Cleanse Your Body!

In Mr. Hoffen's notes, there was a passage that read: The sun and the moon are the two primordial objects of worship that have endured the longest and exerted the widest influence since the dawn of human civilization. For humanity habitually felt awe and submission toward entities high above. Strictly speaking, the faith of Light even bore some connection to the "sun" and could be considered an offshoot of it; only at this stage was it no longer limited to the physical celestial body, but had become a metaphor on the spiritual path. Just like saying a person was like Wien bean paste did not mean they actually resembled a jar of bean paste. The Moon God Church, on the other hand, had always followed the path of assimilating moon-related faiths. In the mythological framework of Whispers of the Moon, many tales depicted the Moon God Artemis and other lunar deities aiding each other, giving off a warm, sisterly bond. Yet this devouring was hidden beneath the warmth of that "sisterly devotion." The worship of the Dark Moon Goddess likely originated from bloodline or primordial faith, because before the stone statues of the two maidservants in Conjes's tomb, Karen had witnessed the Moon God Church's "sacrifice" of those two women—golden insects devouring them entirely. One of them was the Dark Moon Goddess's mother. Having witnessed all this, the Dark Moon Goddess embarked on the path of ascending to godhood for vengeance. Her greatness could be seen from this alone. In that era, facing the overwhelming majesty of a god, even seeking vengeance for blood kin required immense courage. Just like that boy on the island long ago, who watched the girl he loved cast into the embrace of the sea and swore vengeance against the Sea God. Both had become gods in their respective eras, but Raniedal had succeeded: he personally suppressed and slew the Sea God, fracturing the orthodox religion of that time, the Sea God Church. The Dark Moon Goddess, however, had failed. In truth, failure was the most natural outcome. A principal god and their orthodox church were an insurmountable, despair-inducing behemoth. Kevin's triumph had been an exception among exceptions. In fact, without the personal intervention and deterrence of the God of Order—who, by the end of the last era, practically embodied the pinnacle of principal gods—Kevin could never have succeeded either. Following her defeat, the Dark Moon Goddess had suffered grievous wounds. Her godhead was on the verge of shattering, and her divine body was crumbling. Yet judging by her situation back then, she had not been driven to utter doom. She likely still had the chance to retreat a step, and preserving her existence would not have been an issue. Otherwise, one could not explain how the Dark Moon believers could continue building altars like this and conducting numerous rituals. It meant that in the aftermath, the followers of the Dark Moon Goddess and the Moon God Church had undergone a prolonged period of strife and conflict. Yet the Dark Moon Goddess had chosen the fiercest, most unyielding response: she willingly cast aside her own life and distributed the bones of her body, effectively burning herself out to keep alive the kindling for continued vengeance and battle. She wove vengeance and defiance into her faith, forging the belief of the Dark Moon. Just as Karen was lost in these thoughts, he suddenly noticed that the "Dark Moon Goddess" in the vision, who was in the middle of stripping her own bones, lifted her head and looked at him. Buzz! In an instant, Karen felt a terrifying mental force slam into him. The Chains of Order he had condensed to bind the woman completely dissipated. The god's bone was supposed to be on the puppet—the woman; the mental imprint was supposed to be at the bottom of the well. This separation was designed to ensure to the greatest extent that the altar could run stably without unexpected deviations, for anything tied to gods could never be grasped through conventional logic—just like that figure in the world beyond the door... Lord Dal. Even Kevin himself had never anticipated that the mental imprint he had left behind as a "porter" back then would evolve into such an entity after so many years. Now, however, this mode of "separation" was blurring. Karen did not believe it was merely because he had failed to follow the proper procedure to complete the concluding ritual. This altar and island had been abandoned for who knew how many ages; it was long dilapidated, and issues had already existed. Bringing followers of the Moon God Church onto the island this time had simply forced this rotting machine back into operation, ultimately triggering the disaster. The puppet and the mental imprint, which were originally meant to restrain and balance each other, were actually joining forces. Breaking free of the chains, the woman instinctively tried to leave the well once more. Seeing this, Karen had no choice but to forcefully muster his spirit, controlling a body numbed by the mental impact, and clamped his arms firmly around her thigh. At the same time, Karen began summoning the power of Ancestor Allen, combining it with the manifestation of the Sea God's Armor to completely freeze everything around them in ice. What he needed to do now was block and delay, buying his companions enough time to slam the lid on this pot. *** Plumes of white mist rose from the well opening, exuding a chilling frost. Purr leaped onto the rim of the well, looking down at the water's surface, which had frozen into a solid block of ice. She knew Karen was buying time for everyone. Yet glancing back at Memphis and the others hard at work, Purr also knew she could not rush them any further. She could