Hogar de los espíritus - Capítulo 20
We put on our gas masks and decided to go down into the cave to explore the tomb, and while we were at it, rescue the three souls and seven spirits of the white ape monster. If we could bring it back to life, it would be a way for us to repay it.
Shirley Yang shone her wolf-eye flashlight on the cave ceiling. I was in front, and Fatty followed closely behind. The two of us kept waving our ruby daggers as we slowly climbed down the steps.
As I approached the bottom of the cave, I used the luminous pearl to illuminate my surroundings. The cave was quiet, clearly a dark chamber. It wasn't very large, and in the center of the chamber was a stone coffin, its black lid swarming with eerie, ghostly blood bats.
I quickly gestured to Fatty and Shirley Yang at the top of the cave to be quiet.
I tested the floor; there were no hidden mechanisms or secret passages. Fatty and I slowly descended, side by side, and suddenly shouted, simultaneously brandishing our ruby daggers at the ghostly blood bats on the stone coffin. Crimson waves of sword energy immediately surged within the room, creating a powerful and imposing sight.
Unfortunately, the black bats didn't react at all; they neither struggled to take flight nor turned into black dust.
Fatty and I rushed over, and upon closer inspection, we realized it was just an image carved onto the stone coffin. It had given us quite a scare. Seeing that there was no further movement, Shirley Yang, long knife in hand, also climbed down.
We circled the black sarcophagus and discovered that it was covered with carvings of ghostly blood bats. The carvings were incredibly realistic and lifelike, with large and small evil eyes that seemed to come alive, staring at us greedily from all angles, sending chills down our spines.
The room contained only a single platform stone coffin. The walls and floor were seamless, and after searching for a long time, we couldn't find where the ghostly blood bats had come from. Aside from the opening above our heads, we couldn't find any other entrance into the tomb. It seemed that without opening this black bat stone coffin, we wouldn't be able to figure out the tomb's entrance.
The three of us stood on high alert. Fatty and I focused our energy, exhaled deeply, and together used our left hands to slowly push open the stone coffin lid, which was covered with ghostly blood bat sculptures.
There was no movement inside the coffin. Shirley Yang, holding a luminous pearl, was helped by Fatty and me to approach the coffin. We stood on the stone sarcophagus and peered inside. We saw that the coffin contained the mummified carcass of a gray wolf. At the bottom of the coffin, near the wolf's head, was carved a ghostly blood bat statue the size of a washbasin. Apart from that, there was nothing else in the coffin.
"Strange, how can it be a wolf carcass?" the fat man exclaimed.
He bent down and used his ruby dagger to pry open the wolf carcass. The carcass was so light it floated to the corner of the coffin in an instant; there was nothing underneath. The fat man cursed his bad luck and turned to leave the coffin. Suddenly, our feet slipped, as if some mechanism had been triggered. The black bat statue at the bottom of the coffin, the size of a washbasin, spun counter-clockwise, and a stream of dark red liquid suddenly gushed from its mouth—blood. The coffin quickly filled with a layer of blood, the wolf carcass floating in it.
At that moment, I felt a sharp pain in my hand. Looking down, I saw that the black bat statue on the coffin had actually poked its head out and bit my hand, sucking my blood fiercely.
I knew something was wrong, so I raised my knife and swung it. The statue was immediately beheaded and turned to ashes. Taking advantage of the moment, Shirley Yang, Fatty, and I turned around and jumped off the stone coffin, retreating together to the corner of the wall.
The black bat statues covering the coffin twisted their carved stone heads, squeaking and chirping, as they slowly emerged from the stone carvings. Starting from the head, they moved down to the body, wings, claws, and tail, emerging like cicadas shedding their shells. A living, ghostly blood bat crawled out completely, moved around on the coffin a couple of times, and then suddenly flapped its wings and swooped down towards our heads.
Shirley Yang and Fatty were completely terrified by this thing. Fatty stammered and asked me, "Old—Old—Hu—, is this—is—a stone turning into a bat, or—a bat turning into a stone?"
