Book 4: Chapter 98 (1/2)

A native priest stepped outside of the temple. He had asked the priests below him to assemble the people. As a high priest, he was given revelations by the great god quite often. Surprisingly, the great god’s messenger was a rabbit, but the high priest didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. To his own people, the great god would appear approachable and nonthreatening. Anyway, as the high priest, after receiving a revelation, it was his duty to transmit the words of the great god to the populace. Outside, most of the natives had already assembled save for the few who had gone hunting.

“My people!” The high priest raised his hands up towards the sun. “The great god has spoken! We must prepare for a war, a battle of survival. The great god has been weakened, using up all his energy to save us from the wretched plague. Soon, a trial shall come; the foreign devils will invade our lands, burn our villages, enslave our people, loot our wealth. These are the same foreign devils who have brought the plague in the first place!”

The crowd stomped their feet and jeered, booing at the high priest’s words. He watched them, let their emotions rile up before stomping his feet. “Silence!” he shouted. Soon, the din of the crowd died down, and the high priest lowered his arms. “The great god has been expecting this. He had us build the roads and construct this massive city to protect him as he recovers. Even as we speak, he’s lending us his powers, granting us the strength of the guardian spirits of the land, all so we can defend him when the time comes. And that time is coming upon us! The foreign devils shall soon invade; their goal is to take away our great god!”

“How dare they!?”

“Protect the great god!”

“Death to the foreign invaders!”

The high priest tilted his head back, staring up at the sun. Beside him, a priest handed him a flint knife, and he raised it up, pressing it against his chest. Blood oozed out of him as he stabbed down, giving himself two shallow cuts. A sickly scent filled with iron drifted through the air as hundreds of natives below copied his actions, inflicting injuries on themselves to let their blood flow. The chanting got louder and louder, and as it hit its peak, the high priest let out a bestial roar, and the faint image of a spirit bear materialized in the air behind him. The natives gathered below the temple also let out roars, dozens of animals appearing in the air for a brief moment before disappearing, blown away like a cloud of smoke in the wind.

In the distance, four elementals were sitting on top of Vur’s head, watching the proceedings. Sheryl leaned over and whispered to Zilphy, “What do you think they’re saying?”

Zilphy rolled her eyes. “What do I think they’re saying? I know exactly what I’m saying thanks to my understanding of the wind. They’re celebrating a successful harvest, and they’re hoping for another one while sacrificing some of their blood.”

Mistle snorted. “The last time you said you understood things through the wind—”

“Look,” Zilphy said, cutting Mistle off. “If you don’t believe me, then that’s your problem, but don’t try to ruin it for Sheryl and Deedee. You think Mistle talks too much, don’t you, Deedee?”