only stand quietly at the edge, watching what unfolded below. Kevin bounded over as well, poking his canine head over the edge to look down. Then, suddenly realizing something, he barked urgently: "Woof, woof, woof!" Purr looked at Kevin in confusion, because the stupid dog had genuinely just been barking—amounting to something like, "Look, look, look!" Suddenly, the colors around the well opening shifted. A crimson glow washed up from below, only to detach from the well mouth at lightning speed and sink into the ground. "Woof, woof, woof!" "Was that the mental imprint that just escaped?" Purr's eyes went wide. "Good grief, a bone and a mental imprint—both of them are rebelling?!" Purr immediately turned to Ashley and yelled, "Warn Philomena to be careful! No—tell her to fall asleep right now! She cannot stay awake, absolutely not!" Ashley still had no idea what stage things had reached; lacking critical information, she could not be of much help right now. But trusting Miss Purr implicitly, she opened her left arm and shouted, "Sandy, hurry and deliver the message! Tell Philomena to go to sleep!" Sandy flew forth, streaking away as a beam of light. Ashley and Blanche took off running after it. Purr stared down into the well and murmured, "I'm starting to suspect we didn't just stumble onto this island by chance. Maybe this island sought us out on purpose." *** Crack... crack... crack... Down in the well, the ice encasing the woman was fracturing. But because Karen was clamped tight against her, she could not violently shatter the surrounding ice, as doing so would tear Karen's body apart as well. And Karen was her top protection priority. She could only shift her body millimeter by millimeter. At that moment, a crimson beam pierced through the ice. When Karen looked down again, the mental imprint that should have remained at the very bottom was gone. It had departed. And with the departure of that mental imprint, the woman's movements grew noticeably rougher. Large sections of the ice around her began to splinter, as if she no longer cared whether Karen came to harm. This meant the "restraints" placed upon her were rapidly weakening. Karen watched the fracturing ice while quietly gathering his strength. The moment the ice shattered completely would be when he played his final hand against this woman. *** Memphis was frantic. As he drove his Rubik's cube through extreme calculations, flashes of his sister's death surfaced unbidden in his mind. It had been a long time since his condition had flared up, but for reasons unknown, signs of an episode were rearing their heads. Faster. Faster. Even faster! Beads of sweat the size of beans broke out on Memphis's forehead, but he didn't even have time to wipe them away. The flustered panic did not hinder his work; on the contrary, it made him all the more frenzied. "Like this?" "No, wrong." "What about this?" "Wrong again." "These ten possibilities... all wrong." "Reverse-calculating these fifteen possibilities... still wrong." Memphis switched hands to continue deducing with the cube. The hand previously tucked in his sleeve emerged; its palm had flushed bright red, as though scorched. Almost... almost... Memphis pushed on with his deductions. The more possibilities proven wrong, the closer he was to the correct one. Karen cannot meet with an accident. He can't. Absolutely not!!! At that moment, trickles of fresh blood seeped from Memphis's palm, absorbed by the cube. Wholly absorbed in his work, Memphis didn't notice in the slightest. Inside his sleeve, the cube's color deepened continuously, its engraved patterns growing sharper and more vivid. Memphis's calculation speed jumped abruptly to another level, yet he remained oblivious. In such extreme agitation, someone could have slashed him with a blade and he might not even have registered it. *** Philomena reached the seashore, flanked by Muri, Ventura, and Bart. "I think I should get away from this island first," Philomena said. "I can clearly sense it targeting me. I'm certain of it, because back home, my grandmother looked at me with that exact gaze." "Then get on the sea beast," Muri suggested. "Let it carry you farther out to sea, away from this island's reach." "No need. I'll just grab a piece of wood. Don't worry, drifting in the ocean for a few days won't hurt me." With that, Philomena picked up a plank of wood beside her. Just then, Sandy came flying over. Swooping down, BOOM! It landed face-first on the ground. The scene looked comical, but it wasn't. As a ceremonial bird that essentially only appeared during sacrificial rites, ninety-nine percent of its merits had gone into being "pretty." Its other abilities were practically useless—often, a Sandy bird wouldn't use them once in its entire lifetime. For example, it could see that crimson aura spreading along the ground. This island was itself an altar. As a ceremonial sacrificial bird, Sandy possessed clearer vision here. At this moment, an invisible knot of crimson was wrapped around its body, yet it still sent out a soul transmission: "Fall asleep immediately!" Philomena received the message. Knowing it was already too late to run, she hesitated no longer. She sat down immediately, shut her eyes, and went to sleep. Having completed its mission, Sandy looked at the crimson strands tightening around it and let out a very human sigh: "Sigh." Then, Sandy exploded. Having disposed of that minor obstacle, the ball of crimson plunged straight into Philomena's body. Muri, Bart, and Ventura exchanged glances. In moments like this, formation masters and summoners were useful; fighters like them seemed utterly useless. You wanted to do something, only to realize there was truly nothing you could do. Whether