I told Fatty, stop talking nonsense and get the three of you together—two girls plus one girl—once again!
I kicked the fat man, pulled Shirley Yang behind me, and the two of us charged forward, brandishing our ruby daggers. The blades clashed, instantly creating a crimson aura that filled the air with murderous intent. The ghostly blood bats, just emerging from the stone coffin, shrieked in agony, turning into clumps of black dust that drifted to the ground.
The terrifying thing is that as soon as one layer of ghostly blood bats was wiped out, another layer immediately multiplied on the stone carvings of the coffin. I immediately realized something was wrong; the black bat stone carvings on the coffin were clearly the ghostly spirits of the blood bats residing there. Even if we didn't eat or drink and killed for three years, it would be futile if we didn't destroy these stone carvings.
Fatty and I wielded our twin swords together, enveloped in a crimson glow that couldn't extinguish the countless ghostly blood bats swarming the sky. I had no choice but to tell Shirley Yang to protect herself, and then, taking advantage of the gaps in the crimson light, I used my longsword to shatter the heads of the black bat stone statues on the coffin one by one.
Sure enough, every time Shirley Yang chopped off a stone skull, the ghostly blood bats spawned from the black bat statue would screech and scream as they flew through the air, turning into black dust and falling to the ground.
Fatty and I protected Shirley Yang as she slashed swiftly with her sword, quickly chopping off most of the stone head of the black bat statue on the coffin lid. Shirley Yang was also exhausted, with beads of sweat appearing on her face. Fortunately, the steel of the pirate longsword was still quite good, remaining as sharp as ever.
I took the opportunity to explain to Shirley Yang and Fatty that these ghostly blood bats are actually a kind of Yin entity, unlike living creatures in nature that are produced through generations of embryonic reproduction.
Legend has it that the ghostly blood bats are the manifestations of the resentment of innocent souls who perished tragically in the Avici Hell. However, they are different from the three souls and seven spirits of a human. They are merely a strong belief that has no physical form to be sealed, so it is stuck under the Bridge of Helplessness and cannot cross the river to be reborn with the three souls and seven spirits. Therefore, it drifts in the underworld, and after a while, it gathers into the shape of black bats. Most of them are subdued and kept as pets by the ghost messengers of hell.
These creatures, having been tainted by yin energy for too long, harbor lingering resentment and are bloodthirsty to the point of death. Once entangled, escape is nearly impossible; they will fight to the death. Therefore, some tomb builders create physical statues of ghostly blood bats from special yin materials, then use soul-binding spells to lure them inside with blood, sealing them away as a terrifying security mechanism to prevent intruders. The moment a drop of blood touches them, these bound ghostly blood bats immediately break free from the statue and relentlessly pursue them for miles. The only solution is to destroy the stone sculptures they inhabit, thus eradicating them at their source.
With my analysis, Shirley Yang and Fatty's confidence soared. We circled the coffin, quickly slaying all the black bat stone statues. The ghostly blood bats flying in the air also dwindled in number. Seeing victory in sight, we couldn't help but get excited.
Volume One: The Ancient Tomb at the Cape - Chapter Forty-Five: Rebirth from the Ashes at the Ancient Tomb at the Cape
Suddenly, the coffin shattered on all sides, and a soul-shaking low howl came from inside. Then, a huge gray wolf leaped out.
The giant wolf's eyes were blood red, gleaming with a sharp light. Its long tail swept across the ground, its limbs pawed at the ground, and it lowered its head to let out a long howl towards the coffin. The fur on its body stood on end, revealing it to be the thousand-year-old wolf corpse inside the coffin.
After the howl, a giant ghostly blood bat, the size of a washbasin, burst out of the coffin with a whoosh.
The giant black bat silently swooped down above the giant wolf's head, its fleshy wings flapping wildly, making it as powerful as an eagle. Its blood-red, black-rimmed eyes glared as it leaped up and down, its gaze fixed menacingly on us, alongside the giant wolf.
