Twilight Boundary-Chapter 711 - 702: Offering Sacrifices to the Mountain and Inviting the Gods

"Mountain Opening!"

"Calling the spirits!"

Yet, at this moment, amidst the mysterious skies and earth, disasters approached Old Yin Mountain from twelve different directions.

Now, as the strange wind blew into the forest, Old Yin Mountain, appearing like midnight in broad daylight, saw Dayang Village leading the way. The ritual of Sacrificial Mountain on the eighth day of the month had begun.

The Saint held the incense, guests observed the ceremony, and the people prayed.

The Second Master served as the incense holder, a red silk wrapped around his waist, holding three incense sticks in his hands. He walked step by step from Dayang Village, accompanied by two straw dragons crafted by the villagers, dancing and weaving.

Behind him followed the Blowers, with drums and gongs resounding to the heavens. Every ten zhang, he would stop to place incense by the roadside, and the incense attendants would offer him another set of three incense sticks.

This was a tribute to various ghostly gods, with straw dragons leading the way while the ghostly gods bowed their heads. Wandering ghosts all received the incense candles.

After the straw dragons followed the village folks and elders. Those with seniority carried offerings like millet and beans in the front, while those with lesser status carried paper effigies and incense candles behind, burning them by the second incense post.

They arrived at the land of Sacrificial Mountain, right in front of Hu Ma's godmother, where an incense table and spirit tablet were already set up.

The food-protection general and other observers from various places in Mingzhou awaited there, watching as the Second Master solemnly approached the incense table, guarded by two straw dragons.

He inserted the three incense sticks into the incense burner, retreated three steps, and began to bow respectfully with others.

After bowing three times, he rose to a half-kneel. The Old Clan Chief had already handed him a strip of Yellow Paper. The Second Master unrolled it and loudly recited the prayers—words meant for the ghostly gods to hear, mostly blessings and disaster aversion.

Outside, eloquence was often required for writing, but in the village, simplicity took precedence, lending it an ancient and robust feel.

Each time he finished a passage, he bowed once more, stood up, offered incense, and those beside him presented offerings.

The people behind, along with the observers, bowed too, burning incense and offering incense candles on the ground.

Within the forest, the rolling incense and a mysterious, ancient aura gradually emerged, lingering and enveloping the people of Sacrificial Mountain.

The vicious mountain winds grew fiercer, and the gloom above grew heavier. But within this warm and heavy scent of incense, those winds seemed to be blocked outside.

...

...

"Are you... you okay?"

Not far from the Sacrificial Mountain ritual, Zhao Sanyi and Chen Abao rushed forward to support Hu Ma. They were concerned and clearly guilty, even though the fallen Lady Meng was momentarily forgotten.

"I... I'm fine."

Hu Ma took several deep breaths, inwardly contemplating, Indeed, the cost of invoking calamity was immense.

Although protected by the Lifebound Spirit Temple, the sacrifice of the fourth incense should have meant that the Meng family bore the consequences. Yet, there was still an intangible backlash that nearly caused him to lose control, making him spit a mouthful of blood.

Yet, without that blood, the act wouldn't have been believable.

"Marvelous, mystifying..."

Amidst their tension, the Madman who had crawled out of a coffin clapped his hands and exclaimed. He directly gazed toward Sacrificial Mountain, saying, "It turns out Young Master Hu was well-prepared. Yes, well-prepared..."

"Using a Hall God to ward off calamity was a good method, but insufficient, haha, far from enough..."

"Twelve routes of calamity, unprecedented! The Meng family has invested hugely this time. Young Master Hu won't be able to withstand it..."

"..."

"Twelve routes of calamity?"

Zhao Sanyi and the others already suspected the strange phenomenon in the mountains was due to the Meng family disregarding warnings and inviting calamity. Upon hearing the number "twelve," they were startled.

He swiftly turned to glance at the Madman. Because those who brought Benefit to the Sun Family didn't interact often with the other Ten Surnames, he couldn't recognize him, but merely hearing his words, he guessed his identity.

"How is it possible? Could the Meng family really be this ruthless?"

His heart pounded. He cried out, and suddenly his sleeve hung down, as wide as a pouch. Quickly reaching into the sleeve, he astonishingly pulled out a basket of eggs, raised it high without looking, and then smashed it to the ground.

The eggs toppled, and countless of them broke.

He squatted quickly, counting rapidly inside the basket. His face turned pale as he did so.

Twelve!

The number of broken eggs, no more and no less, was precisely twelve.

"Damn it..."

He paused momentarily before suddenly shouting, "That guy... is he really a Madman?"

"Twelve routes of calamity! How could he harm others without considering if the Meng family can bear it? Can they carry these twelve routes of calamity themselves?"

"..."

Realizing the gravity of the situation, even Chen Abao and Fourth Miss Zhou fell silent. Meanwhile, Hu Ma, having spat blood, was adjusting his breathing. His complexion slowly recovered, and he sighed heavily.

