[Slow Travel] Assassin System - Mingguang

The great sacrifice of the Tartars begins at the darkest hour of night.

The night was dark and sinking in the sky, but countless fires were lit on the ground, shaking the white stone altar at the foot of the mountain bright red.

This vast land has already been crowded with people, and each tribe has already divided their respective territories. Under the restraint of the tribe, the order is well maintained.

Alatan held the torch aloft, and like the other hundreds of young Tartars, he stayed honestly among his tribe. Not far from him was a high pile of bonfires, and the strong smell of fireworks lingered.

"Here we come!" Bagen on the side showed a rare childish look, poked his head, and said excitedly, "Which tribe is Yada over there? Is she worshiping waterfowl? I haven't seen it yet... ..."

Hearing this, Alatan immediately looked over, and indeed saw a distinctive figure among a tribe not far away. It was a tall, strong and fit woman, wearing an exaggerated feather cloak, and wearing a feather high. Crown, face covered with black and white paint, looks serious and treacherous.

The Tartars believe in animism, and the priests also have their own preferences and inheritances. The "White Deer" is the beginning of the totem worshiped by the Longevity, and the rest of the animal worship is the branch after the "White Deer".

The Tartars gathered in front of the altar had already made their preparations, and the priests arrived one after another. With their arrival, the corresponding tribes also cheered one after another. The different costumes are mysterious and treacherous, full of inhuman texture, but they have the same characteristics-whether it is style, material or painting decoration, all of them imply the grassland creatures and ancestor worship.

No matter how solemn the sacrifice is, the priests from the tribe will definitely stand with their respective tribesmen. They don't need to create sanctity and authority through alienation. guide.

Alatan looked at all kinds of priests in a daze, but suddenly noticed a faint strangeness. This feeling came from the Mozhgrad department next to the green company. He didn't understand the reason for this abnormality. The priest of Zhigele has also arrived, looking eager to try in tiger skin...

"Don't stare there, there is indeed a problem with Mozhgrad." Chaoluomen's voice sounded in Alatan's ear, "Gegen Khan hasn't appeared yet, the one over there is fake."

In such a great sacrifice, the King Khan of a large tribe not only did not show up, but also used a substitute!

Alatan was startled, and immediately turned his head to look at his brothers. He had already turned his head towards Luomen, but Geriletu still had a nonchalant smile on his face. As for Ba Gen... that smirk, maybe he was Really didn't find out?

Alatan looked at his father for help, Darigachi couldn't see any flaws on his face, but he winked at Alatan again: "My energetic little wolf cub, you are not allowed to make trouble in this grand place , stay by our side honestly, and obediently listen to your brother."

So Alatan understood his father's insinuation, he no longer panicked, and instead began to recall repeatedly... What happened to the Mozhgrad Department during this period of time?Does the last martial law count?

At this moment, cheers erupted again from the crowd, causing the father and son to turn around in an instant, because this time the commotion came from behind them, which meant that the priests from the Green Company had arrived.

The first thing that appeared was a simple sedan chair, without four walls and a roof, only a rough wooden bottom. Wuyun Yada was sitting on the wooden board, her body was covered with thick deerskin, and her robe was decorated with With dozens of pairs of antlers, the colors are new and old, which must come from the inheritance of multiple generations.

This Yada also wore a mask made of buck skulls on his head. His hair was disheveled. In the light of the fire, the exposed face and arms were covered with bright red oil paint, which looked like a skinned deer at first glance.

Behind this special sedan chair, followed by six people who were also covered in fur. Their dress was very similar to that of Wuyun Yada, with leather robes and antlers on their heads, but they all covered their heads and faces with masks. , which implies their status as "sacrifices".

The sacrifices of the Tartars almost do not use human sacrifices, and this time is no exception. These six people are just "sacrifice" role players who cooperate with the sacrifices. They do not need any interaction, and they only need to stay in a fixed place to make a humanoid set. It's a very simple job.

However, the implication of this role is very unlucky, so very few Tartars are willing to play it. Generally, the priests will draw their own slaves to replace them. ...

Alatan swept across these six people without seeing them, and turned his eyes to the back without reservation. At this moment, his attention was completely attracted immediately, so there was nothing to distract him.

