Journey to the End of the Night

30: Chapter 30: Sacrifice in the Mountains 30: Chapter 30: Sacrifice in the Mountains In the distant dream, the girl in green gently held his black hair by the collar, as if shy and nervous, her slender, trembling fingers clenched tightly.

Yet, her face was a blur, unrecognizable.

Baili An did not know whether this dream was just that or something else, but when he woke up, these memories became extremely vague and elusive.

With a headache, as he rose, he found himself covered in thick leaves and vines, like a bedspread, shielding him from the cold winds.

A warm smile appeared on Baili An’s face.

Looking down, he saw the silly little deer lying by his side, softly snoring, using its body warmth to comfort him.

And hanging from its mouth was a dry leaf, with its ears twitching from time to time, looking both serene and well-behaved.

He did not have a heartbeat or body temperature, and once asleep, he seemed as good as dead.

The little deer could not distinguish whether he was dead or asleep, no doubt frightened.

Silly enough to bring leaves and vines to cover him, it stayed by his side without moving until he awoke.

Had it truly come to regard him as its master?

Humm…
The little deer was fast asleep.

Baili An’s gaze softened, and he lay down again, holding the sleeping deer a bit tighter, unable, though he was, to fall back asleep; yet his heart was at peace.

Suddenly, Baili An thought that raising a little deer… might not be such a bad thing.

…

…

The Endless Sea, true to its name, was a boundless ocean that stretched beyond sight, with water surging as if demonic creatures were turning the sea upside down from beneath, the hard rocks splitting terrifyingly under the impact of fierce waves.

In some parts of the sea, the water was red in color.

Even more eerie was that above the sea’s surface, whether affected by some ancient and magical aura of the area or not.

Even the crescent moon in the sky was a crimson color, creating a menacing, demonic atmosphere, with the entire sea area existing under an extremely strange ambiance since ancient times.

Naturally magnificent and spectacular was Kongcang Mountain, standing against the sea, stretching for nine hundred miles.

Logically, such a vast region with fertile resources, in a world dominated by Immortal Sects, should be highly sought after and popular.

Yet, throughout the tens of thousands of years since Kongcang Mountain was formed, it had remained ownerless.

It bordered the Endless Sea, where occasionally ghostly and demonic creatures would crawl onto the mountain range from the sea, bringing disaster in all directions.

Strangely though, these creatures seldom attacked the mortal villagers, preferring to trouble the cultivators instead.

If anyone tried to claim the mountain, establishing a sect, within seven days, they would be attacked by the demons from the sea.

Over time, people came to believe that although the mountain seemed ownerless, it actually had a master.

Otherwise, why would most mortals be blessed with a mysterious power when threatened by the demons?

And the inhabitants of the mountain had enjoyed favorable weather for many years, with no occurrences of bandits or war.

Once someone harbored greed and attempted to claim the mountain, they would surely be doomed.

Thus, the locals created a temple to worship a fictitious Mountain God, who was envisioned as a figure with the body of a horse and the head of a dragon, carved into a stone Divine Statue for veneration.

During festivals, the mountain dwellers would hold a grand sacrificial ceremony, offering fine wines and using pigs and sheep as sacrifices, plus a piece of lucky jade to adorn the sacrificial offerings, buried deep underground in a cave.

And the cave was not chosen at random but divined by a geomancy master from the mountains.

Then they would select strong men and beautiful girls from various villages and tribes to gather in the cave.

Men danced with shields, and the girls with auspicious jade and wearing sacrificial robes, praying to the mountain spirits to dispel war calamities and seek fortune.

When Mid-Autumn Festival arrived, Baili An coincidentally encountered these mountaineers, tallying with the cave he was in.

The locals, kind and amiable, seeing Baili An living a wandering life alone in the mountain, enthusiastically pulled him to join their ceremony and enjoy the feast.

The cold cave suddenly became lively, full of human warmth and vitality.

A burly man holding a roasted leg of lamb came up to Baili An, tearing a bite, patted his shoulder, and said with a hearty laugh, “Young brother, it’s dull being a Scavenger alone.

My sister fancies you.

If you join our family, you won’t have to wander anymore.”
When Baili An met these mountain dwellers in the cave, they asked his surname and where he came from.

He answered that he was Si Chen, an orphan, a Scavenger wandering everywhere.

Baili An smiled and declined their offer.

Looking at the merry life in the mountains, he yearned for it.

But mortal life did not belong to him.

The man, undeterred by the rejection, laughed heartily and pointed to a group of men gathering, saying, “Si Chen, my brother, the strength competition has started.

This year’s prize is a fine bow.

Without a good bow, the strong men of the mountains can’t catch their prey.

How about it, care to give it a try?”
Baili An looked in the direction the man pointed, and saw hundreds of youths and young men forming a circle, with two in the middle wrestling and fighting; the atmosphere was heated.

What was surprising was that among those hundred men, there was a Cultivator, at about Second Grade level.

That was truly interesting.

And that prize bow, an iron bow, was placed by all the village chiefs.

Even the bow was no ordinary one; with its body and string emanating faint Spiritual Power, it ranked as a Low Grade treasure.

For mortals or average cultivators, it indeed was an exceptional bow.

Baili An was quiet by nature; watching the excitement was one thing, but he did not like to join the fray, so he shook his head to show his lack of interest.

The man immediately felt this handsome youth to be quite dull, lacking the zest of youth.

No longer persistently warm, he brushed off his hands after finishing his lamb leg and headed energetically toward the crowd, ready to fight with hands like fan blades.

Baili An, meanwhile, crouched down to hug his little deer, his gaze tender as he watched a rare scene of human life.

Soon the strength competition concluded, with the only Cultivator among the hundred men naturally the victor.

At Second Grade level, fighting ordinary people one-on-one was not difficult.

He was winning with clean efficiency.

The young man in the beast fur coat naturally stood out.

Cheers erupted, along with admiring glances from girls in ceremonial attire.