pertwk Chapter 245: Name Change Needed!!
Chapter 245: Name Change Needed!!
Chapter 245 Name Change Needed!! (4200)
As he finished speaking, the copper coin on the back of the short sword rang out with a sharp clang, emitting a thin beam of golden-red light.
The light was neither fire nor thunder, but rather like the first rays of dawn on a winter snowy surface—extremely fine, yet perfectly pure.
The golden-red light fell directly onto the southeast altar.
When the old jar bricks were exposed to this light, the engraved symbols on their surface began to turn white, as if they were being steamed up by the heat.
The host finally couldn't sit still any longer.
It suddenly stood up, and the pair of thin hands under the coffin pressed down, causing the entire coffin to tremble.
The ashes, cinnabar, and incense residue around the coffin lid all instantly rose upwards.
A tremendous force of darkness rose from the bottom of the coffin, as if trying to forcefully suppress Lu Yuan's light.
"It needs to be placed at the center of the jar!"
Lin Zhaoxuan shouted.
"bar!"
Lu Yuan shouted sharply, "Don't let it hit the brick!"
Zhou Heng and Lin Zhaoxuan made their moves almost simultaneously.
Zhou Heng used his sword to strike diagonally, slashing three strands of black lines that shot out from his sleeve. With a flourish of his sword, he sealed off half a foot in front of the coffin.
Lin Zhaoxuan then held the Thunder Token upright in front of his chest and chanted rapidly, "Thunder in the sky, fire on the ground; heavenly fire will not fall into the corpse."
"I will use thunder as a lock to seal away your sinister aura."
"Lock you to the left, lock you to the right, lock you in front, lock you behind, block all four directions, and impenetrable to all evil!!"
"Imperial Edict!"
With a jolt of thunder, the blue and white thunder patterns transformed into four thin lines, which pierced the four corners of the coffin.
After four soft "crackling" sounds, the coffin was indeed nailed down slightly, and its upward momentum came to an abrupt halt.
Song Qinghe didn't dare to be negligent either. He lifted the sealing disc upwards with both hands, and the yin-yang fish in the center of the disc rotated three times. The cold light pressed down on the old altar brick.
"Fellow Daoist Lu!"
Her voice trembled: "I can't hold on much longer!"
Lu Yuan hissed, "Enough!"
Lu Yuan knew that now was the most crucial moment to "turn the tide".
Then, he once again pulled out the "Ancestral Seal" with his left hand, and with the short knife in his right hand pressed against his palm, the incantation he was chanting suddenly slowed down.
It became deep, steady, and drawn-out, like the resounding incantation uttered when opening the gates of an old temple in the Northeast: "The ancestors are on the altar, the fire is under the lamp!!"
"If the altar is upright, the fire will naturally shine!"
"If the altar is evil, fire will turn against it!!"
"I now borrow the ancestral fire to illuminate the bones of the old altar!"
"They turn the tables on the jar, but not the people; they only turn the shadows of the people they've wronged!"
"If the shadow will retreat, life will be saved!!"
"Ancestral Fire, rise!"
He didn't shout the last word, but rather let it out slowly, as if from a deep breath.
In that instant, a very clear "ringing" sound came from the scabbard of the short sword.
It was like an iron nail that had been dormant for many years, finally being pushed open by this ancestral fire.
Immediately afterwards, very faint golden-red lines appeared on Lu Yuan's waist, shoulders, back, and between his eyebrows.
It's like the "protective fire mark" that only people who have received altar rituals in the old days would have.
Upon seeing the three golden-red dots, the host's expression shifted to one of near shock and anger for the first time.
"You're actually... someone who's been influenced by Lao Tan?"
It lost its voice.
Lu Yuan's gaze turned cold. He didn't answer, but instead slammed the scabbard onto the ground.
"boom!"
The old brick at the southeast altar bone opening was finally turned upside down by the ancestral fire.
There was no corpse or treasure beneath the bricks, only an extremely deep and dark altar.
Inside the altar, countless tiny copper nails, paper tags, red ropes, and ash bone talismans were densely packed together, along with several blackened infant skull pendants.
As soon as the altar was revealed, the shadow behind the master seemed to be ripped in half.
