pertwk Chapter 246 The War of the Sacrifices Has Finally Begun
Chapter 246 The War of the Sacrifices Has Finally Begun
Chapter 246 The Battle of the Sacrifices has finally truly begun (5000)
As soon as Lu Yuan uttered the words "we need to change the name," all the lights in the stone path trembled simultaneously.
It wasn't that people were afraid when they heard it, but that evil spirits broke the taboo.
In the old customs of the region beyond the Great Wall, the most important thing about altars, seats, shadows, and lamps is not who sits on them, but who is recorded in the register.
Once the name changes, the path changes.
The moment the number was changed, chaos ensued.
There are no living people left in this place. Even Zhao Deshun, the man holding the thin scepter, is nothing more than a breath of air possessed by evil magic.
Now that the name is to be changed, it's not about changing people's names, but about changing the positions of all these evil spirits on this altar.
Make them admit their mistakes to each other and kill themselves.
Lu Yuan's eyes were as deep as an old well; he knew that the real decisive battle was only just beginning.
"Zhao Deshun, listen to my command."
Lu Yuan lowered his voice to an extremely low level, as if afraid of disturbing something deeper at the bottom of the jar: "You are not human, so you don't need to be afraid of death like humans."
"Since you hold the book, relinquish this false name and exchange it for the altar."
Zhao Deshun's face turned deathly pale, his lips trembling: "Change...change it to whom?"
"Give them the new ones." Lu Yuan raised his hand and pointed to the coffin and the altar: "Whether it's the seat master, the lamp master, or even the embryo in the altar underneath, none of them are the proper names."
"I want you to write 'Nameless Guest' on the blank pages of the book."
Song Qinghe was taken aback: "A guest without a surname?"
Lu Yuan didn't explain much, only quickly saying, "Among the old gatherings and altars, the most feared are those without surnames."
"Those with surnames can recognize their ancestors, those with given names can light lamps, those without surnames are not registered, and those not registered will not receive offerings."
"They rely on their fame to get a living, and on the atmosphere of the banquet to maintain their health."
"Now I'll sever all ties with their 'prestigious families' and see if they can still recognize each other."
As he spoke, he pulled a tightly folded piece of yellow paper from his pocket.
The yellow paper wasn't a talisman; it looked more like a sacrificial scroll copied from a temple in the old days. The edges of the paper were brittle, but in the middle was a line of very fine cinnabar characters that read "Name-Introducing Paper."
Lu Yuan raised his hand and handed the name card to Zhao Deshun, shouting, "Bite your fingertip and press it in the center of the paper."
"Don't write your real last name."
Write "nothing".
"Starting with no words, then adding guests."
"Remember, when you're writing, you can't think about yourself."
"I only care about the light, not my life."
"I only care about the seat, not my body."
"Recite my mantra!"
At this moment, Zhao Deshun was already overwhelmed by Zhou Heng's sword intent, Lin Zhaoxuan's thunder intent, and Song Qinghe's radiant light, so he dared not disobey.
He could only nervously and tremblingly write the character "无" on the yellow paper, and then draw the character "客" next to it.
Lu Yuan immediately pressed his fingers together on the paper and whispered a very short but extremely dangerous "Name-Changing Mantra": "Heaven has no surname, earth has no name, the mountains and fields do not recognize the old family, I will exchange the nameless for your name."
"The feast is over, the lamps are out, people are not recorded, and ghosts do not return to their graves."
"Now, if there are no guests at the door, the front door is called 'scattered,' and the back door is called 'sinking.'"
"Hurry, hurry, as the law commands!"
As the last word was written, the introductory paper suddenly trembled, and the vermilion characters on the paper seemed to come alive, crawling delicately.
It actually turned into the two characters "无客" (Wu Ke), which were extremely difficult to recognize.
"It's done!"
Song Qinghe whispered.
But the next instant, the lantern at the end of the stone path suddenly flickered.
The bluish-gray color on the lamp master's face suddenly became extremely pale, as if a layer of skin had been pulled away from the inside, revealing a deeper, colder emptiness.
He raised the lamp, looked down at the small, curled-up hand inside the lampshade, and slowly straightened the corners of his mouth.
