Chapter 220 - Praise the Prince!

Praise the prince indeed… Yuzu frowned as she withdrew her hand from the black string of the Abbott. The scene of the warehouse faded from her mind as she re-centered herself in the aetheric plane.

A hot, humid darkness surrounded her. She reached up to her eyes, gently tightening the blindfold wrapped around her head.

The rough, hot breath of a dying god bellowed out only a few meters in front of her, washing over her in a sticky humid wave. Though she couldn’t see Him, she could feel his presence. Immense. Powerful. Faltering.

“Keep that blindfold tight.” Li Ru said, “If you so much as glimpse a hair on His body, you will certainly lose control and die on the spot.”

“I know.” Yuzu said. She’d seen that future in her thread already. A single accidental, careless glance could have - would have - ended her life. She shuddered as she recalled the awful vision of her death, the sound of her screams as black, bony limbs burst from her body, the smell of blood and vomit…

After that she made sure not just to keep her eyes shut, but to keep the blindfold tight.

The heat from Deka’s monstrous body exuded a heavy musk. From His flesh, the wet, heavy sound of fleshy things plopped against the ground at uneven intervals. Where they landed, golden strings spooled to life out of thin air before thinning and fading to nothing. The pitiful squeals of life forms being born from His body only to die in seconds made Yuzu feel ill.

Li Ru stood at her side, keeping a steady hand on her shoulder to guide her.

“Is this where you wanted to go?” Li Ru asked.

“Yes.” Yuzu nodded, looking down at a thin black spool of smoke that was quietly churning at a particular spot in the clearing. It faded in and out of existence, its future unclear. She exhaled slowly as she steeled her will and looked up at the giant knot of threads suspended in the air above her. It pulsed and squirmed, composed of thousands of threads of all the citizens and exalted that were about to take part in the disaster that was about to unfold.

“It’s about to begin.” Yuzu said, raising her hands up to the sky and activating her spirituality. The pulsing knot responded, the thousands upon thousands of threads spreading out according to her will.

At her side, Li Ru quietly moved to make an exit, to let Yuzu work in peace, however she stopped him in his tracks, “Stay. I need you in a bit.”

“What for? I can’t see what you’re doing.”

“Just stay.” Yuzu replied, her voice taking on an aetherial quality, “I’ll tell you when it’s time for your part.”

~

Zwei Xing moved quickly in the cramped, dark space under the stage. The wooden planks above him creaked with the stomps of performers above, the air was filled with drums and synchronized yelling chants.

The orange rays of the sun glowed through the cracks between the boards, playing off the trusses and pillars of the wooden framing. The pupils of his eyes reflected the light, two glowing orbs shining in the darkness that churned with strange illusory creatures and symbols.

Moments earlier he had seen it wheeled in - a tarp-covered cart, emanating with demonic energy. This was the focus of the ritual, which would serve as the vessel in which the ritual’s energy would gather. He was alone, his teammates elsewhere in the city on their own missions.

Several monks stood guard around the cart. From the way they carried themselves Zwei could tell they were Exalted. Zwei’s heart beat heavily in his chest as he focused on the closest monk, reaching out with his psyche and planting a tiny seed in the monk’s mind.

The seed sank down into the monk’s subconscious, quietly sprouting a simple thought that tapped into their base instincts. In this moment, the monk became quietly, subtly scared of the dark. He averted his gaze away from the shadows, keeping his focus on the light sources in the room. He took less notice of the shapes and sounds coming from the darkness.

A blind spot formed in his awareness, and Zwei was right in the center of it.

One by one, Zwei planted this seed in each monk’s mind, until he reached the final one, who was wearing a pair of crystal spectacles. This monk was the supervisor of the group watching over the cart. He was currently facing away from Zwei, his attention on the performance taking place above.

Sweat budded at Zwei’s temple. His vision was starting to waver from the exertion. He squinted and reached out once more.

As Zwei activated his power the spectacled monk’s attention suddenly jerked away from the stage. He spun around, looking straight into the darkness where Zwei was hiding. His glasses flashed with a rainbow haze.

The group of monks around him tensed up as he pointed into the darkness, “Intruders! Go.”

“Yes, Master Spade!” A flurry of footsteps filled the area below the stage as the monks dashed into the darkness.

Zwei backed away, slinking into the shadows as the monks dashed straight past him. He cast a confused look toward the spectacled monk, who was looking in the direction that his men were running.