I suddenly realized, this is a wolf demon corpse!
Legend has it that in ancient times, in the Black Forest by an inland lake in the west, lived a kind of werewolf. In its normal state, it had the form of a human, but every full moon, this werewolf would undergo a physical transformation. Thick wolf fur would grow all over its body, its face would elongate into a wolf's head, and it would leap and run on all fours, its wolfish nature unleashed. It would pounce on people and eat beasts, heading straight to the inland lake in the Black Forest, gazing at the moon and howling, absorbing the moon's essence, and gathering in packs. Only at dawn the next day, when the moon had set, would it transform back into human form, scattering back into the human population, and resume its normal life.
Because of their great harm to humans, Western religions regard werewolves as evil monsters among humans, and without distinguishing right from wrong, they do not hesitate to use spells and magic to strangle and behead them, striving to exterminate them as a warning to others.
Later, some esoteric sorcerers, based on the ferocious nature of werewolves, transformed captured adult werewolves into wolf bodies, hid talismans in their seven orifices, and sealed their three souls and seven spirits within their bodies. They then threw these werewolves into the blood of seven seven-month-old infants for forty-nine days and nights, further fueling their bloodthirsty nature. They then sealed them with adipocere and subjected them to forty-nine cycles of yin winds to create mummies. These mummies were then buried in inauspicious burial sites within the tomb of their master. Upon encountering blood, they would revive, and even if killed, they would not die. They were extremely ferocious, and anyone who entered the tomb would undoubtedly die.
The wolf demon corpse lowered its head and shook it, its body suddenly growing four feet larger, resembling the size of a fierce tiger, with fangs growing out of its mouth, howling wildly at the sky incessantly.
Upon hearing the howl, the ghostly giant bat in mid-air suddenly stopped leaping up and down, flapped its wings, and pounced on us like lightning.
Fatty and I were already on edge. Seeing this, we tensed up and quickly joined forces, brandishing our ruby daggers to attack the ghostly blood bats.
Unexpectedly, this giant ghost bat, despite its enormous size, was incredibly agile, darting up and down, advancing and retreating with lightning speed, maneuvering effortlessly amidst the crimson blades. Fatty and I were no match for it, not to mention the wolf demon corpse lurking directly in front of us, ready to pounce.
Before anyone could speak, the wolf demon corpse, under the cover of the ghostly giant bats, howled and pounced like an arrow. Shirley Yang, however, reacted swiftly, wielding her longsword with a series of thrusts and twists, the snowflakes of her blade blocking the wolf demon corpse's sneak attack.
The giant ghostly blood bat had silently swooped down from above. Fatty and I panicked and threw our twin swords, striking it squarely in the chest. The giant ghostly bat squeaked in agony and shrank by half in the blink of an eye. The twin swords fell to the ground, gleaming brightly.
But then the giant bat struggled to fly away, and the wolf demon corpse, seeing this, lowered its head and howled. Just as the ghostly giant bat pounced on the giant wolf's head and fell with a thud, the wolf demon corpse suddenly opened its blood-red maw, tilted its head back, caught the black bat, and swallowed it whole.
Fatty and I quickly bent down and picked up the ruby dagger. Fatty laughed when he saw this, saying that the old wolf was so hungry that it would even swallow the ghost bat.
I waved my hand, and saw the giant wolf, after swallowing the ghostly giant bat, stand upright and howl, then bend over and roll on the spot. In the blink of an eye, it sprouted wings, fleshy wings like fans, and took flight. It spun in the air for a moment and then rushed towards us.
Its wings were unmistakably those of the Ghost Giant Bat, featherless, with clearly visible bloodlines, and powerfully striking. This creature instantly transformed into a flying wolf, a hybrid of a wolf demon corpse and a Ghost Giant Bat.
Seeing the fierce flying wolf pounce down in mid-air, Shirley Yang, Fatty, and I were terrified. We scrambled and rolled, and the three of us fled its attack range in a sorry state.