"You're dismantling the light fixtures."
"The lamp master said softly."
Instead of retreating, Lu Yuan advanced, sneering, "I'm going to tear down your lantern."
"Didn't you want us to be seated at the table?"
"Now it's your turn. Take a look at yourself and see what kind of person you are."
The lamp master did not answer, but simply raised the overturning lamp. Suddenly, the flame dipped, turning from bluish-black to a murky gray-white.
Immediately afterwards, all the paper faces on the paper banners on both sides of the stone path began to crack and pop, as if someone inside was pulling the dough down.
Zhou Heng's expression hardened: "It's about to project its image!"
Sure enough, the next instant, the paper figures with vermilion-painted faces deep in the stone passage all trembled.
As if one after another had come to life, the dark, gaping lips slowly opened.
There were no human voices, but a faint, thin, low hum, like fingernails scraping against a wooden coffin lid, came from the mouths of all the shadows simultaneously.
That is "the proper name".
In the world of Fan Lao Tan, the most dangerous thing is not the knife, nor the thunder, but "the shadow that promised for you".
"Don't listen!"
Lu Yuan shouted, "This is a substitute's response!"
"Whoever answers will be recorded in the lower altar!"
Lin Zhaoxuan immediately bit his tongue, held a mouthful of blood in his mouth without making a sound, and held the Thunder Token across his chest, pressing it hard against his ear.
Song Qinghe then slammed the sealing disc close to the ground, and the yin-yang fish shimmered with cold light, like a thin layer of ice covering the area three feet around everyone's feet.
But the lamp master had already taken a step.
He walked very slowly, yet each step landed precisely on the opening and closing of the shadows' mouths.
Wherever the lamplight touched, the paper images were strung together with needles, moving forward in unison, getting closer and closer to the coffin.
"Fellow Daoist Lu!"
Song Qinghe's voice trembled with anxiety: "It's going to bring all the shadows here!"
A chill ran through Lu Yuan's eyes: "Then let it carry it."
"The more it carries, the less the person on the bottom of the jar can recognize who's on top."
He suddenly raised his left hand, fingers spread, palm facing outward, with a short knife in his right hand pressed against his palm, the red light of the copper coin on the back of the knife never fading.
Immediately, he stepped out with his feet in the Yu Step, his body first to the left and then to the right, and suddenly stepped out on the ground in a very peculiar "inverted Big Dipper" step.
As they walked, they recited: "The Big Dipper turns but does not return to the South, the stars sink but do not return to the North."
"I will use the Seven Star Steps to break your path to hell."
"The preceding star overshadows the following star, and the following star interrupts the preceding star."
"The lamp recognizes its shadow, but the shadow does not recognize the lamp."
"If the seat recognizes the Lord, the Lord will not recognize the body."
"The heavens and earth will turn upside down, overturning your very foundation of treachery!"
"Hurry, hurry, as the law commands!"
With each step he took, the salt grains beneath his feet would crack open in a ring of fine white lines, like ice breaking apart.
The cracks spread outwards along the stone path, forcing the shadows that had been drawn by the lamplight to pause.
But that's not enough.
Lu Yuan knew that if he couldn't create a "gap" between the seat master and the lamp master, the inner core of the jar below would take advantage of the situation and swallow all the jar's energy back in one gulp.
Then he suddenly turned to Lin Zhaoxuan and shouted, "Borrow your thunderous power to light my body, not the lamplight!"
"Strike the lamp bone!"
Lin Zhaoxuan was taken aback, but then he understood what he meant.
He immediately reversed his grip on the Thunder Token, with the tail facing forward, and with a tremor in his palm, the thunder pattern no longer struck straight down, but instead pierced the brass frame of the Flipping Lamp like a nail.
"Thunder roars in the bones, and the sound of the bones startles even the lamp itself!"
"I won't extinguish the fire, I'll nail your lamp-like bones to the ground, leaving only three inches of darkness!"
"Imperial Edict!!"
Four strands of blue-white lightning patterns nailed on in response, and the overturning lamp hummed. The curled-up human hand inside the lampshade suddenly shrank, and the firelight immediately became chaotic on half of its surface.
The lamp owner's expression finally changed.
