Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 47

Who knows what lies in the heart of a boy?

After a quick look at the scene, Connie noticed pieces of cloths that seemed as if they had been ripped off by a bear. Rough cotton, it was the one that she bought for Martell before. There were also set of footprints, stained with pieces of slimes.

They were small. The right size for a boy who had yet to reach adolescence. Around those footprints, the trees and bushes were ripped off from the ground.

She followed the path of destruction warily, and at the end of it saw the back of a small figure with strawberry colored hair, standing with his head down. He was without a cloth to hide his shame. Pieces of purple gunk were hanging off his hair and body.

“Martell,” Connie called softly, feeling an eerie sensation that made the back of her neck shiver.

The boy did not respond to her call.

When she was about to get closer, the boy’s back suddenly jerked so far behind that he almost fell. In defiance of gravity, he did not. The two pairs of eyes met, and Connie saw nothing but black in his eyes. None of that beautiful color that she grew accustomed to.

Black as night, and as dangerous as one.

His body spun and rose into the air, his entirely black eyes shone as he raised his hands and said with an echoing voice, between that of a boy and a man.

Connie was not very experienced with possessions, as it was a very different branch of the dark arts. However ,she knew from experience that the cold shiver behind her neck meant an evil spirit or a ghost. Something of that type.

I can feel another presence in him.

“Telekinesis: Control.”

The pebble, the fallen trees, and the branches on the forest ground rose into the air at his command.

“Fire.”

Connie dodged to the side as the stump of a tree was hurled towards her. It made a loud thump as it gouged the ground a meter deep. Followed by the pelting of pebbles and little rocks, firing at her like rain.

The blonde- haired girl stepped back and hid behind a particularly thick tree. A boulder whizzed past and hit an innocent tree to the side, which exploded into smithereens.

“Not bad. Not bad at all, Martell. You should have shown this much Skill when we were in the dungeon. Would have made it easier for us,” Connie quipped with a mocking smile, her breathing was uneven from the continuous strain of back to back battle. “Not as if you can hear me. Being possessed and all.”

“Telekinesis: Control!”

Connie grabbed a pebble on the floor as she moved to another tree, avoiding being pulverized by a large boulder.

She had fought many times against possessed people. But mostly they just lumber around attacking anything within sight. Even the ones possessed by demons in the old world could not do more than using basic attacks. But the one possessing Martell now was strong. Incredibly so.

“So, what are you? A ghost!? An undead!? An evil spirit!? I have never seen something this elaborate!” Connie released two blades of Yin Energy with her sleeves as she danced around the incoming projectiles.

“Telekinesis: Shield!”

The various trees and rocks gathered to a shield which protected him from the attacks. Connie used this chance while the shield obscured his vision to run up a tree and jumped high into the air. She focused her Yin Energy into the pebble and flicked it towards his face.

The pebble shot past his barrier and managed to hit Martell’s head. With the infusion of Yin Energy, being hit by the small pebble was like being hit by an iron ball, causing him to flinch and fall to the ground.

“Teleki – “ as Martell - or whatever it was controlling him – tried to get up, Connie landed in front of him and with her right foot she stepped down forcefully on his head and forced him to eat dirt.

Like a puppet, the boy ignored the pain and once again raised his head, only to meet the ground again as Connie ruthlessly stepped down.

“You have made me run out of my patience, boy,” she commented while grinding down her foot against his head. “To be possessed by something like this means you have a weak will. And those with weak wills are not fit for cultivation.”

She grabbed him by the hair, raising him up until they could see eye to eye. There was nothing inside, no trace of the crafty little bastard inside this hollow shell.

“Tele –“ She clasped her other hand across his mouth. One could hear bones cracking as his jaw began to give under her white-knuckled grip.

“I’ve had enough. Goodbye…Martell. You little liar.”

As she was about to do the deed, she felt a kick to her unmentionables. It did not do anything as she had no package down there. Then she saw something at the base of his inner thigh, a birthmark with an unmistakable shape.

A lotus! A Prajnaparamita Lotus birthmark!

