, smiling. "When the pit is filled with bones, your ritual will be complete. The Mother God will bless you."
Lin Chen had been frozen in place since the temple doors opened, his eyes locked on the hellish tableau. Countless bodies lay piled in the pit, their eyes burning with venomous resentment, a clear testament to their violent ends.
What was most terrifying, however, was that Qi Si, Lu Li, and Xu Yao regarded the horrific scene with utter indifference, as if they were long accustomed to death and brutal murder.
The lama's words, the cries of the dead, his companions' placid acceptance... every clue pointed toward a possibility he refused to believe.
"Qi Si... these bodies..." Lin Chen asked, his voice wavering. His Soul Leaf trembled faintly.
He watched as the young man turned to him, the corners of his lips curving into a faint, chilling smile. "That's right," Qi Si said. "I killed them."
...
Meanwhile, by the time Zhou Ke returned to his tent, Lin Jue and Dong Xiwen had already been waiting at the campsite for a while.
The sky was still pitch-black when Zha Xi suddenly roused the yaks. He gestured to the players. "Everyone is here. We can leave now."
Dong Xiwen's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you serious? It's still pitch-black out! We can't see the path. One wrong step and we're dead!"
Zha Xi shot him a look, then silently began to lead the yaks deeper into the mountains. His meaning was clear: keep up, or be left behind to die.
"Hey!" Alexei shouted, annoyed. "What kind of attitude is that? We're your employers, remember?"
Chu Yining sighed and patted the back of his hand. "Calm down. This is probably one of the instance's rules. The NPC has no choice but to obey. It's best not to cause trouble out here."
Swallowing their anger, the group adjusted their gear and followed Zha Xi. The herd of yaks moved silently, leaving a trail of prints in the snow. The players followed suit, holding their breath as they pressed on through the blizzard, terrified of disturbing the ancient gods of this land.
Zhang Yiyu lagged at the rear of the column, right behind the man she suspected was her father, Zhang Hongbin. As she watched the long line of figures ahead blur into the snowstorm, a strange and profound sadness washed over her.
Judging by the outcome, Zhang Hongbin was fated to remain in this instance forever. History couldn't be changed without creating a paradox. But what about her? Would she live?
The Weird Game was truly cruel. It had already claimed her father's life, and now it had chosen her, inflicting the same tragedy upon two generations of her family...
"You look awfully pale, young lady. Are you alright?" Zhang Hongbin asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm... fine," Zhang Yiyu said, pulling her thoughts together. "I was just thinking... wondering if we'll actually be able to clear this instance and make it out alive."
"Now that we're in here, there's no use worrying about that. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Zhang Hongbin said cheerfully. He pointed toward Lin Jue at the head of the line. "Besides, you have nothing to fear. Our Guild Leader Lin has cleared over a thousand instances without a single failure."
*That's a pointless thing to say,* Zhang Yiyu thought with a click of her tongue. "He's only here because he's never failed before. Isn't that true for all of us? If we'd failed any of our past instances, we wouldn't be standing here right now."
"It's not the same," Zhang Hongbin said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Someone read the Guild Leader's fortune. They said he's the one most likely to clear the Final Instance."
*That fortune-teller must have been a fraud,* Zhang Yiyu scoffed internally. She didn't have the heart to tell Zhang Hongbin that in the year 2035, a memorial portrait of Lin Jue hung in the great hall of the Weird Investigation Bureau.
As if reading her mind, Zhang Hongbin added, "Don't be so quick to dismiss it, young lady. I'll let you in on a little secret: the one who read his fortune was the holder of the Doomsday Prophet identity card. And they are *never* wrong."
"Haha, is that right?" Zhang Yiyu forced a laugh, covering her face with her hand.
If she recalled correctly, the Doomsday Prophet card belonged to Xiao Fengchao. And from what she knew of the future, that guy could barely save himself, let alone anyone else...
It seemed their team had collected a few too many death flags. They were probably all going to die...
"Something's not right." The column ahead suddenly halted. Lin Jue's brow furrowed as he turned to scan the group. "Has anyone else noticed how long this night has been? It should be dawn by now.
"And what's more," he added, "we've been walking toward that peak, but it seems to be getting farther away, not closer..."
Everyone looked up. He was right. The peak that had just been looming over them now sat on the distant horizon, appearing so small it barely rose above the heads of the yaks.
A vast, empty snowfield stretched out before and behind them. It no longer felt as if they were on a mountain, but trapped in an alternate dimension of ice and snow, completely cut off from the world of the living.