Fatty and I swung our swords together, but the red light from our ruby daggers had no effect on the flying wolf. It roared and charged at us, breaking through the red light.
We had no choice but to use the malfunctioning ruby dagger as a weapon, slashing left and right to fend off the flying wolf's long fangs and sharp claws. As for the fleshy wings that came flying at us, we could only treat them as a refreshing breeze.
In no time, Fatty and I were rolling on the ground, utterly disheveled. At that moment, we both regretted that our parents hadn't given us two more legs. Under Flying Wolf's attack, Fatty and I were covered in dirt and grime, and our ruby daggers were no match for Shirley Yang's pirate longsword.
It's truly a case of every bit of strength bringing strength, and every bit of weakness bringing danger. Shirley Yang, at this moment, is playing the role of a female hero who is no less capable than any man. She brandishes her long sword and demonstrates the rapier fighting techniques she learned in the West to Flying Wolf.
She thrust and slashed, then parried and flicked upwards, even incorporating a new trick of rolling snowflakes behind her head. Her swordsmanship was fierce and fluid, displaying the unrestrained and grand style of a master calligrapher. Every gesture and movement revealed the demeanor of a fencing expert.
Fatty and I rolled down behind Shirley Yang and couldn't help but clap and cheer for her.
Shirley Yang grew increasingly smug, wielding her longsword like snowflakes, swirling in circles of light as she slowly advanced towards Flying Wolf. Fatty and I, brandishing our ruby daggers, stood guard closely on either side of her, ready to protect her from any unforeseen events.
Seeing that it was not gaining the upper hand after a while, the flying wolf suddenly became impatient. It raised its head and howled into the sky, its fleshy wings flapping as it landed on the ground. Then, it shrugged its body, its fangs snapped back, and it spewed out a cloud of black mist from its mouth.
Within the mist, the heads of ghostly blood bats could be seen moving about, their cries a chaotic mess, clearly filled with immense resentment. Anyone who touched them would be haunted by vengeful spirits, suffering either death or serious injury.
I suddenly called out to Fatty and quickly pulled Shirley Yang behind me. Fatty and I flanked the attack from both sides, brandishing our ruby daggers to meet the black mist. Luckily, it was just as I expected. The black mist immediately dissipated upon encountering the red blade's edge, losing its effectiveness.
The flying wolf spewed out two streams of black mist, which were dispersed by me and Fatty wielding our knives, enraging it and causing it to jump around wildly.
Seeing this, the fat man's spirits returned. He pointed his knife at the old wolf and laughed mockingly, "How about it, you beast? You've met your fat grandpa, haven't you been beaten back to your true form? Use whatever magic weapons you have!"
Before the words were finished, the flying wolf leaped onto the coffin, its head touching the thick coffin wall, and suddenly it spewed out a large ball of raging flames.
This was quite an unexpected turn of events. I hurriedly kicked the fat man in front of me to the ground, then rolled to the side, barely avoiding the large ball of flame.
I suddenly remembered Shirley Yang behind me and quickly turned around and shouted. Luckily, Shirley Yang was agile enough to duck and dodge. The ball of blue flame crashed violently into the back wall, scattering with a crack, scorching a large section of the stone before crashing to the ground and turning into dust. The sight gave us a fright.
Just as I was about to secretly feel lucky, a gust of wind swept overhead, and the flying wolf silently swept past me and Fatty. Before Shirley Yang could even raise her head, its four claws pierced deep into her back, and it carried her away like a gust of wind.
I yelled in panic, and Fatty and I scrambled to our feet. We followed Flying Wolf out of the dark room, through the living quarters, and down the hidden door. We heard Shirley Yang yelling ahead as we chased after her along the spiderweb-like passageway.
Thankfully, the fat man grabbed his backpack in the panic, held up the luminous pearl, and chased after me with all his might.
The flying wolf, dragging Shirley Yang, a grown woman, wasn't flying very fast, maintaining a distance of over ten meters ahead of me and Fatty as it flew relentlessly. I had no idea where this strange creature was taking Shirley Yang.