He was still smiling gently, but there was a hint of gloom in his smile.
"Good tactic."
He said softly, "So what you want to sever is not just my name, but my very essence."
Lu Yuan said coldly, "You don't have a lamp bone; you only have a borrowed shell."
Upon hearing this, the lamp master did not get angry but laughed.
"shell?"
Do you know what's underneath the shell?
As soon as he finished speaking, the entire stone path suddenly emitted a very faint and long friction sound.
It looked like something extremely heavy was being dragged up from the bottom of the jar.
Everyone felt a chill run down their spines at the same time.
The next moment, the black mud in the altar slowly churned, and a hand slowly rose from the surface of the mud.
That's not a human hand.
The hand was slender and long, with excessively neat fingers, but the knuckles were wrapped with rings of black cinnabar thread.
My palm felt empty, as if something had scooped a piece out of it.
As soon as his hand touched the edge of the jar, a thick, fishy-smelling black mist immediately spewed out of the entire jar.
Immediately afterwards, a second and a third hand also emerged from the black mist.
Four, eight, a dozen or so —
Like countless hands sealed at the bottom of the jar, they are scrambling to climb up through the crack between the lamp master and the seat master.
"The heart of a cult leader is about to take hold!"
Lu Yuan's gaze suddenly sharpened: "Take half a step back, don't let it touch your shadow!"
Zhou Heng and Lin Zhaoxuan retreated almost simultaneously, and Song Qinghe also quickly lifted the sealing disc upwards. However, the shadows beneath their feet were swept up by the black mist, almost pinning them to the spot.
Lu Yuan took a deep breath, knowing there was no turning back now.
He made the ancestral seal with his left hand again, while his right hand plunged the short knife into the center of the salt circle on the ground.
The moment the blade entered the ground, the red light from the copper coin on the back of the blade suddenly surged, actually carving a small, round fire mark on the ground.
"Ancestral Fire Circle!"
"rise!"
He flipped his hands quickly, instantly changing the hand seal from "Inviting the Ancestral Seal" to "Opening the Altar and Holding the Fire Seal".
With palms facing each other and fingers embracing a lamp, slowly lift them upwards, as if scooping up an invisible flame from the ground.
He chanted, "The fire in the altar does not burn the corpse, but only those who have not returned to their roots."
"I'll burn your fake lamp bones, I'll burn your disgraceful reputation."
"Fire rises from the human world, and light shines on the old altar."
"One part reflects the receding shadow, two parts reflect the sinking mat, three parts reflect the bones of the altar, and four parts reflect your soul."
"If fire truly belongs to the Lord, then the evil throne will turn to dust."
"Ancestral Fire, Illuminate!"
As soon as the word "照" was uttered, the red light of the copper coin on the back of the knife suddenly exploded.
The golden light first shone on the master's face, and his grayish-white face immediately emitted a very fine "crackling" sound, like dry paper being torn by hot air.
Immediately afterwards, the light shone on the lamp in the lamp master's arms, and the curled-up human hand inside the lampshade froze on the spot, and a little bit of black blood-like lamp oil seeped out from between the fingers.
Finally, the light fell into the altar and shone on the densely packed pile of copper nails, paper tags, red ropes, and bone talismans.
Upon being illuminated, many of the objects began to turn white, curl at the edges, and char, as if they had been licked from the inside by a living fire.
However, just when everyone thought the situation had turned around, a very deep and muffled laugh suddenly came from the depths of the altar.
He is neither the master of the seat nor the master of the lamp.
The laughter was lower, older, and emptier, like it was being spat out from a well that had been buried underground for a hundred years.
"Great photo."
"Only after I see it can I come out."
Lu Yuan's expression changed instantly.
He finally understood that knocking on the altar door, borrowing the name path, turning over the mat lamp, and raising the shadow array were all not the true form of the innermost thing.
It is merely a shell that it has built by borrowing from the altar, the lamplight, and the guestbook.
The real stuff is always at the bottom.
That was neither the host, nor the lamp master, nor any of the shadows.
Instead, it was suppressed for countless years by double-jar lids, red thread seals, old offering mats, and infant bone talismans.
"The altar is dedicated to the spirit seat".