There was a crash and a bellow as one of the monks flew backward, hitting the pillar next to Zwei. Three deep claw marks bloomed red on his chest as he fell to the ground.

“What is that?!” One of the monks exclaimed. The shrill ring of swords rang out. “Take it down!”

A bestial roar filled the air as one of the supporting timbers at the edge of the stage was smashed into splinters, causing part of the stage above to partially collapse.

Twilight streamed in from the cracks in the stage above, revealing a seven foot bear with coarse brown fur. Its nose wrinkled into a vicious snarl as it swung its massive paws out, three inch claws leaving terrible gouges in the monks trying to subdue it.

On the stage above, the monks continued their performance without interruption. The monks were in the middle of a loud and chaotic choreographed fight, causing the commotion below stage to be unnoticed by the crowd. The collapsed corner of the stage was in the back, behind a few of the drummers who discretely scooted their drums out of the way while doing their best to keep the performance going.

A sharp glance and gesture from the Abbott directed a number of the monks on the side to run below stage. At the same time, a tall, cloth-covered ‘statue’ was being slowly rolled out into the center of the stage.

Beneath that cloth, the black tree with hand-shaped branches trembled with a demonic energy. Medusa hung limply, mumbling a subconscious prayer. Six monks pulled the cart forward while another six pulled from behind, all of them chanting the opening of the sacrifice ritual.

The drums began to beat in a heavy, asynchronous rhythm as the choreographed battle suddenly stopped with the appearance of a grey-robed actor in the center of stage.

“Praise Lord Noga!” He shouted, “Deka Na Zenchang!”

A number of bonfires around the stage suddenly burst into flame as the monks all shouted in chorus, “Deka Na Zenchang!”

The monks on stage looked out onto the sea of thousands of people who were watching the performance. Confusion crossed their faces as they didn’t understand the words. Nor did they understand what was underneath the giant cloth statue.

However a fever had been built up in the crowd from the dramatic, novel performance. An excited energy captivated the audience as an enthusiastic member of the crowd began to chant along with the monks.

“Praise Lord Noga!” “Deka Na Zenchang!”

The prayer, spoken in the ancient Fortus language, carried the energy of the crowd with it as the ritual commenced.

A terrible rumbling began to shake the ground from deep beneath the earth.

Below the stage, Zwei tore his gaze away from the rampaging bear that was taking all the attention of the monks streaming in from outside.

His gut clenched into a ball as he felt an immensely demonic aura blossom from the tree that had been rolled into a spot directly above the covered cart. The spectacled monk had stayed by the cart the entire time, and ripped off the cover of the cart to reveal a giant dragon’s skull that was stained with blood.

The ‘seed’ that Zwei had planted in the spectacled monk’s mind had successfully taken root as he remained completely unaware of Zwei’s presence. Zwei carefully moved forward, taking care not to alert the monk’s spiritual intuition with sudden movements.

He retrieved a thick-walled bottle from his pocket and prepared his nerves to dash forward. This bottle was filled with a swirling brown liquid, prepared by Dr. Baolan to explode once lit with spiritual intention.

All he needed to do was wait for the right time. Quill had told him not to take action until the ritual had started - they needed to use the unstable energies to completely destroy the ritual pieces, otherwise they might not do enough damage.

The liquid inside the bottle sloshed about as he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling.

On the stage above, as the crowd roared with a chant to the Demonic Prince of Life, the Abbott slipped underneath the cloth that covered the black tree. He brandished a long, silver dagger, the whites of his eyes completely black as he muttered a dark, low prayer.

The twilight sky burst with light as twelve giant vessels around the inner city walls lit up in ten meter tall flaming pillars.

The drums and chanting resonated through his body. As the energy in the air reached its peak he plunged the blade deep into Medusa’s chest. She screamed as she came alive from the pain, spasming against the bindings as a torrent of blood gushed down her body.

The blood poured onto the stage below, trickling through the cracks where they landed on the glistening skull directly below.

The sight of blood pouring down from above caused Zwei to tense up as he was filled with urgency. He immediately started to move forward, but just as he was about to make his move, a hand grasped his arm.

He jerked away in surprise, turning to face his attacker, only to look into the calm eyes of the petite woman with red hair from before.

“Not yet.” She looked at Zwei seriously and shook her head, “She says to wait until it starts.”

A number of questions flashed through Zwei’s head as he settled on, “Who’s She?”

The red haired woman looked a bit confused herself as she replied, “She called herself the White Maiden.”