Chapter 27: The Night Mountain Path

The mountain road was hard to travel at night. There were no stone slabs, no steps, only a simple dirt path.

The two of them trudged forward step by step. It was exhausting and tough on their shoes.

The caravan leader slipped several times along the way. His shoes were torn.

But the young girl beside him walked steadily.

Suddenly reminded of something, the caravan leader cast a sidelong glance at her feet.

He was curious about the construction of her feathered robe. Logically, the hem extended past her feet, even taller than she was. Walking should have meant stepping on the hem and tripping.

Yet the young girl never had any trouble.

Watching for a moment, observing her rough yet graceful stride, the caravan leader roughly understood.

She did step on the hem, but strangely, the hem slipped out from under her feet like a smooth fish.

It was as if the girl had no weight at all, as if she wasn’t stepping on the hem.

That was an illusion. The caravan leader knew the girl had weight. The problem lay with that special feathered robe. Perhaps it contained a subtle, unique minor spell that prevented the wearer from easily stepping on the hem.

That was the only explanation.

Having solved one mystery, the caravan leader seemed delighted. His steps became much lighter, driving away some of his inner fear.

They continued on with a torch. The torch only illuminated a small area, actually hindering their view of the distance. They couldn’t see what was ahead.

Suddenly, sounds came from afar. A dark shape darted through the area beyond the torchlight.

The caravan leader was startled and stopped.

The young girl looked back at him, meeting his eyes.

“Was that a demon or monster?” The caravan leader’s voice trembled.

The young girl shook her head. She hadn’t sensed any unusual creature yet. If something like the Dream-Eating Beast were in the dark, she would have seen it.

It was just a small animal.

They continued climbing the mountain. After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, they grew tired. They sat down to rest a bit, then got up and walked again.

The young girl occasionally took fruit from her storage ring to eat. She also shared one with the caravan leader.

Once the fruit entered his stomach, all his fatigue seemed to disperse. He immediately became energetic and full of strength.

They climbed on. Approaching dawn, the two reached their destination.

This hour was the most special time in folk ghost stories. It was as if ghosts and monsters all concentrated their appearances at this hour, as if they were strengthened during this time.

The caravan leader quietly asked about this as well.

The young girl nodded, acknowledging some of his claims.

Indeed, some demons and monsters grew stronger at this time. On certain special days, their power also increased.

Some demons and monsters relied on sunlight, mainly absorbing it.

Naturally, there were also those that absorbed moonlight.

Perhaps the two were the same, yet very different.

The two stood before the temple’s main gate, not yet entering. This small temple had no courtyard, just a single building.

The door was already broken. Many roof tiles had fallen off. Most of the items inside the temple were lost.

The young girl noticed something on the ground near the gate. The caravan leader noticed it too. Cautiously, he crouched down and picked it up for a look.

It was a shoe. Very old, patched, yet with hardly any dust. It had been left not long ago.

To confirm his suspicion, the caravan leader picked up the shoe and smelled it. Immediately, his stomach churned; he wanted to vomit.

The shoe had a very strong odor.

He looked at another item nearby. It was an extinguished torch.

He touched it with his hand. The torch still had a faint trace of residual warmth. It might have been left an hour ago, at most an hour and a half.

The caravan leader didn’t dare to speak. Cold sweat soaked his body.

The young girl crouched down, tucking her skirts under her legs, and also examined the shoe and the extinguished torch.

She reached the same conclusion as the caravan leader.

The young girl gripped her axe tightly and led the way into the small temple.

The caravan leader, meanwhile, lit two more torches. He hung one by the temple entrance, hung another inside the temple, and held one himself, illuminating the area.

Humans were drawn to light. Seeing light brought a sense of peace.

After lighting up the surroundings, he felt the urge to retreat again.

This time, his thoughts were much clearer. He felt some regret. The girl beside him was not an ordinary human; she had the ability to protect herself. But he was just an ordinary person, a merchant. How had he dared to come to this desolate mountain in the middle of the night?

At this moment, he even suspected the young girl beside him. He wondered if she was a fox spirit who could bewitch humans, making them do unbelievable things.

Even though he thought this, he didn’t harbor any malice. Even if the girl was a fox spirit, she was a good one, given how she had behaved along the way. The caravan leader had seen it all.

“What should we do?” The caravan leader lowered his voice, speaking in a falsetto to the young girl.

The young girl looked around the dilapidated temple. Her golden eyes, like instruments that could perceive all things, swept across the temple once, then looked outside.

Then she walked out of the temple without staying. She turned, went around the temple, and headed to the back.

The caravan leader continued to follow with his torch. This time he carried two, as backups.

After a short walk, the young girl stopped at a rock formation.

It seemed there was a hidden cave here.

No way? Go in? This place was clearly a major problem.

Furthermore, the caravan leader, though an ordinary person, could smell a thick, sticky, rancid odor drifting out of the cave. That meant the problem inside the cave was truly serious.

The young girl was about to enter when the caravan leader pulled her back.

She turned to look at him. Her golden eyes were oppressive, filled with what seemed like anger and resentment. She was furious.

The caravan leader quickly let go as the young girl entered the cave.

Alone outside the cave with his torch, he felt deeply awkward. There wasn’t even the sound of animals around, just the whoosh of the wind.

He couldn’t bear the fear of being alone in the dark any longer. He chose to enter the cave, chasing after the young girl.

He soon caught up. The young girl was walking slowly. She also held a torch.

Once they reunited, the young girl said nothing. She made a few gestures, then extinguished the torch.

The caravan leader did the same. The two were plunged into darkness. Fear gripped their hearts. He quickly grabbed the young girl’s shoulder. She didn’t shake off his hand.

Though it was ridiculous, only by doing this could the caravan leader gain some sense of security.

They continued groping their way forward in the cave. Their steps were light, afraid to make any loud noise.

The smell in the air grew stronger. The caravan leader could now identify what it was from the odor. His entire body trembled uncontrollably.

The young girl stopped. She took the caravan leader’s hand with her cold, soft hand, as delicate as boneless silk.

The caravan leader gradually calmed down. He gripped the extinguished torch tightly, treating it as a weapon.

They continued groping forward for a while. Gradually, a faint light appeared ahead, very far away.

They knew the destination was near. This was the place they were looking for. And what they were looking for was undoubtedly an evil thing.

The stench in the air was the smell of blood. It was so strong that even the caravan leader, an ordinary person, could smell it.

📚 Also on NHV Novels

The Gaze at the Tip of the Sword

BLFantasyPsychological

Read Now →
Not interested