The sight of it reminded her of the last thing she promised a dear friend and his partner before they met their end on the hands of the Righteous Faction. Which was to find one with the Prajnaparamita Lotus birthmark. The one destined to inherit his friend’s Sword Formation Art; The Golden Lotus of Prajnaparamita.

After their deaths she tried to but was unable to fulfill the request. A hundred years went by and she left that world with a lot of baggage.

“Can it be…? That is impossible. This is another world entirely!” she rubbed her red lock of hair with her free hand while the boy was struggling pathetically. “But the foresight of Autumn Rain Cicada was always uncanny...perhaps...”

She then looked into the black eyes devoid of emotion and scrunched her eyebrows together.

She could imagine the sound of jawbones and meat and teeth crushed within her palm. He was young, the bones are yet to be as dense and thick as an adult. She was nearly out of Yin Energy but crushing his jaw could be done easily. Like crushing an apple.

Connie then exhaled, slightly loosening her grip.

Feeling the easing of her claws, the boy began to struggle even more.

“Well, this isn’t my best area. But let’s see if I can do a bit of exorcism. Let’s start with a Daoist prayer and then some Buddhist Sutras. See what sticks.”

Martell did not know how long he had been lying there, with the black hands ripping off parts of himself. There was no pain, but the knowledge that he was crumbling away while feeling nothing itself was a terrifying thing.

As his mind began to collapse, he heard something. And light of gold appeared within the darkness. A small, golden light the size of candlelight. The heat it gave off was minuscule compared to the coldness of the space he was in. The black hands crumbled under its light and freed him.

With only a torso and a single crumbling hand, Martell took the light and cupped it, holding it to his chest as if it was the most precious thing in his life.

For he who had starved for something to reaffirm that he was living ever since he was born, it was bliss. It was that primal warmth which he had searched but never found.

Yes, the warmth that needed no understanding or explanation. If death was the end of all living thing, this warmth is the start of all living things.

For only at this moment, were all things truly equal.

That bliss which was shared by all.

The warmth…of a mother’s womb.

Martell slowly opened his eyes and found himself lying with his head on his Mistress’s leg, covered with her robe.

The surprise almost made him forget the horror that he had experienced. He wanted to get up, but all his muscles hurt so bad that he could barely move.

As he got used to the pain, he realized that Connie had not been paying him any attention.

“…Vyavalokite sma panca-skandha asatta sca, svabhava sunyam pasyati sma, Iha sariputra rupam sunyam sunyataiva rupam…”

She was sitting in a lotus position, both hands clasped in prayer. Eyes half closed. Her beautiful lips were reciting a string of words foreign to Martell’s ears. Though he did not understand what she was saying, his body understood its beauty and he felt cleansed.

“…Anutpanna aniruddha, amala avimala, anuna aparipurnah…”

Her voice was the very image of tranquility and gentleness. The sound of tranquil river and soft mountain breeze. Even with her still covered with demon blood, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Martell closed his eyes once more and let her voice cradled him to sleep.

A sleep without fear of losing himself to the ‘thing’ inside him.

Not long after, the search party from Cairula found the four of them. As they were with the Maiden of Water, they were simply asked a few questions before being brought back to town. The fat Cardinal Deacon met them halfway and bawled the moment he saw her alive and praised Junnaveil for her protection.

One of the Church Knights upon seeing the green blood on Connie’s clothes recognized it as a demon’s blood and asked her to be questioned. However, the Maiden of Water defended them and the matter was put to rest. They were also told to get the only surviving kidnappers who they almost forgot.

Henrietta fell asleep from exhaustion on the way back and was given to his butler to take care of.

Connie and her entourage returned home after separating from the knights and they were then greeted by a very worried Illumca, who half cried and half furious at Connie for not taking her along. The tirade continued for two whole hours before she went back to her room to sulk.

That should be the end of it.

That was until that night, when Martell found himself standing in the attic with the leftovers of cocoon and silk around the place, making it look like the lair of some gruesome monster.

And the monster residing in that lair was now staring at him with dispassionate eyes.

“Now, Martell,” Connie said, playing with the Golden Silkworm crawling between her slender fingers. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The boy might not know the emotion called fear. But his body still remembered the death grip that he had been subjected to.

And his body trembled.