Lu Yuan's eyes suddenly turned cold, and he said in a low voice, "I see."
"It didn't become evil from a single coffin; it was nurtured by this altar."
"This altar is its root!"
Upon seeing this, Song Qinghe couldn't help but gasp, her voice changing: "Those—those are talismans?"
Lu Yuan's voice was as cold as frost: "It's a talisman."
"But it's not for suppressing evil spirits, it's for suppressing souls."
"These nails, tacks, ropes, and bones are all used to suppress the souls of those whose names have been called."
"It borrows the old altar, suppresses the old soul, and nurtures the new seat."
"This isn't a 'borrowing a seat' method, this is—"
He paused, then uttered four words almost one at a time: "Refine the mat into a sacrificial offering."
Upon hearing these four words, even Zhou Heng's expression changed.
According to old folklore outside the Great Wall, if someone were to offer a feast of food, the names of the dead, old altar bones, and incense, they could feed the "seat master" layer by layer.
That is not an ordinary evil spirit, but a "sacred spirit" that has been transformed from a sacrificial altar into a place of worship, which can be worshipped under a false name.
These kinds of things no longer just harm people, but can feed the underworld with offerings made in the human world, and over time, they will become major local evil spirits.
At this moment, the master finally slowly raised his hand, and for the first time stopped looking at Lu Yuan and instead looked down at the altar, as if to confirm whether his roots were still there.
Its voice suddenly took on a strange weariness, like that of someone whose roots had been dug out from under an old bed.
"You've overturned my jar of bones."
It said, "They're trying to force me to expose my roots."
"But what good will it do you even if you dig it out?"
It suddenly chuckled, a soft laugh that sounded like old tiles clattering together in the wind.
"I have become a spirit."
"As long as the altar stands, I am here."
"Even if the altar breaks, I may not die."
"If you want to kill me, you must first kill all the names, lights, shadows, seats, and registers along this entire road."
"But will you make it in time?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a muffled "thump" suddenly came from deep within the urn at the bottom of the coffin.
It felt like something extremely heavy had been tapped from below.
The next instant, the entire stone passage shook simultaneously.
The tremor was not large, but it was extremely deep, as if it came straight up from the depths of the earth.
The salt formations, incense ash, shimmering light, paper banners, and lamplight beneath everyone's feet all shifted slightly in this tremor.
Song Qinghe's face instantly turned deathly pale: "There's something underneath it!"
Lu Yuan's eyes flashed like lightning, and a thought flashed through his mind almost instinctively.
"What lies beneath the altar is none other than the 'Second Altar.'"
There was more than one jar on this stone path.
The upper altar is the surface altar, while the lower one is the real, fundamental "burial altar".
In other words, the master before them was merely a figurehead occupying the upper altar.
Below it lies an even older, deeper, and darker layer of altar roots, which are constantly killing it.
"broken."
Lu Yuan finally whispered, "This time, we've run into a trap."
Upon hearing this, Zhou Heng's brows furrowed deeply: "Double jar buckle?"
Lu Yuan spoke very quickly: "It means the upper seat is used for burial, and the two urns are interlocked."
"Offering altars to people on the upper altar, and nurturing spirits on the lower altar."
"The one on top that looks like the Lord is actually the shadow of the one below, who is being fed from the heart of the altar."
"You add one layer to it, and then you add another layer underneath."
Lin Zhaoxuan gasped, "Then isn't this over yet?"
Lu Yuan's eyes were chillingly cold: "Is this over?"
"Just make sure the opening of the lower altar is also turned upside down."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the host suddenly moved.
It didn't pounce on Lu Yuan, nor did it try to grab Song Qinghe; instead, it suddenly flicked its sleeve.
The black, soul-binding thread that Zhou Heng and Lin Zhaoxuan had been suppressing together suddenly poured out from under his sleeve.
Like a handful of live snakes, it headed straight for the newly opened southeast altar.
"It's going to seal the jar!"
Lu Yuan drank heavily.
Zhou Heng drew his sword immediately, but the black line did not engage him. Instead, it twisted like a snake on the ground and bypassed the sword's edge.
Song Qinghe was so anxious that her wrist trembled, and the disc almost went astray.
"Don't panic."
