Capítulo 1331: Chapter 171: Spectral Lu Li Syndro (Part 11)
The people I have hurt, those who died tragically, the priests and nuns, believers—I should pay the price for my cruel actions. No one is victorious in this tragedy; I, manipulated by delirium, committed unforgivable cris, and the noisy residents before the gallows wish for revenge out of pain. I understand them. My only regret is that I have not yet regained my mory; I don’t know my past, not even my na.
The repulsive leader holds up the Book of Mold; I guess they are nearing the end beside , ready to begin the execution. Because this leader is walking towards , wanting to personally execute this terrifying monster. The gloomy glow of the Book of Mold flickers strangely, and the frenzied blood coursing through my veins beats once more, causing to hallucinate.
But this ti, it’s a completely different scene. Not the storms, waves, ships, sailors I am familiar with, here I stand on solid ground, with a tranquil harbor behind . A young woman holds a child; they wear skirts of cheap fabric, yet finely tailored. A gust of wind blows, their skirts and flowing long hair like pigeons fluttering. I pressed my wide-brimd hat, squatted down to rub cheeks with the little girl, “When I’m not ho, rember to listen to Mommy.” Then stood up and looked at the woman, “Don’t weave by the oil lamp late at night.”
“You should be telling that to yourself,” the gentle woman said, helpless and worried, “Do you have to go? The broadcast says hurricanes are raging along that route…” I kissed her cheek, “This batch of goods must be delivered. Don’t worry, we’ll avoid the hurricane.”
“You could take leave or refuse, the crew won’t say anything…” I stopped my wife’s concern, feigning seriousness with a steady voice, “I’m the First Mate, even if the ship lacks a captain, it cannot lack .”
In the end, my wife couldn’t persuade , reluctantly tucking in my shirt, returning the kiss by my cheek, and watched step onto the plank bridge. I urged the port workers handling cargo to speed up, boarded my ship, ca to the deck, and saw two figures, one large and one small, still standing at the port.
“Return safely, dear!”
“Mommy and I will make your favorite pumpkin pie.”
The sea breeze blew soft calls; I took off my hat and tucked it under my arm, waving goodbye to my wife and child.
I awoke from the mory, the vast sea turning into an oppressive cave, the busy dock workers and sailors becoming cold outlines of mycelium, the mast beside turning into an approaching monstrous shadow. Suddenly, I realized that I’ve committed horrific slaughters; surely they won’t let live. Prior to this, I surely prepared to accept the price of punishnt, but now, with more mories restored, I don’t want to do so…
I want to live… I want to go back.
The mycelium shapes stopped in front of ; I don’t want to harm them, but I have no choice. I forcefully broke free from the binding mycelium ropes, lunging towards the leader who didn’t expect an attack, my arm tightening around his neck, dragging towards the gallows, “I just want to go ho! Let go! I won’t kill him!” I threatened the approaching mycelium, but they didn’t retreat, as if their language turned into a harsh, noisy buzz, and my words seed jumbled to them.
However, as I dragged the leader away from the gallows, rushing into the crowd, they retreated. I steered the leader towards the edge, where a wide, viscous flow of unclean matter seed to lead towards the Ocean Rift’s depths. That was my escape route; if I jumped into the river, with my swimming skills, I could quickly leave this town. Doing this might leave indelible scars on this town, but I have no choice…
I nearly succeeded. But just as I was steering the leader along the retreating crowd towards the path leading to the filthy river, the leader I controlled suddenly collapsed, lted, like a wilted sticky plant; foul, pitch-black mycelium wrapped around . What I could imagine was, the leader at this mont was clinging to , preventing from leaving and letting the residents rush in. He was a hero, I must admit this. “Let go… I don’t want to hurt you! I will leave here!” I shouted at the leader and around, but the originally scattered path was blocked again by mycelium, symbolizing the escape exit vanishing.
I could feel, with angry shouts and unwillingness, my heart pounding sharply; the frenzied blood flowing throughout made increasingly extre, descending into madness like an abyss. I grabbed the leader’s exposed throat, pulled out his spine bound with mycelium, swinging the terrifying spine as a weapon, yet it seed to I had rely snatched the leader’s cane. The leader, losing his cane, fell; I no longer held the leader, letting go of this poor old man. Without the hostage, more and more mycelium holding decaying light approached.
They should rightly launch revenge against , the executioner, but I have reasons not to surrender, swinging the spine to lash at the ones approaching; I could imagine, as the strong walnut wood fell, people scread, covering injured places and collapsing. But countless people squeezed in, the riverbank only a dozen ters away seeming like a chasm to . The unending entanglents made increasingly impatient, no longer primarily driving them away, increasingly fierce, the spine in my hand pounding at the repulsive heads in my sight.
Yet there were too many residents. Gradually, under the siege, I beca exhausted, skin torn by mycelium, body beaten to redness and swelling. The frantic blood accelerated its flow; I beca confused in distinguishing reality and delirium again,
Those knocking nearly unconscious, staggering, were not the residents, but ferocious, twisted aliens. Those biting behind were not little children, but deford dwarf mycelium monsters. What splattered was not blood, but viscous pus from bodies.
“You’re not human, are you?”
After an unimaginably fierce battle, covered in wounds, like wearing a mycelium cloak, I finally stepped onto the riverbank’s soft mud. With my last strength, I hurled the cane behind into the crowd, leaping into the rotting river, swept downstream by the viscous, gloomy river.
Only my judgnt was a bit off. In caves shrouded in fluorescent moss, I headed towards the town’s depths; ancient, ruined stone houses stood silently by the riverbanks, cold smiles mocking , the one who hard this town—the dark river didn’t carry away, instead bringing to the town’s center, flowing into a pool like an abyss, devoid of any light.
I erased from my mind the mory of “a lake at the town’s center,” obsessively, and necessarily believe here is a nest of evil monsters; only thus can I prevent the cold and harsh truth from shattering my sanity. I tried climbing onto the shore, the river pulling, preventing from leaving the consuming viscous sludge river. I bit it, tore it, escaped the never-seeing sunlight of the murky river.
Nothing can stop from going ho.
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