Chapter 43 — The Blood-Dripping Cave
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 6
As they drew nearer, they could make out the chamber more clearly. It was round, with the tunnel opening into its center, and opposite them, amazingly, another passage stretched further inward—so this was not the only end.
On the left side of the chamber stood two enormous stone statues. One had a kindly face and gentle eyes, standing with a smile, its robes carved so vividly they seemed to stir in the wind—somewhat resembling a Buddhist Guanyin Bodhisattva.
The other was utterly different: hideous and vicious, with a black face and demon horns, eight arms and four heads, and even a trickle of blood carved at the corner of its mouth, enough to make anyone who looked upon it shiver.
In front of the two statues was a stone table, with an incense burner upon it and several bundles of incense and candles beside it, all thickly coated in dust. In eight hundred years, it seemed no incense had ever been burned here.
As for the far end of the chamber, there were only a few prayer mats, tossed carelessly on the floor, and nothing else.
Zhang Qingyue took it all in, and as he was wondering at it, he saw Bili's expression turn solemn. She stepped forward, picked up a prayer mat, shook the dust from it, and placed it before the stone table beneath the statues. Then she took up the incense and candles from the table, struck a flame with the firestone from her bosom, lit them, and set them in the burner. She walked back to the mat and knelt down, her face full of reverence.
In the stone chamber, thin wisps of smoke rose slowly as she bowed low to the ground.
Zhang Qingyue stood behind her, and heard her voice echo through the chamber.
"Holy Mother of the Dark and Bright, Heavenly Slayer Ming Wang, your disciple of the forty-third generation of the Holy Cult, Bili, reverently pays homage. The Holy Cult has met with calamity and long lain in decline; countless followers have shed their blood and risked their lives, each falling to rise after, that the Holy Cult might rise again. I pray only that the Holy Mother and Ming Wang take pity on all living things, grant us blessing, raise up the Holy Cult once more, deliver all beings, and bring us together to ascend to the utmost bliss of undying joy!"
Zhang Qingyue thought for a moment and understood: these two statues must be the wicked gods worshiped by the Demonic Cult. He could not help a cold laugh, turned his head away, and did not look upon them again.