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墨書 Inktalez
Human Sacrifice
The head of Huzi hung from the tree, beneath it lay his bound corpse.
I was so frightened that I couldn't speak for a moment, and the sharp stone in my hand fell to the ground.
In that instant, my mind buzzed as if I could hear the sound of electricity piercing through my eardrums. Why would someone kill Huzi, and in such a cruel manner, leaving him in this state?
Suddenly, I recalled a time long ago when we went bird-nesting together. He had accidentally poked my eye with a branch he was holding, and I had cursed at him, telling him to get lost.
Huzi had apologized while crying, and even when I punched him a couple of times, he didn't retaliate. Later on, I realized that I was just too stubborn; I never apologized to anyone.
When I left the mountains, time taught me that I was not the protagonist of this place, not even a supporting character. It was during my first job serving plates at a bar near school that I accidentally broke a glass of Champagne. That was when I attempted to apologize to someone for the first time.
But others called me blind, and my slight display of dissatisfaction almost sparked a collective backlash. I still remember the arrogant face of the leader who pointed at me and said, "Someone like you, born lowly, shouldn't have any temper. You probably can't even afford to pay for this glass of wine. Get out of my sight!"
Not only that, but I was also summoned to the manager's office for a scolding. He asked why I had offended a customer. I explained that it wasn't intentional and that I had already apologized.
The manager shouted at me while pointing at the broken glass in the wooden tray, "How much is your apology worth? Do you know this glass of Champagne costs over 800? You wouldn't even earn enough in a week to pay for it!"
From that moment on, I realized that the self-esteem I had always clung to meant nothing in others' eyes; it was worthless. And when my best friend was hurt by me, I couldn't even muster an apology.
People often take things for granted while they have them and only regret when they are lost.
I stared blankly at Huzi's head hanging from the tree, my hands trembling uncontrollably. His eyelids drooped as he half-opened his eyes to look at me. I remembered how after cursing his grandfather outside Old Man's house, I had gone home without looking back, seeing his shadow stretching down to my feet as he wiped away tears.
Although Huzi didn't play with peers in the village, he wasn't an introverted person. His family was among the wealthiest in the village; he smoked good cigarettes and would often share them with uncles and older men around. Whenever someone needed help carrying something, he would readily lend a hand.
Who could be so cruel as to kill him like this? And to use his phone to text me, luring me here to witness his death firsthand.
The bushes behind me rustled, and Li Fugui followed the trail, holding a black iron spear. When he saw Huzi's dismembered body, the usually cold and powerful Li Fugui became frantic. He called out Huzi's name, his voice trembling with tears.
"Huzi, hang on! Grandpa will save you!"
Li Fugui rushed forward and lifted Huzi's head from the branch. In a panic, he placed Huzi's head back on his severed neck and then reached for his heart.
"There’s still hope! There’s still hope!" Li Fugui shouted, rolling up his sleeve. He pulled out a black steel needle from behind him and suddenly slashed it across his arm, blood gushing forth.
I then noticed that earlier at Guo the Blind's house, when Guo the Blind had spat blood onto Li Fugui's arm, half of it had turned black. But now, his arm was smooth as if it had never been injured.
Blood flowed freely from Li Fugui's palm as he clenched his fist, letting droplets fall between Huzi's head and neck.
I had never seen anything so incredible; Huzi's severed neck actually began to heal slowly. I could even hear the sound of broken bones reconnecting.
Meanwhile, the wound on Li Fugui's arm healed at a visible speed, leaving only faint traces behind.
Li Fugui once again used the steel needle to cut open his arm. His veins bulged, and his forehead was lined with veins as well. His face twisted in agony as he repeated, "There’s still hope! There must be hope!"
I stood beside Huzi's body, watching as his head and neck slowly fused together. Li Fugui continued to slash his own arm repeatedly. His complexion grew pale; what had been grayish-white hair turned white in an instant, making him look a full decade older.
