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墨書 Inktalez
Urahesa was about to continue speaking when the Old Witch could no longer contain herself. She pulled out a rough little bottle from her waist, filled with a thick, dark liquid. She began to sprinkle this strange substance around the vehicle, the liquid emitting a foul odor reminiscent of damp earth and decaying leaves. As she moved, she occasionally spat on the ground, muttering incantations under her breath, as if performing some ancient and mysterious ritual.
The Old Witch's expression was extremely serious, her eyes wide open as if she were exerting all her strength to drive away invisible dark forces. Her movements were quick and filled with tension, as if time were running out. Urahesa stood nearby, his face grim, his gaze reflecting a sense of helplessness and anxiety, as if he felt powerless against it all.
However, a few mercenaries standing not far away found the scene amusing. They couldn't help but snicker at the Old Witch's earnest demeanor. Most of these mercenaries had been through countless battles, and to them, the actions of the Indigenous people seemed utterly absurd. Dark forces? Curses? To them, these were nothing more than foolish superstitions.
One mercenary whispered to his companion, "Look at her; does she really think she can drive away some 'dark force'? These Indigenous rituals are just self-comforting nonsense."
Another mercenary covered his mouth, struggling to suppress his laughter. "Yeah, do those bottles and jars really stand a chance against any Worm monsters? I don't buy it."
Their whispers and muffled laughter hung in the air like an unwelcome echo. Clearly, these mercenaries did not believe in the Old Witch's actions, viewing them as nothing but ancient superstitions that had no bearing on real dangers.
Isabella heard the mercenaries' laughter but felt no relief in her heart. On the contrary, she remained tense inside. Although she didn't fully understand the Old Witch's actions, the seriousness and anxiety on Urahesa's and the Old Witch's faces made it impossible for her to dismiss their significance entirely. She felt trapped in a situation beyond her control, and regardless of whether these rituals were effective or not, they indicated one thing— the threat they faced was far more terrifying than the superstitions mocked by those mercenaries.
Urahesa's expression grew even graver as he approached Isabella, his eyes filled with deep determination and warning. His tone was low and serious, as if every word carried an irresistible weight: "Wait for the Shaman to check everyone. The darkness of the Black Rope God is insidious; discovering it early can prevent tragedy."
Hearing this, Isabella furrowed her brow in concern; she felt uneasy yet still couldn't grasp its meaning. She asked in confusion, "What exactly… is going to happen? What kind of danger are we facing?"
Urahesa's expression turned even more severe as he fixed his gaze firmly on Isabella, as if trying to ensure she understood the gravity of the situation. He spoke heavily: "When darkness enters a person's body, it acts like poison, gradually eroding your brain and corroding your mind. At first, you may only feel slight abnormalities—nightmares, headaches, even hallucinations. As time passes, your thoughts will become chaotic; fears and violent impulses will consume your mind until you completely lose your sanity and become a dark puppet of the Black Rope God."
Urahesa's tone was filled with warning and sorrow as he clenched his fists tightly, seemingly suppressing his inner rage: "This is the punishment for disrespect. Those Worms and The Curse of the Black Rope are not just creatures; they are an evil force. They will invade your flesh and blood, control your thoughts, turning you into an unconscious tool serving the malevolence of the Black Rope Deity."
As Isabella listened to these words, a chilling dread spread through her body. She had never heard such terrifying descriptions before; this internal erosion and destruction surpassed any danger she could comprehend. She couldn't help but recall the image of those Worms writhing on that corpse, a deep fear suddenly rising within her.
"This... is this real, or..." Isabella's voice trembled slightly as she tried to maintain her composure, but the unease within her surged like a tidal wave.
Urahesa's gaze remained stern and unyielding. "This is the reality you must face. Whether you believe it or not, the dark power of the Black Rope God is real, and those Worms are merely a part of it. If you do not check and guard against it soon, darkness will take root among you, ultimately bringing about an irreparable disaster."
Isabella felt a chill sweep through her limbs. She knew that this mission had far exceeded the realms of science and reason. They were up against an ancient and mysterious force, a dark curse that could not be underestimated. The tribal leader before her, regardless of the truth of his words, was warning her and her team with an absolute conviction.
Jonas stood frozen in place, Urahesa's heavy warning echoing in his mind. He felt an invisible pressure enveloping the entire team, as if a nameless danger permeated the air. Suddenly, he sensed something crawling lightly past him from behind, a cold and slimy sensation that sent a shiver down his spine.
Instinctively, Jonas reached behind him, trying to grasp whatever was unsettling him. However, when his fingers brushed against his back, he found nothing—only a slight coolness on his skin and the tension in his muscles from anxiety. His heartbeat quickened, doubt and fear flashing in his eyes.
As he furrowed his brow in contemplation of this strange feeling, Raymond approached from the side. Noticing Jonas's unusual behavior, he offered a relaxed smile. He patted Jonas on the shoulder and said with a chuckle, "Buddy... you're too tense. In places like this, with such damp and harsh conditions, it’s probably just some kind of parasite or maybe the effects of local drugs or stimulants—nothing to get worked up about."
Raymond's tone carried a dismissive confidence, as if he regarded what was happening as trivial. To him, this was just another ordinary exploration mission; even after hearing Urahesa's warning, he still believed it was merely indigenous superstition and panic. "It's the twenty-second century, man; don't let these silly things scare you."
Raymond's words seemed to have a relieving effect; his relaxed demeanor suggested that everything was under control, completely dismissing any notion of curses or dark powers. His laughter echoed oddly in the night sky, starkly contrasting with the serious atmosphere surrounding them.
However, Jonas could not fully shake off his unease. The strange sensation at his back lingered in his mind; Urahesa's grave warning and the Old Witch's mysterious rituals stirred an unshakeable anxiety within him. Although Raymond's lighthearted attitude somewhat eased his tension, he still sensed an indescribable threat drawing near.
Jonas forced a smile, attempting to conceal his doubts, but that feeling of unease clung to him like a shadow.
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