Inside the altar, one pair of hands after another suddenly parted to the sides.
The black mist split open.
A face slowly rose from the ground.
The face had no white paper, no mask, no lamplight, only layers of old skin plastered with incense ash, blood mud, and black cinnabar.
His features were still fairly clear, but his expression was as gloomy as the sky covering the entrance to a grave.
The most terrifying thing is that there is a deep indentation on its forehead, like a "granary eye" that has been pressed out by countless years of worship and suppression.
The moment it opened its eyes, the entire stone path seemed to simultaneously hear countless cries of "Please welcome us to a banquet!"
At the same instant, the seat master and the lamp master both lowered their heads.
Like two servants who have finally been given their rightful place.
The spirit altar spoke, its voice low, yet so subdued that all the lights seemed to sink: "The guests have arrived."
"It's time to sit down."
The altar spirit's words, "It's time to take your seats," were not spoken in a raised tone, but they struck everyone's chests like a centuries-old bell.
The next instant, all the paper lanterns along the stone path went out at once, and then suddenly lit up again.
The light was no longer the previous bluish-black or ghostly white, but a murky color mixed with grayish-yellow, old red, and corpse blue.
Like a murky soup brewed from countless years of incense, paper ash, bone oil, and human energy, it was poured directly in front of everyone.
Lu Yuan felt a blur before his eyes.
It's not the lights that are messed up, but the "table" that's in disarray.
The altar spirit raised its withered hand, which was almost just bone, with its palm facing outward and its five fingers gently clenched.
As soon as the paper was pulled away, the paper strips that were originally nailed to the walls on both sides of the stone path suddenly began to writhe like living snakes.
The white paper figures on the banner suddenly opened their eyes at the same time, but they had no pupils, only swirling black lines.
It felt like someone was using a pen to circle my eyes, layer by layer, until I was completely suffocated.
"The shadow returns to the seat, the lamp returns to the master."
"His name is in the register, his bones are in the altar."
The altar spirit murmured a sentence in a calm tone, as if he were ordering food.
But with each word it uttered, the shadows beneath everyone's feet were dragged forward an inch.
Zhou Heng suddenly raised his sword to strike the ground, only to find that the shadow beneath his feet seemed to be pressed down by mud.
Before the sword's edge had even landed, the shadow had already split open at its feet, revealing a dense array of gray finger marks underneath.
"It's using the altar to change its route!"
Lin Zhaoxuan roared, and the Thunder Token trembled. Just as the blue-white lightning patterns were about to shoot out, they were suddenly sucked in by the sunken "altar eye" on the altar spirit's forehead.
It was like a lightning snake entering a well, disappearing halfway with a "poof".
Lin Zhaoxuan groaned and took three steps back, his lips immediately turning red.
"Even thunder can't suppress it?"
Song Qinghe's face turned deathly pale.
Lu Yuan's gaze was cold and deep. He held the short knife horizontally in front of his chest, the red light of the copper coin on the back of the knife flashing on and off.
He could see clearly that the spirit worshipped at the altar was not simply a malevolent spirit, but a "sacrificial position" nurtured by four layers of shells: double altars, banquet table, register, and lamp master seat.
Now that it has revealed its true form, it cannot be easily dispersed by "beating". We must first cut off its path to receiving offerings, and then force it to leave the altar.
But it is already in the eye of the altar.
As the spirit of the altar slowly rose, everyone realized that its lower body did not have a complete body at all.
Instead, it was made of countless gray-black mats, knots, paper ash, and bone fragments, like a human skin mat turned upside down to form a "seat".
With each movement, a piece of old paper falls from beneath it, covered with the surnames of those who have been named over the years, the handwriting long since faded and blackened.
"You've overturned the jar of bones."
The altar spirit stared at Lu Yuan, its voice carrying a faint hint of amusement.
"But you've forgotten that above the altar bones, there's also an altar base."
"You can flip through the bones, but you can't find the seat."
"You can cut off your reputation, but you can't cut off your obligations."
Having said that, it suddenly raised its hand and gently pressed down on the end of the stone path.
With that press, the surrounding blue and white lights all rolled back, as if forcibly suppressed by an invisible hand.
