Chương 380: Ghosts of the Mine (XXVI)

With the brief distraction(?) and nuisance(?) now gone, the initial purpose of the trip--at least for Shuren--could resume. The kids and I (it's kind of scary how I keep grouping two old dudes into this group) set up camp at the very edge of the flat, with about two hundred feet of distance between us and them.

As Long Tao took out the big-ass cauldron to cook and Lao Shun took out an even bigger-ass cauldron to concoct pills, and as the kids split between the two to watch, I stood at the front, gazing over as they pulled the carriages up and slowly began to pull the bodies off. They were extremely careful, and the entire process--per body--took about thirty minutes. One by one, they pressed the bodies up against the very edge of the plateau, lining them up next to one another, before turning to the carriages...

and beginning to dismantle them. A frown dug out onto my face as they demolished them all, turning them into two piles of wood. It became a bit clearer once they started to position the wood around and in-between the bodies until they built small enclosures containing the three, slightly rectangular in shape with an overhead 'roof'. Shuren glanced over at me at that moment and seemed to invite me over; I hesitated for a second, but curiosity got the better of me.

I've seen many people die since coming to this world, but I've actually never attended a funeral rite of any kind. As on Earth, so here, people grieved the dead, and despite the capacity to live for thousands of years, there were no immortals. Goodbyes had to be said at some point, and they, too, seemed to have formed rituals of it. I walked over slowly and joined them, making sure to stay completely silent.

The first thing they did (well, beyond all the things they already did) was pull out a long, striped piece of extremely luminescent cloth. The base seemed to be white, but it was perfused with almost vein-like webbings that glowed at irregular intervals. Shuren held one end, while a man held the other, and they laid it over the top of the canopies they built over the bodies, with the cloth extending well past the edges of the small construction, bundling up on the floor.

Right after, they planted three sticks of incense on top of the wooden canopies, positioned precisely above the heads, and lit them up. Smoke drifted upwards swiftly and gently, with a pleasant aroma actually wafting toward my nostrils not too much later. It was a bit minty and a bit flowery and would probably be extremely overwhelming within enclosed spaces.

I felt an arm grasp my shoulder suddenly--it was one of the men who guided me a bit to the left and back as we all lined up behind the canopies, spaced about six inches apart, our shoulders just barely not touching. They clasped their hands in front of their chests, and everyone except Shuren lowered their heads, with me following their lead. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

She spoke up, breaking the silence, though in a language I couldn't understand. It was deep and resonant, and she spoke without interruptions--not even to take a breath--for almost five minutes. As if coordinated, when the last word slid past her lips, all three sticks of incense let loose their last billows of smoke. We broke rank once more, with me falling a bit further back as all six of them laid their hands on top of the wooden canopies.

Shuren mumbled a few more words into her jaw as their hands began to glow with the tint of flames and, before the second was up, kindling the wood beneath them. As the fire roared and raged, they pulled back and joined me, watching it in silence. It rose up to nearly twenty feet above us, wild and untamed, and I could only stand still and watch in awe.

As seconds ticked, it began to change colors--while it started off as that familiar, amber glow of flames, it quickly became cyan, and then emerald, and then it became pure white. The true spectacle came as the fire was beginning to die out--the white flames began to distort and twist, and from them spawned colors of the whole spectrum, shimmering against the vague edges of the flames. Colors suffused the dying light, and as it all became ash, the last flicker of flame shot up into a dispersing pillar.

Just before it completely dispersed, I heard a hum--low and droning, one that seemed to rip directly into my soul. Before I could even figure out what it was, it disappeared--though the confusion didn't last for too long, as a status window appeared in front of me. Rather than explaining it, though, it just... confused the shit out of me. [Hostile energy detected] [...] [Hostile energy has been nullified] [Warning!] [Host's presence has been distantly noted. The host is currently being shielded from scrying]...

what? What the hell does that even mean? I mean, I know what it means, obviously, but it's just... confusing. Who has 'distantly noted' me? And what kind of a scrying am I being shielded from? And why?

"Unfortunate," Shuren's voice ripped me out of my thoughts as she sighed.

"What is?" I asked.

"They failed, too, to embrace Dao."

"..."

"This is our Order's way," she said.

"The dying save a small modicum of Life Qi within themselves before we bury them. It has happened in history before that, as their souls are being embraced by Samsara, Dao would sing and invite them for an embrace. If they manage to do it, they are not only reborn into flesh and mind known but immediately become Emperors. It's a hum that only the dying hear, the Song of Dao." oh. Oh. Oh-for-the-love-of-all-- Okay, calm down. That's just their interpretation. It doesn't mean it's true.

It doesn't mean that 'hum' was Dao, and it certainly doesn't mean that Dao is hostile towards me. Honestly, that would kind of shatter my understanding of everything, as, even though I never expressly thought it, as it were, I was always under the assumption that somehow, some way, my being here is connected to Dao. How? Why? Why me? Yeah, that's why I never expressly thought it, but, deep down, I did believe it.

If that were not only to be proven false, but it's actually the opposite--that I'm something Dao deems hostile --then... what the fuck do I even do then?! I don't get it, though. It's clear that the system produces things of Dao, which was like my central thesis of the 'I'm connected to Dao' theory. Is it sort of like a hijacking concept to 'corrupt' it from within? Am I some evil presence that's meant to corrupt Dao?! Alright, enough of the stray thoughts. There's no way in hell I'd know.

The only 'guide' the system ever gave me is to simply gather Disciples, farm points, and make them stronger. It never gave me the purpose, the reason, the point of it, or the end goal of the potential army of supercharged goblins. Though, I suppose, if one were to want to wage war against Dao, raising an entire army of supernatural geniuses who are so devout to their Master it's borderline cult-ish... well, it sure is an option. It sure is an option.