As Li Fugui’s cut arm healed once more, Huzi's neck was completely restored. The surface of his skin bore faint red marks, but his face remained pale without a hint of color; his eyelids drooped sadly, looking despondent.
Revival has always been a taboo among the Daoist Sect. The Taoist Scriptures mention that some elderly individuals hold onto their last breath in their abdomen before dying. If any Daoist practitioner cultivates longevity elixirs or finds rare ancient herbs that are seldom seen in a millennium, they might restore life to the dying and reverse fate.
Among those who were killed, there were reports of a Daoist Grandmaster who could use his lifelong cultivation to perform the reincarnation technique, restoring the bodies of those whose heart meridians were severed or whose organs were damaged, pulling them back from the Ghost Gate.
The only ones who could not be resurrected were those who were dismembered, especially those whose heads had been severed. It was impossible for them to come back to life; this was not some taboo or rule, but common knowledge.
Li Fugui demonstrated his extraordinary abilities before me. His blood possessed a healing power millions of times stronger than that of an ordinary person. Before Huzi's blood had even begun to coagulate, he managed to regenerate his severed head, but Huzi was left with nothing more than a complete corpse.
Guo Huaiyi, skilled in dark arts, would have to wait thirty years to resurrect, enduring countless hardships and becoming neither human nor ghost, yet his body remained intact.
How could Huzi, whose body was separated from his head, possibly come back to life?
“Huzi.” I called out his name softly.
Li Fugui's expression was frenzied. He raised his head to look at me, gritting his teeth as he said, “You killed my grandson! You killed him!”
Li Fugui pulled up the iron spear from the ground and approached me. I stumbled backward, feeling an overwhelming intent to kill emanating from him. I said, “How could I kill Huzi? He is my brother.”
But Li Fugui did not listen at all; he continued to close in on me step by step. My body turned cold as if frozen. In the distance, at the entrance of the desolate land, my mother rushed toward me through the night. When she saw Li Fugui raising the iron spear to kill me, she screamed, “No! Don’t kill my son!”
Yet Li Fugui seemed like a madman and did not hear her. Suddenly, he thrust the iron spear into my chest. I felt the sound of the spear piercing through my ribs and emerging from my back.
I grasped the spear that had impaled me; pain surged through my body, making me wish for death.
“Yang Hao!” My mother was terrified; her voice trembled as she ran toward me. But after just a few steps, she seemed to see something horrifying and stopped in her tracks, retreating.
A smile appeared on her face as she said, “Your father Yang Sanqian was right; he didn’t deceive me. In Futu Ridge, no one can take your life.”
I did not understand what my mother meant, but I saw the blood oozing from my chest begin to coagulate, wisps of black smoke drifting out from the wound.
On my skin, spots began to appear, floating out and gradually transforming into ancient characters.
These ancient characters, radiating a black glow, surrounded me, forming circles of light.
Li Fugui's eyes widened in horror as he stepped back. He watched as my eyes shifted from a mix of black and white to pure black, until not a trace of white remained.
From above, I appeared as a dark spot on the desolate land of Futu Ridge under the moonlight.
Boom!
A sound that was not particularly loud reverberated through the skies of Futu Ridge, emanating from me and shaking outward. In an instant, all the grass, trees, and stones were flattened. My entire body was enveloped in Black Script, resembling a demon emerging from hell in the darkness.
Li Fugui managed to shield Huzi's body from the black wave just in time. Meanwhile, the iron spear that had pierced my wound transformed into a stream of black light and shot through Li Fugui's heart, embedding itself into the cliff behind him with a buzzing resonance.
Li Fugui knelt on the ground, placing Huzi beside him. He coughed up blood as the gaping hole in his chest healed at a visible rate.
"Yang Sanqian actually left something like this inside you," Li Fugui said fiercely. He stood up from the ground, his muscles rippling as his torn clothes hung off him.
Like a fierce tiger, Li Fugui charged at me. I flicked my fingers slightly; despite the ten-meter distance between us, Li Fugui suddenly flew backward and crashed into the rock wall behind him with a loud thud.
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