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Chapter 47: The Feast
It was a black torrent, surging violently from the depths of the dark mine. In the sunlight, its activity intensified far beyond what it had been within the cavern. By the time it burst onto the surface, it had coalesced into something nearly solid—a grotesque sphere of flesh, an amalgamation of countless organs and limbs, writhing in agony as it bled profusely before being consumed by the subsequent waves of black liquid. More flesh congealed, more mouths formed to scream.
It was no longer purely black but closer to a sickly, fleshy hue. Rolling toward the center of the plaza, the mass drew in the endless streams of black water that followed, merging them into its form. It sprouted countless limbs, eyes, and mouths, each one horrifying in its own right. The creature howled, shrieked, laughed, and wept—all at once, in countless voices, speaking in countless tongues. Its myriad appendages feasted, excreted, and copulated indiscriminately. It shook the ground with its thrashing, pounding against the earth like a chaotic force unleashed.
This… this was no milk. How could anyone call this milk?
Li Xingyuan wanted to close his eyes. This monstrosity was a mockery of everything humanity held sacred—an affront to reason itself. To witness such a thing was to flirt with madness.
"Fellow citizens of Fengyuan Town!" Mine Director Shi raised his arms triumphantly, his graying hair catching the dim light as he grinned maniacally. "Receive the blessings of Di Mu!"
What were they planning to do?
Li Xingyuan didn’t know—and part of him resisted knowing what would come next.
The townsfolk moved forward willingly, rushing en masse toward the abomination. Hundreds of people swarmed the writhing mass, hacking at it with knives. The creature, composed entirely of black fluid, lacked any discernible means of attack—or if it did, they were too small to pose a threat to the frenzied crowd.
Perhaps it fought back, perhaps it bit and clawed, but its cries were drowned out by the chaos. Slowly, its voice grew muffled, almost mournful, as layer after layer of its body was torn apart by the villagers.
This… this monster was being devoured by humans.
Its limbs were ripped away, its organs gnawed on. It was being systematically dismantled, consumed piece by piece. Its chaotic form disintegrated under the assault, leaving behind not blood but thick, viscous black liquid that spilled across the ground. When separated into smaller quantities, the liquid lost its ability to form organs and simply disappeared into the snow.
The townsfolk laughed, their faces alight with satisfaction. Li Xingyuan crouched behind the ore pile, unwilling to watch the spectacle unfolding in the square—the “heroic” act of humanity conquering a monster.
Was this some kind of collective hallucination?
Li Xingyuan didn’t know. Perhaps. Or perhaps this was the logical conclusion of human rationality under the oppressive weight of the Black Tide—a descent into a grim, deranged fervor.
After awakening his strange abilities, Li Xingyuan had briefly thought himself monstrous. But now, he realized others might have walked this path long before him.
How many hours did the feast last? He couldn’t say. Time slipped through his fingers as the sky gradually darkened. Pressed against the mine wall, he dared not reveal himself to these… creatures who called themselves human.
Gradually, the townsfolk began to leave the square in twos and threes, carrying bags filled with something. They chatted animatedly, their laughter mingling with the sound of firecrackers set off to drive away the lingering stench of blood.
Summoning his courage, Li Xingyuan finally forced himself to look again at the square.
The monster—the gelatinous sphere of black liquid—had been utterly obliterated.
All that remained was a pool of black fluid staining the ground. Some of the older villagers attempted to collect it in bottles and jars, while children played nearby, setting off firecrackers and giggling. Old Liu and the others still hung bound to the platform, unmoving. Had they seen what transpired? If not, perhaps that was for the best.
Mine Director Shi had departed, leaving behind two masked figures swaying unsteadily atop the platform. A few men gathered around, smoking and chatting idly.
Li Xingyuan waited patiently until midnight, concealed behind the ore pile. Eventually, nearly everyone dispersed. Elderly villagers led children by the hand, clutching bottles filled with the black liquid. The remaining men retreated to a dormitory building nearby, likely staying behind as guards.
The two masked figures remained motionless, seemingly neither needing sustenance nor rest. Stationed on the platform, they kept watch over Old Liu and the others—presumably the next offering should Di Mu fail to provide her “milk.”
Li Xingyuan slowly descended from the ore pile. His legs trembled uncontrollably after hours of crouching, though he barely noticed. His back was drenched with sweat, and his arms quivered faintly. Fear clawed at him, urging him to flee this accursed place immediately.
But still, he moved toward the platform.
Li Xingyuan wasn’t prone to empathy, but as he crossed the once-bustling square, feeling the sticky, unnatural residue of black liquid clinging to his shoes, a chill ran down his spine. It felt as though an enormous, vengeful spirit lingered here—a chaotic, malevolent presence haunting the plaza.
He had thought himself immune to fear after all he’d seen—the colossal silver gate, the horrors of the mines—but now, doubt crept in.
The masked figure swayed slightly, its human-like eyes locking onto Li Xingyuan. Hidden beneath its grotesque exterior, other eye-like organs seemed to track his every move.
Li Xingyuan hadn’t expected the creature’s senses to be so acute. He had planned to slip past unnoticed, but instead, it merely stared at him, making no move to attack.
A tense silence stretched between them. Suddenly, Li Xingyuan recalled the earlier encounter in the mine tunnel. That creature hadn’t attacked him either—it had waited until he passed before striking others.
To test his theory, Li Xingyuan focused on the jumble of locks embedded in the figure and took another cautious step forward.
Click!
A tendril shot out from the creature’s body with lightning speed, hurtling directly toward Li Xingyuan.
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