Dance of the blades

Chapter 63 Spilting Up

In the dead of the night, amongst the sea of stars the luminous moon hanged at the center of the night sky. Faint hues of purple and blue blended together harmoniously, creating a breathtaking scenery. Gazing at the night sky, Lan Sizhui lowered his head and sighed internally.

Alas, it was such a shame that the current situation made it inappropriate to appreciate the night sky. 

The colonnade trees lined the rocky path they trod, expanding and stretching until it vanished from their view to the horizon. Their feet moved swiftly and agilely, cleverly avoiding detection from the sharp ears of the teetering corpses ahead. 

The path upward narrowed further, spiraling up a hill before splitting to a cross road. Lan Sizhui frowned. Similar to the fork in the road, the wave of corpses followed the change of direction, diverging themselves into two halves. Their bony, slender legs dragged against the solid earth,  staggering from carrying weight of their gaunt bodies, leaving behind drag marks on the earth.

"Shidi follow me. Splitting up will cover more ground. The two of your friends should take the path on the left." Lan Sizhui hummed and compliantly trailed behind Xiao Xingchen's departing figure. 

"Splitting up!? But isn't that... Eh—Wait!" Ouyang Zizhen desperately called out, trying to gain the two martial brothers' attention. Unfortunately, by the time he had snapped from his daze state, the silhouette of two young men had vanished into the distance, appearing as small black specks in the vast canopy of trees.

"Stop screaming! Do you want the corpses to notice us!? Let's go!" Unable to bear his friend making a fool of himself, Jin Ling ushered him away from his spot and forcefully dragged him to the path opposite to the one Lan Sizhui and Xiao Xingchen had taken.

Throughout the entire walk, Lan Sizhui had remained deadly silent, purposely maintaining a polite distance from his senior martial brother. The two had wandered quite far, from the growing distance between the two separated groups, the shouts of their friends had long since been muffled into the background. 

Naturally, Lan Sizhui was unaware as to what had occurred behind him. His attention was solely on Xiao Xingchen, whom he was afraid would lose sight of if he ever slacked off his pace. Xiao Xingchen's light footwork mimicked the personality of the owner, with a temperament gentle and graceful like the autumn breeze.

But in contrast to his fluent and gentle manoeuvre, the young man's face remained rigid and stern. Completely shredding away his previous amiable attitude, it was as though he covered in a layer of frost, freezing anyone who dared to go near.

Almost as though he had become a different person.

Lan Sizhui retraced his gaze, his hands clutched onto the straps of the wooden box he carried. 

Despite the fact that they were martial brothers—sharing the same master and had nurtured their talents under the same roof—they were as distanced as strangers. Aside from their initial encounter in the midst of Lan Sizhui's endeavours at splitting the colossal boulder, the two had not interacted beyond that. 

Hence Lan Sizhui was uncertain as to how he should converse and chose to keep his head fixed on the ground. 

It was almost as though he had reverted back to his childhood when he was still just a freshly adopted youth, timid and diffident, he dared not to directly face the eyes of two adoptive fathers. 

The child having experienced the pain of abandonment at a young age, actively distanced himself, fearing he would inadvertently cause them to lose their sympathy and sever the newly formed family tie. 

Noticing the change in the young boy's state of mind, the inhabitant in the wooden box stirred as if trying to comfort him. The subtle vibrations traversed to the fingertips of his hand through the straps, bringing him back to clarity.

"I'm alright...don't worry about me..." 

Lan Sizhui smiled, shaking away the sudden melancholy enveloping him.

 Treading behind the large horde of staggering corpses, it wasn't long until they reached the end of the path. The trees parted way for them— similar to servants when receiving their masters—they tilted to the sides, revealing the opening of a dark cave in front of them.

Xiao Xingchen turned his head to Lan Sizhui, "There are many corpses gathering ahead. Be careful and don't make noise."

Xiao Xingchen had a naturally gentle temperament. His features were soft and generally pleasant to the eye, causing the people he conversed with to be subconsciously soothed by him.

However, the dangerously lowered sharpness of eyes and tone contradicted this image, repainting this air of benignity with the solemnity.

They carefully entered the cave one step at a time, running their hands over the rough texture of the walls. 

Navigating through the darkness, the remainder of their senses excluding vision had become increasingly sensitive.

Drip一

Drip一

The sound of water trailing from the ceiling remained clear in the still darkness.

Lan Sizhui lifted his head, his hair was slightly damped from droplets above.

A grimace marred his face,"There's the scent of blood up ahead."

Xiao Xingchen frowned and nodded. In fact unbeknownst to Lan Sizhui Xiao Xingchen had detected the metallic scent a few feet away earlier. His hand was at the handle of the sword on standby.

The strong odour got denser as they approached, a small chamber isolated from the rest of cave with a thin opening.

A dark red liquid mixed with the murky puddles on the ground, creating a eerie trail leading into the unknown.

Lan Sizhui grimaced, the thick scent was now fused with an intense stench of rot, ruthlessly invading his nostrils.

Due to the narrow space of the opening, Lan Sizhui was forced to lower his head and squeeze his body through the gap.

He could not understand what he was seeing...

The lumpy stone walls enclosed the small area. It worked as a barrier between the rest of the cave and the naturally formed room, trapping the condensed, nauseating malodour.

Lan Sizhui's vision blurred, or rather the remainder of what he could make out.

The cave had no lighting. They had to bring their own一 a small paper lantern that Lan Sizhui and his friends had prepared beforehand.

He felt his throat tightening. He retched but nothing came out.

His robes were drenched in sweat. He felt like vomiting.

No, he wished he had vomited.

At least if he had, it would have covered the repulsive scent. But alas, nothing came out of his throat.

If the smell in the room was not revolting enough than the source of the vile stench would have sent him fleeing.

Squatting his eyes, he could make out the sight of maggots. That's right maggots!

They swarmed around in large grumbles, individually squirming their bodies and disappearing into massive white clutches.

Their white bodies reflected the light from the lantern as they dived into the tender flesh of their meal.

And what were they feasting on, you may ask.

Hanged on a tall stone column一 bounded by weathered ropes一 laid wounded corpse drenched in its own blood.

The face of the corpse was disfigured with cut wounds, making it impossible to recognise their original appearance.

The mouth of the corpse was wide open in horror with its tongue missing, showing the cruelty of the perpetrator.

If that was not enough, the killer even tripped the corpse of their clothing and cut their lower half一ridding them of their dignity in their death!