Lu Yuan said in a low voice, "The more anxious it is, the more it shows that the jar below is afraid of being exposed to light."
He quickly looked up, his gaze sweeping over everyone, his voice low but firm: "Now obey my orders."
"Zhou Heng, cut the end of the paper banner in the northwest."
"Lin Zhaoxuan, stop using the lights and start nailing the altar line."
"Miss Song, look at the center of the jar and find the second ring of sealing mud around the rim of the jar."
"Cheng'an, Erxiao, you two, sprinkle salt at the four corners along the brick I just turned over."
"Remember, the salt should be scattered in a 'well' pattern."
"The well opening faces downwards towards the altar, and the well grid must not be broken."
The two were so frightened that they nodded repeatedly and did as they were told, almost using both hands and feet.
Lu Yuan himself no longer hesitated. He suddenly put the short knife into his bosom, and his ten fingers moved at the same time, forming a series of extremely complicated hand seals.
Press the base of the ring finger with the left thumb, and keep the index and middle fingers vertically together.
With the little finger slightly raised outward, the right hand has the thumb hooked around the middle finger, the index finger bent inward like a hook, and the remaining two fingers hidden in the palm.
It's like holding a tiny, invisible copper bell in your hands.
This is precisely the "Altar-Breaking and Earth-Opening Technique" rarely seen in Taoism.
As Lu Yuan pinched the door, he chanted in a low voice, "The earth has its gates, and the gates have their nails."
"The jar has a clasp, and the clasp has a rib."
"The upper altar can be overturned, and the lower altar can be opened."
"I borrow a ray of ancestral fire to illuminate my altar bones and the roots of my altar."
"If the root of the altar is alive, its entrance will be seen first; if the entrance is three inches wide, the path to the underworld will not exist!"
"Hurry, hurry, as the law commands!"
As he finished speaking, he slammed both hands down onto the ground.
This piece of clay was not lifted outwards or forwards, but rather towards the grayish-white seal around the edge of the altar!
"Sizzle!"
All that was heard was a sharp sound like old skin peeling off, and a small piece of the ash layer on the edge of the altar was actually lifted off by him.
But just as that small piece of mortar was lifted, an even older, heavier, and darker aura suddenly "poofed" up from below.
The moment that aura was released, even the master of the seat was jolted.
For the first time, the bluish-white sparks in its eye sockets twitched wildly.
"Oh no."
Lu Yuan's heart tightened: "That thing down there is awake!"
At that very moment, from the darkness at the end of the stone path, came a very light, very slow, very rhythmic tapping sound.
thump.
thump.
thump.
It's as if someone is underground, knocking on an ever-deeper coffin.
The moment the knocking sound began, the wind along the entire stone path changed.
Previously, it was the kind of cold wind that sucked in when the altar door was about to close, but now it felt like someone had unscrewed an old manhole cover underground.
The yin energy rose layer by layer, carrying the damp, cold smell of mud and the musty scent of incense, slowly spreading along the edge of the altar.
The salt grains on the ground, agitated by the gas, began to tremble slightly, like a swarm of startled white worms.
Lu Yuan's face immediately darkened.
He could tell that this was not the movement of a corpse, nor the crawling of a ghost, nor the ordinary surge of malevolent energy.
It was the one inside the "Second Altar" who was using the knocking sound to find his way.
The most terrifying thing in the old customs of the Northeast is not the sound of ghosts, but the rhythm of ghosts!
The presence of rhythm indicates that it recognizes the altar, understands the rules, and knows when to come out and when to sit down.
"Don't look down into the ground."
Lu Yuan shouted urgently, "That's an eye-catching thing!"
Zhou Heng was about to lower his head to find the source of the sound, but upon hearing this, he immediately turned his gaze back, held his long sword horizontally in front of his chest, and did not move an inch.
Lin Zhaoxuan was even faster. He retracted the Thunder Command and pressed it against the inside of his forearm, making the thunder pattern on his back stick to his flesh, so that the Yin energy could not resonate through the thunder pattern.
But Wang Cheng'an and Xu Erxiao didn't have that kind of willpower.
The two were sprinkling salt into the four corners when they heard the three taps. Their hands trembled, and the salt bag almost fell to the ground.
Seeing this, Lu Yuan said in a deep voice, "Keep your mind steady, and your hands will be steady too."