things took a turn for the better or worse was completely out of their hands. *** Thud! Philomena opened her eyes. The little wooden cabin, her bed. She sat up. Everything around her was her "reality." She got out of bed and walked over to the dining table. Upon it sat the breakfast her mother had prepared for her. Picking up the milk, she took a sip, then habitually looked down under the table. She didn't see the grandmother kept at home. Philomena walked out of the cabin into the vegetable patch outside. There, she saw a woman in red crouching down, holding a bone in her hand. Her grandmother was crawling on all fours before the woman, greedily licking the bone. The woman in red reached out and patted grandmother's head. Grandmother looked up, giving the woman an obsequious look before resuming gnawing on her bone. Philomena looked up and realized that in her "reality," the bright morning sun that should have been there had been replaced by a blood moon. The blood moon expanded continuously, that dark crimson hue filling Philomena's dream at a rate visible to the naked eye. "She's lovely, isn't she?" the woman in red said. Philomena didn't answer, merely watching the woman with calm eyes. "I like your body, and I like your dream. You are just like me—both of us are trapped. Hand the troubles of the outside world to me, and leave this sweet dream for yourself. Wouldn't that be wonderful?" Philomena shook her head and answered, "Not wonderful." "You misunderstand. I am not negotiating with you; I am merely informing you." Philomena replied, "So am I." "I can sense that beneath such a beautiful dream, immense hatred must be lurking. You desire vengeance too, don't you?" "That has nothing to do with you." "I was born for vengeance. Vengeance made me, and it made her. She and I have spent who knows how many ages here, and it has been ages since anyone last set foot on this island. We were born from that Lady's obsession with revenge, and we held fast for that Lady's obsession. But now, vengeance is growing ever more hopeless, and our waiting for her has gradually turned into a joke. This is an opportunity—a rare opportunity. Both she and I need a new vessel to travel to that place where the faith of the Moon God falls." Philomena instantly realized what place she meant: the battlefield between the Moon God Church and the Church of Samsara. They wanted to take this island there to feast upon the flesh, blood, and souls of Moon God believers. Yet what did any of this have to do with the Captain? The woman in red swept her hair back and said to Philomena, "My apologies, but starting today, you will believe in the Dark Moon." Philomena replied, "My faith lies in the God of Order." "Heh heh. And where is Order?" The woman in red looked at the bone being gnawed by "Grandmother" and spoke to it: "Unshackle all your restraints. It is time for us to live for ourselves." *** Down in the well. Karen suddenly noticed that the aura of the woman before him had shifted. Her hand reached straight for him—not toward his throat, but toward his eyes. If the Eyes of the Dark Moon could be taken off like a pair of spectacles and traded for their safe departure, Karen wouldn't have been entirely opposed; he would have at least been willing to negotiate. Unfortunately, the Eyes of the Dark Moon had long since fused with his soul and could not be removed through ordinary means. Thus, their fundamental conflict was irreconcilable. The woman's movement was exceptionally fast, but in Karen's "eyes" at this moment, she seemed slightly sluggish. This allowed Karen to evade her reaching hand while spreading his arms wide. In one hand flared the Fire of Light; in the other surged the Fire of Order. Two flames—one white, one black—intertwined at that moment, sweeping toward the woman. "Ugh!" The woman seemed to finally register pain, or perhaps she had just awakened from a daze. Then, she let out an utterance of bewildered indignation: "As an inheritor of the Dark Moon, why are you so impure? This is a desecration of the Dark Moon!" Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! A succession of shuddering vibrations rang out. The clothes and outer skin on the woman had been incinerated, her hair burned away, revealing a pitted, scarred face. One could faintly tell that paint had once adorned her features long ago, now faded into patchy blotches. "You should believe in the Dark Moon with absolute purity!" From the two small holes serving as eyes on the woman's face, piercing beams of light shot forth. "Everything... for the purity of the Dark Moon!" Karen reached out his hand. The Sword of Arius at the well's edge flew down and into his grasp. Gripping the hilt, Karen plunged the blade straight into the woman's torso. The woman cared not in the slightest. Instead, she laughed, "This was a body I intended to discard anyway." With those words, a beam of crimson light shone from her chest. A bone emerged from inside her, covered in a dense network of cracks, yet its aura was so sacred and vast that it seemed as though it shouldn't exist in this world at all—so utterly out of place. The woman pressed forward, ignoring the Sword of Arius still impaling her body. Gripping the bone with her left hand, she slammed the opposite end straight into Karen's chest. BANG! Crack! Crack! Karen's ribs fractured instantly, his chest caving inward as half the bone's length was driven ruthlessly into his torso. Immediately after, red luminescence poured continuously from the bone, surging into Karen's body. A cluster of crimson coalesced at the depression in Karen's chest and began spreading outward. Karen looked down, staring at the sight in disbelief: "You're actually trying to... Dark Moon-ize me?"