Chapter 524 - 489: Sacrificial Altar: Death (2)
"Hold your saber tight!"
Shi Ming reminded him as the branch in his hand swept toward Huo Zhuang. Unable to dodge in time, the boy took a solid hit, but his eyes lit up. He didn’t hesitate, using his Bone Saber to launch a counterattack. But Shi Ming simply sidestepped, easily avoiding the blow. The branch then curved in mid-air, striking at the boy’s waist.
"The second phrase: a weapon can be deceptive, but its force can be traced."
Of course, he was speaking the tribe’s language.
The meaning was that while a blade could be used for feints, the flow of power had a traceable path. A martial artist must not only pay attention to an opponent’s moves but also be wary of how their power is channeled. By observing the flow of power, one could grasp the enemy’s true intentions.
This was a lesson in combat.
With a branch against a Bone Saber, the boy had already "died" nearly a hundred times in just a few dozen minutes.
The traveler before him seemed to have become the most ferocious beast he had ever encountered in his life. Any casual movement could drag him into the abyss of death, and there wasn’t a single flaw in his defense.
He was like an insurmountable mountain.
The boy’s chest heaved. His strength was failing, and sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes as he gasped for breath. But he still held his weapon tightly. His gaze was seemingly fixed on Shi Ming’s shoulder, but in reality, it was on the tip of his foot...
WHOOSH—
The Bone Saber seemed to feint right, but it curved and struck toward Shi Ming’s chest.
He was putting the lesson into practice!
But this time, just an instant before it touched his chest, the Bone Saber—bound with Stone and hemp rope—was caught between two of Shi Ming’s fingers, unable to move another inch.
"The third phrase,"
"In all martial arts, speed is the one thing that cannot be broken."
And with that, the lesson was over.
Nearly an hour of instruction, three profound mantras, and the many details from their spar—Huo Zhuang would need a long time to digest it all.
The Burning Star rose.
The dawn rising behind Shi Ming lit up the boy’s eyes. He seemed to have understood something. He dropped his saber and was about to bow in thanks to Shi Ming, but an irresistible force gripped his arm.
"No matter what, never let go of your saber."
"Also,"
"Strength grows with how much you eat, but skill requires daily polishing. The set of saber techniques I just taught you is called..."
Shi Ming thought for a moment.
"Three Slashes of Breaking the Boundary."
"I hope it gives you some inspiration."
During his time as a guest at Huo Zhuang’s home, Shi Ming cultivated the image of a traveler skilled in combat and keen on exploring new and strange things. He also lingered for some time at the altar of this Red Wood Tribe. Using his Eye of Destiny, he covertly gathered some intelligence about that altar.
[Gathering intelligence...]
[Intelligence generated.]
[Altar of Sacrifice: Death]
[Eight altars have appeared, as if by coincidence, among eight tribes. They have become the method for selecting valiant warriors for the "King." But the "King" does not need warriors. When a fitting rhythm satisfies the altar’s needs, a boon will descend from an unknown place. The "King" uses this method to monitor that unknown place, while the warriors obtain these "boons" from the gods.]
[The people of the Red Wood Tribe hold a selection for one hundred people every five years.]
[The ritual is as its name suggests.]
[The fitting ritual here is death.]
[...]
There were eight altars in total. The one here was named Death.
The ritual was also death.
No wonder he had previously sensed a faint aura of death from the center of the altar. According to the boy, every time the altar was used for a ritual, the tribe would also slaughter some livestock to please the King and the gods. Occasionally, heavily injured participants would die during the selection, inadvertently fulfilling the altar’s conditions and allowing the boon to descend from the unknown place.
As for the "King’s" monitoring?
Shi Ming had a good idea of what was going on. The so-called King was the person behind the scenes controlling this planet, most likely a pseudo-god. Through the eight altars on this planet, he was connected to the Tomb Star Realm, watching the changes there.
This gaze might not be fixed there constantly, but it was like patrolling one’s own backyard—he would check on it every once in a while.
Moreover, the number eight made Shi Ming speculate further.
The origins that combine to form [Zero] also numbered eight.
One of them was also Death.