Lu Yuan felt a tightness in his chest, and the Ancestral Fire Protective Seal was almost crushed.
He took three quick steps, using the Yu Step to steady himself, and shouted in a deep voice, "As long as the ancestral fire is extinguished, the lamps must not be disordered!"
"You are the spirit of the altar, therefore I will use the ancestral seal to officially establish your position on the altar!"
"Summon the Azure Dragon on the left, the White Tiger on the right, the Vermilion Bird in front, and the Black Tortoise behind!"
"When the Heavenly Gate opens, the Four Beasts return to their places!"
"Hurry, hurry, as the law commands!"
With his left hand, he flipped up the ancestral seal, and with his right hand, he drew a thin circle of fire patterns on the ground with the blade of his short sword.
The moment the fire patterns took shape, a sudden gust of cold wind swept through the four corners of the stone path, as if the shadowy beasts from all directions had been forcibly summoned, forcefully resisting the overwhelming pressure of the altar's spirit.
But the altar spirit only glanced at it indifferently, and then opened its mouth and spoke softly.
It wasn't air or fog, but rather strands of black thread as thin as hair.
The black line burrowed into the salt, the incense ash, and the lamp wick as soon as it touched the ground, gradually eroding the flame pattern that Lu Yuan had just managed to stabilize.
"You borrow four beasts, I will borrow ten thousand names."
As the altar spirit raised its eyes, countless tiny human figures appeared deep within them, like guests sealed within its pupils.
"You use a fire, I use a jar of life."
"What are you going to use to block it?"
Ignoring his injuries, Lin Zhaoxuan bit his tongue, spitting out a mouthful of blood mist. Holding the Thunder Token to his chest, he roared, "Thunder Ancestor, lend me your blood! Lend me the power to break this altar!"
"Thunder is the bone, blood is the sinew!"
"With a crack of thunderous bone, all evil spirits fall silent!"
"Imperial Edict—!"
A burst of lightning erupted, this time not as thin as needles, but as thick as fingers, a bluish-white bolt of lightning that struck straight at the altar spirit's forehead and altar eye.
The altar spirit neither dodged nor avoided the lightning bolt, but simply raised one hand, with its five fingers together and palm facing upward, forcefully catching the lightning bolt in mid-air.
The moment the lightning bolt was grasped, everyone heard an extremely piercing "sizzle" sound, like a branding iron burning into wet flesh.
But the altar spirit showed no sign of pain on its face. Instead, it slowly grinned, revealing a set of blackened teeth.
"All thunder has a root."
"If the root is in a person, then I can use it to change its direction."
With a flick of its wrist, it twisted Lin Zhaoxuan's lightning bolt into a dark blue arc, pulled it back, and slammed it against the stone wall with a loud bang, scattering large pieces of rubble.
Lin Zhaoxuan swayed and almost knelt down.
"This thing—can reverse the meaning of Dharma."
Lu Yuan felt a slight tremor in his heart.
He finally realized that the strength of the altar spirit lay not in brute force, but in "borrowing" and "overthrowing".
They can borrow names, lamps, altars, and methods, and even turn people's techniques and strategies into their own.
It's not simply resisting the law, it's taking advantage of it.
We can no longer let it stand in the eye of the jar.
Lu Yuan's eyes turned cold, and he abruptly sheathed his short sword, his ten fingers instantly forming the "Breaking Seat Technique".
The left hand has three fingers hooked to the sky, the right hand's thumb presses down on the base of the middle finger, the index finger stands upright, and the remaining two fingers are drawn inward, as if holding an invisible incense burner.
He hissed, "Every seat has its nails, and every jar has its nails!"
"If you nail the seat cushion off, the toilet will stop working!"
"I won't cut your body, I'll break your nails!"
"rise!"
After saying that, he suddenly took a step forward and pounced like an arrow towards the "base" of the altar where the sacrificial altar was covered with broken cloth and bones.
For the first time, a distinct coldness appeared in the eyes of the altar spirit.
It slowly raised its foot, and the pile of paper ash, bone slips, and red ropes beneath its feet all stood up, like countless tiny arms, all wrapping around Lu Yuan. The battle of the sacrificial ceremony had finally truly begun.