Fatty and I were panting heavily as we chased after him, winding our way through the maze of passageways, almost to the point of fainting from the tension. The tunnels were intricate and winding, with one fork after another, and so many intersections that it was impossible to tell which way was which. Fatty and I only knew to keep following Shirley Yang's cries for help.
About half an hour later, the Flying Wolf finally stopped fleeing. Fatty and I rounded a corner and saw it dragging Shirley Yang, flapping its fleshy wings, standing in mid-air, looking down at the large, chessboard-like hub in front of it with grief and indignation.
The upper part of the hub is filled with countless meteorite planets, a dazzling array of stars. In the pale blue Milky Way, a full moon hangs obliquely in the sky, surrounded by the seven largest and brightest meteorite stars arranged like an arch. These seven stars clearly form a huge Big Dipper formation, which is the "Ziwei Dou Shi" matrix.
Below the hub, in the corresponding position of the seven-star matrix, a cluster of twelve meteorite constellations is arranged in a semi-elliptical pattern. Unfortunately, the largest meteorite constellation in the center is mischievously inlaid with half of a moldy, rotten straw sandal stained with the corpses of dead insects, making it look extremely incongruous.
The flying wolf flew into a rage, spewing out a large ball of blue flame that instantly burned half of the tattered straw sandal to ashes. It turned its head, its eyes fixed intently on me and Fatty, seemingly poised to pounce and fight to the death.
Fatty and I, gripping our ruby daggers, immediately tensed up. For a moment, neither side moved. I couldn't help but whisper, "Shirley Yang, who's been keeping her head down and silent under the flying wolf's claws, are you hurt?"
Shirley Yang kept her head down, secretly making an OK sign with her left hand, and then quietly pointed at the flying wolf above her head, making a downward slashing gesture, indicating that we should attack the flying wolf.
Fatty and I yelled, and with both swords drawn, we swung them at the Flying Wolf, whose blood-red eyes were glaring in mid-air. The Flying Wolf bared its fangs and pounced on us.
Just then, Shirley Yang, who had been keeping her head down under its claws, suddenly swung her long sword back and slashed it hard on the flying wolf's right wing, instantly severing half of the thin fleshy wing.
Flying Wolf howled in pain, dropping Shirley Yang from its paws, and tumbled to the ground beside the hub, its half-fleshy wing flapping precariously. Fatty and I rushed out together to protect the fallen Shirley Yang.
The flying wolf glared fiercely at us, its injured right wing twitching a few times, and then, incredibly, a new fleshy wing sprouted from its flank. It seemed this creature truly was invulnerable, unkillable, even its fragile wing could regenerate. If this continued, we were unlikely to gain any advantage.
The flying wolf flapped its fleshy wings contentedly, then suddenly took flight and pounced on us. Shirley Yang, Fatty, and I dodged together, raising our knives to block it. We exchanged positions, and the flying wolf landed on the waist-high chessboard.
It bared its teeth, about to pounce, when suddenly it looked down. The pivot suddenly rotated clockwise a full circle, and the central full moon shone brightly, its fullness radiating a silver halo. Enveloped in the circular halo, the flying wolf couldn't help but howl to the sky, then with a flick of its head, it spewed out an extremely powerful ball of blue flame.
In a flash, the flying wolf transformed within the halo of light, a human head suddenly sprouting from its body, vaguely resembling the head of someone we had seen before. It leaped off the halo, still resembling a gigantic flying wolf, and with a whoosh, it passed through us, then without looking back, dashed into the depths of the tunnel.
Shirley Yang cried out urgently, "Quick, follow it! Something's happened!"
Fatty and I grabbed Shirley Yang and followed Flying Wolf deeper into the tunnel. We ran for who knows how long, the tunnel becoming increasingly chaotic, turning left and right, until suddenly we reached the end of the tunnel.
