Chapter 127: Song of the Twin Gods pt. 8

Hū—

The ashes from the burning fire talismans, like scattered petals, were swept away by the wind, drifting past their faces. Little Luo Xu remarked, "There’s wind, a scent like Wenle isn't dead yet!"

"That's right. While we were talking, He has been listening. The wind keeps blowing because that’s His breath," Ming Zhuo said, staring into the sky. "Those are his exhalations."

Hū—

A faint breeze brushed past, causing the fur on the silver beast's tail in Little Luo Xu's arms to stand on end, before it all fell to one side under the wind's pressure. Reacting swiftly, he immediately judged the position of the Fragrant God from the breeze, raised two fingers, and slid them towards the other direction, commanding, "Bind Clamatiy!"

Luo Xu rarely recited the words when casting incantations, but being young and more focused on swordsmanship while serving in the Heavenly Sea, Little Luo Xu’s proficiency in the "manji" fire curse wasn't yet fully honed. Therefore, he still needed to recite the incantation aloud which allowed him to harness spiritual power.

As the incantation ended, a sudden flash of silver light appeared, like a whip of fire, curling in mid-air, and remarkably, it managed to ensnare something invisible.

"I caught it! But I just saw Huimang swallow it whole earlier. Was the one that got eaten a fake?"

"It wasn’t fake. Whenever Huimang devours something, I can feel it. Everything Hui Mang consumes dissolves into spiritual power and transfers to me." Ming Zhuo's fingers, which had loosened, curled back around the chain, yanking it forcefully. "Stop daydreaming. Get up and do your job! You didn’t finish eating!"

Hui Mang’s hunched back arched once more, like a tiger preparing to pounce. It leapt forward, using all four hands to grasp the invisible entity, gnawing at it madly.

The sounds of chewing echoed loudly, and Ming Zhuo's throat filled with the taste of blood—this was his secret. Ever since he and Huimang had been bound by the Blood Shackle Curse, whenever Hui Mang ate anything, whether human or god, the sensation and taste would be vividly transmitted to him.

"Ǒu!"(1)

On the other side, little Ming Zhuo twisted his body, leaning into Luo Xu’s arms, dry heaving. The ceiling of the bed chamber began to ooze with a foul-smelling liquid. His eyes widened in horror as he clutched tightly at Luo Xu's sleeve, exclaiming in disgust, "It's happening again!"

The scent of rotting flesh filled the air as the Fragrant God's bones and flesh, caught between Hui Mang’s teeth, broke apart like a decayed fruit, with fishbone-like strands mixed in. Blood trickled from the tip of Hui Mang’s tongue and between its teeth, dripping down its throat…

The curse marks on Ming Zhuo’s body that had just receded began to crawl back. The veins on his hand, which was gripping the chain, bulged as he growled through gritted teeth, unable to bear it any longer—

"It stinks!" Little Ming Zhuo clutched at his throat, scratching red marks into his skin, his voice shrill and frantic. "It stinks to death!"

Yet the spiritual power kept surging like tidal waves, flooding in layer after layer. Ming Zhuo slowly raised his head, the electricity crackling between his fingers as thunder rumbled in the sky with each breath.

"Stop eating," little Ming Zhuo's pale face flushed with a sickly red as he gripped himself tightly, his whole body trembling. "My meridians are about to burst open… Ah!"

The human body is merely a vessel for spiritual power, incapable of absorbing it as gods do. Even gods themselves require time to dissolve a powerful opponent after consumption.

Ming Zhuo coldly commanded, "Eat faster."

Little Ming Zhuo's thin body was already hunched over, as if about to vomit his guts out. His amber eyes glared at the ground, and in a hoarse voice, he pleaded, "…Stop eating!"

The chain clanked as Hui Mang paused, lowering its neck, seemingly listening.

Eat faster.

Eat quickly.

Eat—

Stop eating.

The urge to vomit overwhelmed him.

Vomit—

"Hui Mang," Ming Zhuo called.

"Hui Mang," little Ming Zhuo echoed.

Hui Mang’s drooping white silk ribbon fluttered in the wind as it lifted its body. The moonlight passed through its chest—it was hollow. Its heart had been ripped out long ago, left in the past, consumed by its own son. The son’s strength surged uncontrollably, nearly killing him with the pain.

To save his son from dying of pain, Ming Han had devised a method: a curse like a yoke, binding Huimang and his son together. This way, Hui Mang’s overwhelming spiritual power could be retained, while the son could serve as a vessel that would grow over time. From then on, Hui Mang became a half-dead "spirit," and his son became a half-dead "human."

This blood shackle curse wasn't Ming Han’s original creation. He had learnt it from the Ming clan’s secret arts, he first tested on other gods and then slightly modified it. Finding it amusing that Hui Mang and his son were bound by blood, Ming Han decided to give the curse a new name: "Blood Shakle Curse."

When little Ming Zhuo first bore the curse, he was too young and weak. To help him grow properly, Ming Han devised a second plan: to create a shifting formation, turning the palace into Hui Mang’s "stomach," with little Ming Zhuo inside it. As long as Hui Mang was fed regularly, they could control Ming Zhuo’s capacity as a vessel.

Thus, little Ming Zhuo had never experienced such a torrent of spiritual power before. It rushed into his body, making his nose and mouth bleed. If he were truly a porcelain vessel, he would have already begun to crack.

At that moment, little Ming Zhuo heard a "ding" sound—the ring of a coin being tossed. His chest felt a sudden weight as a long, slender hand pressed against it.

Luo Xu said, "Banishment."

As mentioned before, Luo Xu rarely recited incantations, so anything that made him speak aloud must be incredibly powerful.

A manji-shaped mark glowed on little Ming Zhuo’s chest, sending out a faint ripple of silver light that expanded around them. The flood of spiritual power instantly came to a halt, and the surroundings fell silent. At that moment, not even a god could approach little Ming Zhuo.

This should have been a moment of great relief, but amidst the strange fragrance lingering in the air, the forbidden power also blocked out spiritual energy. On the other side, Ming Zhuo's fingers, ready to summon a thunder spear, suddenly found themselves empty.

Ding!

The curse marks on Ming Zhuo's face faded, and not only was Hui Mang sealed, but even Ming Zhuo’s own spiritual power was suppressed.

A gentle breeze passed by as the Fragrant God, still unseen, quietly curved its lips into a smile, finally revealing its silent grin.

The Author Has Something to Say

The small buns will make up for this chapter tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!

The Translator has Something to Say

And now we are caught up… but there has been no update from T97 for a long time… I will review the volume 2 translation and polish it while we wait for her to continue (I hope she is okay!!!!), thank you for your patience.

Foot Notes

1. 呕 (Ǒu) is the sound of vomiting or to vomit.