Life and Death

The tribe began to pay close attention to these rotting creatures.

These rotting creatures differed most from their living forms in one thing: light.

They emitted a faint glow.

The pale blue mycelium clinging to their bodies gave off a hazy luminescence.

At night, this light was especially pronounced.

This pale blue forest seemed to be lit up at night, radiating a dreamlike, illusory color, becoming a sight unlike any other in the darkness.

People were awed by this mysterious spectacle, and felt even more reverence for the God-Given Flower and the Rot Spirits.

"They're really beautiful."

Ned looked at the pale blue forest and praised it so.

He simply found it all extremely beautiful.

Nothing more.

Soon.

These pale blue rotting creatures began to move slowly, limping and staggering.

They started doing things that left people baffled.

The rotting brown rats used their noses.

Sniffing here, sniffing there, pawing at various plants with their claws.

Even if they found berries or insects, they wouldn't eat them—just sniffed with their noses and let go.

Sometimes.

A few foul-smelling rotting birds stood on tree branches like statues.

They did nothing in particular.

Just stared with hollow pupils at every move the working people made.

Like curious children learning something.

But this still scared the tribespeople half to death.

"Don't be afraid, they're all under the control of the God-Given Flower. There must be some deeper meaning to this."

Richie calmed everyone down.

Soon, the God-Given Flower gained a name—the Rot Spirit Flower.

Meaning the flower that controlled rotting creatures.

Richie forbade anyone from capturing or disturbing these Rot Spirit creatures.

He only asked people to observe everything as much as possible.

The power of the Rot Spirit Flower bestowed by the gods this time was unlike before.

It could control dead creatures.

This power was something almost completely beyond reason.

The tribe had to treat it with even greater caution, to avoid misinterpreting the true intent of the gods' gift.

People needed more time to observe and understand all of this.

Just as people were immersed in observing this wonder, speculating on the true meaning of the gods bestowing this flower—

Something suddenly broke the peace.

"Let me in."

A white-haired old man fell to his knees with a thud, kowtowing to the guards.

On his back.

He carried a child dressed in linen clothes.

Everyone could see that the child lying on the old man's hunched back was already dead.

The bluish complexion and swollen skin made that clear.

The guards quickly helped the old man up.

"Elder Kex, please don't do this."

"Don't make things hard for us. If the chieftain finds out, we'll be punished."

The guards said this with worried expressions.

But they didn't dare to stop this highly respected elder.

Elder Kex was the oldest wise man in the tribe.

Even in the era when that sinner held power, this elder had secretly rescued many tribespeople and was deeply beloved by all.

It was Elder Kex who had once guided the people to find the Green Fruit in the Mangrove Forest.

In the end, facing Elder Kex, whose forehead was nearly bleeding from kowtowing, the guards could only helplessly make way for him.

He walked into the pale blue grove, carrying the dead child, and gently laid him on the ground.

Kex looked at the Rot Spirit Flower.

His face showed an expression of piety and longing.

A day passed.

On that child, no miraculous blue hue appeared.

In truth.

From the very moment this Rot Spirit Flower descended.

Someone had already secretly placed the blue spores floating in the air into the bosoms of the dead tribesmen.

Attempting to "awaken" the deceased.

But all such attempts failed without exception.

The blue spores of the Rot Spirit Flower would not parasitize people either.

Yet even so.

Kex still knelt there.

Only his gaze was filled with torment.

This matter eventually reached the cave.

Richie came walking with a cane.

The sound of the thick wooden staff striking the ground was still clear and forceful, slow yet steady, falling into the ears of the guards who kept their heads lowered.

In the deep-set eye sockets of this aged chieftain, a hawk-like gaze swept over the guards below, who dared not meet his eyes.

Richie's voice was old yet full of authority.

"Did I not say, no one is to approach?"

The guards were silent as cicadas in winter, not daring to lift their heads.

Richie told everyone to wait outside.

He walked into the grove himself.

The wind howled through the trees.

The pale blue glow swayed in the forest, as if stirred by the breeze.

Richie immediately saw the child lying on the pale blue grass.

He bent down, his withered fingers brushing through the hair of the child on the ground.

A piece of shriveled skin flopped loosely off.

The flesh had been gnawed by insects until hardly any intact part remained.

Richie sighed and stood up.

"Kex, take your child back and bury him properly."

The old man still knelt there in a daze.

As if he hadn't heard Richie's voice.

"Kex, you are the most respected elder and wise man in the tribe. You should understand all this, and you should not have acted so rashly."

Richie leaned on his cane.

He looked at the kneeling old man, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Or are you trying to make the gods pity you, to beg and pray for something impossible from them?"

Hearing this, the old man trembled all over.

Richie's heavy voice overpowered the wind in the forest.

"Answer me now."

"Are you going to let Vina rest in peace?"

"Or are you going to let him lie here, hoping that before the insects devour him completely, there might still be a chance for him to become one of those moving shells?"

The old man finally broke.

As if the last shred of hope had been drained from him, he collapsed there.

He fell to the ground like a man dying of thirst in the desert, his lips barely moving as he murmured:

"Why."

"He could have grown up well."

"Vina told me that Guard Captain Barlow praised him, said he would become a strong warrior one day, take his place, and become a guard by your side. That had always been his dream."

Richie heard the old man's words.

His expression shifted slightly.

He leaned on his cane and stood there for a long time.

Only after a long while did he speak in a heavy tone:

"Was the first rule I established in the temple already forgotten by you?"

Richie did not look at Kex again.

He simply gazed out beyond the forest.

His eyes seemed to pierce through the trees.

Seeing a place far, far away.

Countless years ago.

He too had once harbored a trace of such desire.

He could understand.

But it was merely understanding.

"A believer's hands should hold up their faith, not spread open to beg and take."

Richie spoke, as if to the old man, and as if to himself.

"The gifts of the divine are never endless. No one may pray for infinite things or eternal years."

If there was anything in this world that was eternal.

Then what was eternal.

Was only the one supreme and almighty god.