The flying wolf stopped abruptly, turned around abruptly, and bared its teeth, howling at us. The three of us involuntarily took a few steps back. The flying wolf turned back and rammed violently against the corner of the wall. Suddenly, a hidden passage appeared in the corner at the end of the passage. The flying wolf slipped inside and quickly ran away.
We quickly gave chase and ran into the dark passage. Under the illumination of the luminous pearl, the flying wolf suddenly shrank as the passage narrowed, transforming into a small beast the size of a gray dog and running forward.
I, wielding a ruby dagger, chased after Flying Wolf, with Shirley Yang following behind, holding a luminous pearl to light the way, and Fatty bringing up the rear as a lookout. As we ran, the passage grew narrower and narrower, forcing the three of us to squeeze through sideways. The puppy-like Flying Wolf was nowhere to be seen.
After walking uphill for more than an hour, we finally squeezed out of the dark passage. In the light of the luminous pearl, I found that the exit was in a dark and damp forest. The forest was so dense that we could only see tree trunks and not branches or leaves.
I glanced sideways and saw slivers of moonlight filtering down from about half a mile away, which meant we had reached the ground. Excited, I pulled Shirley Yang and the group of fat men sideways toward the nearest, visible light.
A cool breeze swept through the woods, and the fresh, damp air invigorated us, making us eager to escape the dark forest.
Fortunately, there were no obstacles on this stretch of the journey. I was the first to squeeze out of the woods and stand in the clearing where the moonlight dappled the ground. I couldn't help but want to sing out loud, praising our great motherland.
I looked up and saw a full moon shining brightly overhead, like a shimmering silver plate gradually rising above my head. It must have been midnight. The surrounding woods were completely silent and still, as if everything was asleep. In this summer night on the island in May or June, only a gentle breeze calmed the hearts of night travelers.
We all tilted our heads back, closed our eyes, and quietly enjoyed the wonderful early summer night breeze on the island. No one spoke for a long time.
Shirley Yang asked me softly, "Hu Bayi, what's the deal with that half-rotten straw sandal on the pivot chessboard?"
I chuckled, gazing at the rustling trees in the distance, and said, "Didn't the tomb keeper's diary say that the native shaman destroyed the 'Purple Star Dipper' matrix' of the tomb? The semi-elliptical constellation below that 'matter' has a story and significance."
The Book of Sui, Treatise on Astronomy, states that "there are twelve general stars in the sky, which govern military affairs. The central large star represents the celestial general, while the smaller stars outside represent the soldiers. The movement of the general star is an omen of military action." Historically, every dynastic change has always begun with military unrest before the ruling order can be overturned and a new regime established.
Unexpectedly, the "Purple Star Dipper" tomb matrix, painstakingly set up by the legendary hero Spartacus, was ultimately destroyed by a morally corrupt native wizard. In the crucial central hub controlling the entire situation, the general constellation representing military power was replaced with a tattered straw sandal. How could he even think of that? What a damn eyesore! What a disgrace! I shook my head with a wry smile.
I glanced down and realized that my shadow on the ground had shrunk to my heels; it was mid-moon.
Suddenly, a familiar long howl rang out overhead—it was Flying Wolf. I was startled and, holding Shirley Yang and Fatty, retreated behind a nearby tree, gripping my ruby dagger and looking up.
Suddenly, the flying wolf had leaped halfway up the dense forest—no, not dense forest, but a gigantic shadow, towering and overwhelming, clearly the island's king tree—the Bodhi tree of Buddhism. It turned out that the secret exit of Spartacus's tomb was actually built within the root system of the Bodhi tree king, one of the seven energy-gathering points. Truly a wondrous and unbelievable idea.
However, I can't understand how the flying wolf, which has now turned back to the size of a tiger, knows the secret passage of the tomb.
On a branch halfway up the Bodhi tree overhead, the Flying Wolf howled madly at the moon, one howl after another, each one filled with grief and indignation, reaching the far reaches of the sky. Was this guy absorbing the essence of the full moon?