Under the deep sky, above the din of people, and amidst the flames, a tall black horse slowly approached. On the horse sat a tall and straight young man, who followed closely behind the sacrificial procession. His black hair was loose ,red.The upper body is covered, revealing the worship totem that occupies the skin.

Compared with other priests, this young man's attire is much simpler, and his face paint can even be called monotonous, with only one color of bright red, but when this color is printed on such a face...

The blazing fire seemed to turn these red-blackened totems into brand marks. They would melt on the young man's pale skin, and then forcefully brand them into everyone's field of vision and memory.

It took a long time for Altan to catch his breath again, and it was only then that he realized that he had held his breath unknowingly, as if his heart had stopped beating.

The black horse was already in sight, and the young priest on the horse turned over and dismounted, stepping barefoot on the grass in early spring. As he advanced, the sound of light bells jumped into Alatan's ear canal.

"You are all here, quite close to the altar."

Miao Xuan has long been numb to the eyes of others, and of course he doesn't care what these stunned guys are thinking. He just smiled at the big nephews, which is considered as a greeting, and then he said to the big brother: "Brother, although I am the first one, I will always stay on the altar, don't worry."

The priests of Wuyun Yada were ranked right before the priests of Mozhgrad, and they were all at the bottom of the list. For the sake of these relatively delicate priests, Miao Xuan was going to stand on the altar to the end, even if an accident happened, He can also protect the upper and lower altars from being affected.

After Miao Xuan's words fell to the ground, Dariga came back to his senses after a long while. He wiped his face and said helplessly, "Okay, I'll be relieved to leave it to you."

Miao Xuan nodded, and then walked straight towards the altar, but at the moment he passed by a few people, he lowered his voice and said: "The night falls, and the dead souls return to the embrace of Changshengtian."

It was a code sign, which meant that Gegen Khan of Mozhgrad was indeed dead—there were a lot of people under the altar, and there were not a few people who had the grace of a clairvoyant, so they couldn't directly say Gegen Khan's name.

Darigachi's movement of wiping his face froze, but he quickly recovered. For a moment, he uncontrollably glanced at the position of Oron Bu, but quickly turned his gaze back, and only shouted loudly at the back of the little brother Said: "Longshengtian bless, the night will eventually pass."

*

The sacrifice was about to begin, and the noisy crowd gradually fell into silence. The priests walked out of their respective tribes and surrounded the altar together.

In the "sacrifice" team composed of slaves, Huo Yuhuai, wearing a heavy mask and fur, and holding a simple and heavy stone knife, stepped onto the altar set up by Bai Shilei step by step, with Wei Jinghuan beside him, Dressed the same as him, except that the things in his hands were replaced by gold plates and silver bowls.

Huo Yuhuai didn't know the minutiae of the sacrifice of the Tartars, but he had obtained a lot of information by reading his mind, so he quickly understood the embarrassment of the identity of the "sacrifice"...

That little priest really has bad intentions, his name is Huo Erlanle, right?I don't know what the meaning of the rare and uncommon tone is in the Tartar language.

Hmph, that's all, anyway, in the eyes of these Tartars, the southerners are slaves, and since they have all fallen into the hands of the little priest, they can only be played with by him.

Huo Erlanle is the strongest person Huo Yuhuai has encountered so far. Not only is he invincible, but he is also skilled. Even at such a young age, it is really shocking.

Under the altar, someone lightly beat the drum, and the sound of the drum became louder and louder, causing a headache. Huo Yuhuai couldn't help but let go of Shengren again, but his perception at this moment brought disaster. The consequences of this, almost made him lose control in just a moment——

Countless heart sounds sounded together at this moment, they were extremely devout and fierce, and they gathered together again. Although he had heard countless heart sounds since he was a child, he had already practiced the calmness of a mountain collapse without changing his face, but this was his first time. When he came into contact with such a pure and huge collection of ideas, like a surging wave, it almost broke his will.

Huo Yuhuai hurriedly restrained Shengren, staggered and knelt down on the edge of the altar. Fortunately, Wei Jinghuan noticed his abnormality and knelt beside him while covering him up, making everything look like it had been arranged long ago.

At the same time, Bo Ya, who presided over the first sacrificial ceremony, had already appeared on the stage. He easily grabbed everyone's attention, and only then did the mistake of the two of them be completely covered up.