To others, it seemed as if he was trying hard to suppress inner discontent. Fixing his gaze on the Madman from the theft disaster sect, he said resolutely, "Sacrificial Mountain, Sacrificial Mountain..."

"Could this Sacrificial Mountain ritual in Old Yin Mountain... shield our Young Master from calamity?"

"..."

"Not enough, not enough..."

The Madman who crawled out of the coffin didn't seem to mind Hu Ma, who had previously buried him. Or perhaps he had found an entertaining plaything and so ignored Hu Ma completely.

Moving chaotically, he appeared truly insane, yet his steps were precise, as if he were rapidly measuring a position. He knelt, crawled over a dozen zhang, and came to rest at the foot of the cliff.

Gently lifting his head, he blew a breath.

This breath, carefully exhaled and almost inaudible, miraculously stirred a wisp of wind that blew away the withered vines and tangled leaves entwining the cliff, revealing an eagle's nest.

The keen-eyed among them unexpectedly saw a nest of eaglets within it, with a male eagle unfurling its wings, flapping them threateningly.

Nearby, more than ten colorful snakes with heads raised, poised to attack, stared fixedly at the nest. Their eerie green eyes were locked on it. Their bodies would occasionally coil, venomous tongues darting, then they would suddenly spring forward, only to be repelled by the powerful flapping of the eagle.

It was January, a time of freezing cold when snakes should be hibernating and eagles should not be hatching. Yet here they appeared, and these two adversaries had come together. Watching intently, the Madman incessantly muttered,

"Young Master Hu, clever indeed, to think of using a Hall God to shield from disaster..."

"Hall Gods, but a few, too few, all hiding..."

"That he could persuade this one Hall God to block disaster is clever, but it's not enough. Twelve routes of calamity—no one can withstand them..."

"He is merely using the Sacrificial Mountain ritual to coax the few remaining Hall Gods to come and be his scapegoats. But this bit of incense is far from enough, far from enough..."

"..."

As he continued to speak, everyone saw that on the cliff, though the eagle was mighty and ferocious, the flock of snakes was closing in. It was clearly losing ground, and the nest of eaglets was in imminent danger.

In Old Yin Mountain, the incense probably is indeed insufficient...

Hu Ma gazed coldly, slowly musing, What if there was additional incense from elsewhere?

...

...

With Old Yin Mountain at the core, Disaster Senders approached from eleven directions.

When an eerie wind blew, forcibly pushing these Disaster Senders—who dared not cross the boundary—forward, the disaster-sending squad, consisting of the Meng family's Hall Officer, House Generals, and kin, became completely uncontrollable.

Far away in Salt State, Young Master Meng wondered why the situation had spiraled out of control, just as those guarding the disaster objects wondered.

Seeing the Disaster Senders actually step beyond their limits, they were nearly overcome by despair.

Some panicked and shouted, intending to stop them. But before they could approach, the lambs, chickens, dogs, ducks, or pigs held by the Disaster Senders turned their heads stiffly. Their empty eyes looked at them, and the people collapsed.

Within moments, their bodies shriveled, and from their sleeves, collars, and pant legs, dense swarms of black flies crawled out.

Witnessing this, those who wished to flee met the same fate within a few steps.

Those aware of the danger could only grit their teeth and continue to accompany the Disaster Senders. The Blowers kept blowing, and those carrying the ceremony tents continued to carry them. Yet, there were always some who were too afraid and couldn't play their instruments.

Thus, one Blower kept playing, his face reddening, until black blood trickled from the mouthpiece of his trumpet, dripping onto the road.

The man carrying the green banner trembled with fear, causing it to sway. The white silk streamer on the banner then fell, wrapped around his neck, and tightened until he collapsed.

The sizable disaster-sending team—comprised of ceremony tents, guards, Blowers, and Meng family bloodline—seemed to lose someone with every step.

But with each death, the remaining Disaster Senders grew more solemn and silent, and their pace quickened. The wind beside them also grew fiercer and more ominous.

They were Disaster Senders, and disasters were things from the underworld.

The underworld had no concept of pathways. When disasters reached the mortal world, they still followed the rules of the underworld.

The disaster objects could not see the roads of the mortal world, meaning that in their eyes, there were no roads. Therefore, even if their locations were varied—some near Old Yin Mountain, some far, some so distant it would take months of walking to reach—now, it seemed to be but a fleeting moment.

When the shadow of Old Yin Mountain was reflected in their eyes, it was as if they were only a few miles away and could walk into the mountain.

...

...

"Receive the altar decree!"

And at that instant, following the incense offering led by the Second Master of Old Yin Mountain with the common people, Ghost Walkers all over the world set up altars, accepting the decree of the Inquiry great hall officer.

They led the common people of various villages and stockades in burning silver paper and offering incense candles.

Immense wishing power surged forth instantly.

The footsteps of the eleven groups of Disaster Senders, though clearly nearing Old Yin Mountain, suddenly grew heavy.

The image of Old Yin Mountain in their eyes also seemed to suddenly become more distant.