Chapter 43 — The Blooddrop Cave
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 6
As they drew nearer, they made out the situation of the chamber. It was circular in shape, with the tunnel opening into its midst. And on the far side, another passage actually stretched inward—it seemed this was not the only end of the way.
On the left side of the chamber stood two enormous stone statues. One had kindly brows and gentle eyes, standing with a smile, its garments carved as though stirred by the wind, so lifelike that it rather resembled Guanyin, bodhisattva of the Buddhist faith.
The other was of an utterly different aspect: hideous and ferocious, black-faced and horned, with eight arms and four heads, and even a trickle of blood carved at the corner of its mouth, enough to make one shudder at the sight.
Before the two statues stood a stone table, with an incense burner upon it and several bundles of incense and candles beside it, all thick with dust—by the look of it, no incense had burned here in eight hundred years.
At the other end of the chamber there were only a few rush mats, tossed carelessly on the ground, and nothing else.
Zhang Qingyue took this in, and as he was wondering at it, he saw Bili's expression turn solemn. She went forward, picked up one of the mats, shook the dust from it, and laid it before the stone table beneath the statues. Then she took up the incense and candles from the table, struck a light with the flint from her robes, lit them, and set them in the burner. She walked back to the mat and knelt, her face grave.
In the stone chamber, thin smoke rose slowly; she lay prostrate on the ground.
Zhang Qingyue stood behind her and heard her voice echo through the chamber.
"Holy Mother of the Hidden and the Bright, Heaven-Slaying Ming King, your disciple of the forty-third generation of the Holy Cult, Bili, reverently pays homage. The Holy Cult has met with calamity and has long been in decline; countless followers, with livers and gall laid bare, have pressed forward one after another to revive it. I pray only that the Holy Mother and the Ming King look with pity upon all living things, bestow blessings upon me, raise up the Holy Cult once more, deliver all beings, and together ascend to the deathless, blissful realm of eternal joy!"
Zhang Qingyue thought for a moment, and understanding came. These two statues must be the wicked gods worshiped by the demon cult. He could not suppress a cold laugh; he turned his head away and did not look at them again.