The drumbeats under the altar became more and more dense. Huo Yuhuai took a breath and regained the ability to think, but this may not be a good thing, because the little priest walked in front of him at some point, burning fiercely. In the light of the fire, the boy's eyebrows and eyes became more and more confusing, and Huo Yuhuai couldn't move his eyes away.

For a moment, he thought of many secret legends, and there seemed to be a mysterious and beautiful figure in each story, or the mountain spirit and wild monster in the fairyland, or the judge and the ghost in the dark land...

But do those images that survive in people's dreams also have such charming eyebrows and eyes?

Suddenly, the weight in Huo Yuhuai's hand lightened. It turned out that the little priest had taken the knife, and he even held a knife in his hand, which showed that he was very familiar with this weapon.

Immediately afterwards, he turned around and picked up the silver bowl on Wei Jinghuan's tray. There was viscous blood in the container. He obviously hated it, but he still forced himself to drink it all down, so he frowned, Even the bright red at the end of the eyes was somewhat tired.

"Click."

The silver bowl fell back onto the tray, and the blood stains stained the young man's lips. The thick fresh color was shocking, and even echoed the Yin Zhu at the end of the eyes and between the brows, like a finishing touch. The young priest is even more charming.

"Rumble..."

The ten cowhide drums were beaten together, and the thunderous sound rolled away. After drinking the blood, the young priest did not delay any longer. He turned around with a knife in his hand, and walked slowly and lightly to the center of the altar. The heavy copper bell on his waist There were bursts of continuous humming, such a light voice was not suppressed by the drums, but wandered freely between the gaps of the loud noises, which was soul-stirring.

The roar of the drums became louder and louder, but stopped abruptly before reaching the peak. At the same time, the young priest happened to stand still in the middle of the altar. In the deathly silence, he slowly raised the heavy knife in his hand, The blade points directly to the east, and also to the mountains, rivers and land under the night.

Since ancient times, the custom of loathing the night has been circulated in the beliefs of the Tartars. They always believe that crimes and ominous events are hidden in the night, so once they want to get rid of evil spirits, they must bravely and even arrogantly draw their swords to the night.

"boom--!!!"

The drums sounded suddenly, the blade fell, the priests under the altar sang in unison, and the young man above the altar slashed in the air. Accompanied by this strange and solemn ballad, he swung around and danced the sword!

There were no enemies around him, only invisible darkness, so he fought against the night without hesitation, using the blunt-edged stone knife in his hand as a sharp weapon, leaping and leaping with murderous intent, as if to gouge out everything The filth that hides in the dark.

How could there be such a dance in this world?It is completely composed of the slashing of the blade, without any gentle rhythm, and there is no gentle turning point. Whether it is the sword dancer or the music of the soundtrack, everything is for the direction of the blade. The blow was vigorous, and one knife was more deadly than the other. In the intense firelight, the totem on the young man's body was also like a burning flame, enveloping his flesh and soul, offering sacrifices to the sky above the grassland.

Drumbeats and slashing strikes are combined, curse music is intertwined with bells, and the voices of women and men are beaten in the heavy drumbeats and wrapped in continuous bells. Start the knife dance on the altar.

Even if he didn't use "Listening Truth", Huo Yuhuai could guess the voices of the Tartars. At this moment, he seemed to be involved in the torrent of thoughts. Perhaps worship is the instinct of all people. It is in the flowing blood, But it will boil because of the blazing temperature.

The drums became louder and louder, and Huo Erlanle's movements became more and more heavy. The big knife carved by the black stone was wrapped in shadows, bringing with it the power of splitting stones and mountains. ——

If someone can look at their own shadow distractedly at this moment, they will find that it is surging towards the direction of the blade. Under countless torches and bonfires, it trembles with the drums and rushes in the direction of the blade. Everyone's shadows are taken for granted. The ground is connected together and oscillates together, just like huge ripples, circling under the central altar!

Finally, the thunderous drums and the torrential knife dance slowed down the rhythm, giving people a space to breathe, but the slowed down slashing brought even more terrifying power. On the arm, the blue veins burst out between the muscles, cutting the tight and beautiful texture, and the bright red totems came to life abruptly, making non-existent hissing.