"Remember this: the most dangerous place for any old altar outside the pass is one where people's hearts are in turmoil."
"When people are in disarray, the altar becomes orderly."
His words were brief, but his hands moved swiftly.
He flipped the short knife in his right hand, with the back of the blade against his left palm, and then gently tapped the spine of the knife three times with the index and middle fingers of his left hand together.
He lowered his voice and recited a very short but very forceful "altar-suppressing incantation": "Sounds arise from a source, and the source is in the earth gate."
"6
"If the door is to be opened, I will first seal my lips."
"Three points form a nail, four directions form a grave."
"I'll nail your knocking tendons to the door and seal your soul from responding."
"Hurry, hurry, as the law commands!"
As he finished speaking, he suddenly stomped his right foot on the ground.
This step wasn't heavy, but it felt like stepping precisely into the rhythmic gaps between the three strikes.
The "thump-thump" sound from underground did indeed pause for a moment, as if the thing was about to continue knocking but was abruptly stopped halfway.
But in that half breath, a faint red line slowly emerged from the damp, cold black mist deep within the altar.
That red was neither blood nor fire, but rather like cinnabar buried in the mud for too long, suddenly forced to surface by yin energy.
Upon seeing the red, Song Qinghe froze completely.
"Fellow Daoist Lu————"
Her voice trembled: "That is—the sealing line of the altar."
Lu Yuan's gaze sharpened: "Indeed, there is a second layer of sealing below."
As he said this, his expression did not relax at all; instead, it became even more somber.
If it's just sealed, that's fine. But if you see a red line inside the jar, it means there's an even older jar underneath.
Not only were people buried, but some people even sealed it up themselves.
There are few people outside the Great Wall who know how to bury and seal, and even fewer who know how to seal two altars with red thread.
That's to suffocate the thing inside, using its death energy to nourish it, waiting for it to speak again one day and become a great evil.
Lin Zhaoxuan's brow twitched as he listened: "Then what's that thing down there, isn't it—"
Lu Yuan interrupted him: "It's more than just things!"
"If I'm not mistaken, he's a hidden talent who's been suppressed for many years."
"It should have died, but someone kept it alive by layering incense, blood, fame, and bones."
"Now that we have opened the outer altar, it is as if we have forced the breath inside to our throats."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the knocking sound from the ground began again.
This time it wasn't three strikes, but one strike after another, as if someone had finally found the rhythm of the altar and started pushing upwards with all their might using their knuckles.
With each thud, the layer of grayish-white sealant around the edge of the altar loosened a little.
The first area to loosen was the southeast corner, where a trace of black water slowly seeped out from under the old brick that Lu Yuan had turned over.
The black water didn't flow downwards; instead, it climbed upwards, as if it had its own veins, seeping along the cracks in the bricks towards the center of the stone path.
"Blackwater!"
Wang Chengan lost his voice.
Lu Yuan's eyes sharpened, and he shouted, "Don't let it touch the salt!"
"That's not water, it's blood and mud from the bottom of the jar!"
Zhou Heng immediately slashed down with his sword, the blade sweeping across and creating a gust of wind that forced the black water to deflect by half an inch.
The black water split into several strands upon impact with the sword energy, emitting a very faint hissing sound, like a thin snake being scorched by hot iron.
However, although the black water was forced to disperse, the knocking from underground did not stop.
On the contrary, it's getting faster and faster.
And the master of the coffin, standing before it, began to slowly close its empty eye sockets.
It wasn't sleeping, nor was it dead; it was more like listening.
It was listening to the echo from the jar below.
With each listen, its black satin robe billowed slightly, as if invisible energy was being poured into its body.
"not good."
Lu Yuan suddenly looked up: "It's using the lower altar to recover its energy!"
Song Qinghe's voice trembled with anxiety: "What should we do?"
Lu Yuan immediately said, "Sever its path to recirculation."
"The one under the jar can nurture it, and it can also withstand it."
"As long as the person below cannot recognize the person above, the connection between them will be lost."
Zhou Heng was taken aback: "How come it doesn't recognize you?"
Lu Yuan's gaze suddenly darkened as he looked at the paper-masked man and said coldly, "Change the name!!"
'