’Is this a coincidence, the influence of a long-dead god’s power, or an inevitability deliberately engineered by the pseudo-god?’
The mystery would soon be unraveled.
...
Just like a true traveler on this planet, Shi Ming lived in the tribe for fifteen days, allowing his body and mind to attune to the natives here.
「On this day, the altar was to be opened.」
The selection battle, held once every five years, would choose a true warrior for the King. The Priest would then be authorized to perform the Divine Revelation ceremony upon the altar. A warrior who had received the Divine Revelation would bear the King’s sigil and must leave the tribe within a year to find the King’s City and attain supreme glory.
"Are you confident?"
"Yes, Big Brother! With Mr. Ming’s guidance during this time, my strength has grown by leaps and bounds. I will definitely be able to win the King’s approval in the hundred-man selection and receive the Divine Revelation!"
"Big Brother believes in you!"
In their brief time together, Shi Ming saw a kind of primitive, wild simplicity in the boy, which stirred up memories from long ago.
’With his current strength, winning won’t be difficult.’
Shi Ming was pondering other matters when he heard someone call his name.
"Mr. Ming..."
"Hm?"
"Mr. Ming, if I receive the final Divine Revelation, I will ask the Priest to grant half of it to you. Although you haven’t formally accepted me as your disciple, your teachings these past few days have benefited me immensely. In my heart, you are already my teacher."
From Huo Zhuang’s perspective, Shi Ming, being too old to participate in the selection, must surely regret missing the opportunity. This traveler wasn’t as fortunate as him, to be born in a tribe blessed by the King’s favor. If he won, half of the reward naturally belonged to Mr. Ming and should be shared with him.
This was the boy’s simple purity.
Shi Ming shook his head.
"Mr. Ming, do you think I’m being overly arrogant?"
Shi Ming looked at Huo Zhuang’s hand, which was gripping his Bone Saber tightly.
New calluses had formed on his palm.
"No,"
"The Divine Revelation is something you deserve. Besides, these past few days, I have seen something even rarer in you. If you win this time, perhaps I can give you a gift. No, you can choose one of three gifts for yourself. It is more precious than the Saber Technique Mantra from before, but it might also come at a different kind of price."
"In any case, the choice is yours."
’A gift?’
In the boy’s heart, the gift he truly wanted was something else.
For instance, to become this traveler’s disciple...
’But I know that someone who travels the world won’t be tied down to a single tribe. Soon, Mr. Ming will leave this place. I and the Red Wood Tribe will be nothing more than a fleeting glimpse in his eventful life.’
’Whether he occasionally remembers me in the future or not, I will forever remember this benefactor who taught me for fifteen days.’
...
The tribe’s method of combat was not very methodical.
The Priest used a drawing of lots to arrange opponents. The winner would advance to the next round. In the first round, one hundred people were paired off to fight, selecting fifty winners. They would then be paired off again to select twenty-five winners.
Then came the five-person free-for-all on the sacrificial platform.
A single winner was chosen from each free-for-all to enter the final five-person grand melee. The last person standing would become the King’s warrior, stand at the center of the altar, and receive the Divine Revelation as the Priest began the ceremony!
During the tribal battles, one could concede at any time and withdraw from the selection.
But injuries and deaths were unavoidable.
The blood of the injured and the bodies of the dead would all be left on the altar as a testament to the tribe’s loyalty to the King and the gods.
The elders slaughtered the sacrificial beasts, letting their blood drench the altar. The young women danced the ritual dance, treading in the beasts’ blood. Amidst the deafening war drums, the young men began battle after battle upon the massive altar. Using weapons and shields of their own making, they wagered their honor and even their lives to select the final, single victor.
Not every fight drew blood.
It depended on the intensity of the fight and the opponent’s temperament. Against a ferocious person, the chances of getting injured were much higher. Against a peaceful one, an intense battle might be no more than a wrestling match.
Besides, everyone would conserve their strength in the first round.
The one-on-one battles were held ten at a time, and even the most intense fights lasted no more than half an hour.
Huo Zhuang easily defeated two opponents, advancing to the third round: the grand melee.
As long as he was the last one standing in the next two grand melees, he would win.