The sound of the drum is getting slower and slower, and every knife it lifts is getting heavier. Together, they hold everyone's heartbeat and pulse tightly, and they are tempered amidst the drumming of the eardrums and the roar of flesh and blood...

The shadows on the ground have completely let go of the shackles of the fire, they are entangled with each other, galloping on the ground like a school of fish, chasing and circling, without stopping for a moment.

All of these are superimposed together, finally falling on the last knife, that is the last blade, it is still pointing to the east, still pointing to the grassland mountains and rivers, but when the priest finally stopped walking and raised the stone knife to his eyes, the shadow came from the ground. rises, and extinguishes all fires on the plain.

The torches and bonfires were extinguished, but no one cried out. All eyes were on the altar, on the stone knife.

Cracks were already all over the pitch-black knife, maybe there was a gust of wind blowing, or there was no need for external force at all, the stone knife was completely shattered like this, turning into countless powders, scattered in the shadows.

Even after the light of the fire faded, everything was still so clear. It turned out that the eastern sky had been wiped white unknowingly.

*

The night went away with the fire, and the morning light shone on the earth, and the evil spirits had receded. The next step was blessing and worship. The priests joined hands on the altar and sang songs of worshiping the heaven, earth and grassland.

Just as the rituals of the southerners look at the auspicious days of the zodiac, the rituals of the Tartars also choose the best time. After the exorcism as the opening is over, the sky is just polished, and dawn comes, and it is a brand new day.

Wei Jinghuan firmly held the tray in his hand, and even if he was kneeling, he kept his back straight. If he had had this attitude when admitting his mistakes in the past, he would have saved himself many times of physical pain. The rebellious young man didn't have this awareness. He didn't even listen to the spring hymn on the altar seriously, and only focused all his attention on his side.

At this moment, Huo Erlanle was standing among the two sacrificial Sibei goods, holding a bone flute horizontally in his hand, and playing tunes with the drums of praise—all priests would accompany the colleagues who were offering sacrifices, And he is no exception.

It can be seen that if you want a low-cost and effective gala, you have to squeeze actors.

Priests from different tribes took turns to board the altar, or to bless their compatriots, or to favor cattle and sheep, and as the sun gradually rose, the accompanying music became more and more brisk, and Wei Jinghuan felt that his chest was surging. Feeling unprecedented euphoria, and I don't know if it was because of the blessings of the priests, even the numb legs were greatly relieved.

Once a person is floating, it is easy to do some irrational things, and Wei Jinghuan has no respect for the beliefs of the Tartars, so his eyes began to be dishonest, sneaking aside through the gaps in the worn-out mask go……

Unexpectedly, this little priest's dance is so beautiful, so the sword dance should be derived from the sword technique?Or on the other hand, the fierce strength and exaggerated range are easy to remind people of some old things - it is said that during the Western Expedition of the Tartars, King Khan once formed a prestigious army to open up and close The famous "□□" made the enemy's cavalry frightened.

After all, the bone mask covered most of his face. In addition, Wei Jinghuan was kneeling on the ground, and his height was limited, so there was very little room for him to play. Even if his eyes were cramped, he could only see the little priest's waist. ...

Copper and iron bells hang on the thin waist, as dull as the fur, the only bright color is a palm-sized decoration, which looks like a silver knife, shining brightly in the cool white morning light.

Wei Jinghuan suddenly realized that this thing is a wolf knife!Reputable Tatar men like to wear this thing, but all he sees are gold and blue iron, and he has never seen such flawless sterling silver. Although there is no wealth and domineering jewelry, it is quiet and cool, as beautiful as moonlight.

He really deserves to be a little priest, even the wolf knife on his body is so different, it really deserves him.

Between the blade and the hilt are complex lines, probably antlers and branches. Wei Jinghuan could vaguely see engravings that looked like handwriting. The square shape looked like a southerner's writing, but the light was dim , the pattern is too small, it is really not clear.

No, no matter how you think about it, it's impossible, right?How could there be Chinese characters on the knife of the Tartar priest, it should be a square totem.

Ugh……

It's really a unique knife, it would be even better if he could take a closer look at it, if he could even touch it with his hands...

Wei Jinghuan thought so unrealistically, if he tried harder and defeated the little priest openly, could he beg someone to give him the wolf knife? !