Chapter 669: Ceremonious rite of the royal nobility!
Chapter 669: Ceremonious rite of the royal nobility!
Translator: Translation Nation Editor: Translation Nation
Even though this was a holy war between two sacred beasts, it wasn’t at all the slightest bit entertaining or spectacular; merely a tussle between a tiny serpent and a little sapling. Moreover, 99% of the battle involved them struggling in a stalemate.
Eventually, the sapling ‘Stairway of the Sun’ desperately absorbed the energies of the ‘meteorite’ fragment and consumed it completely, before finally being able to dissolve the coiled serpent and absorb it. Except, it paid a severe price; its originally crystalline and translucent stem was polluted with black, like ink being poured into a cup of clear water. Its young leaves and vines were now drooping dispiritedly downwards.
At this point, Old Aram heaved a long sigh of relief and wiped his sweat. He was brimming with a delight at having absolved himself from the snake. Till now, his vitality had been absorbed but his fundamental bodily essence wasn’t damaged yet. If he carefully recuperated, his longevity could probably be restored, thereby regaining some of his youth.
Upon noticing Sheyan’s current baffled demeanor, he pondered carefully before suggesting after a slight hesitation.
"Foreigner, your present situation is truly exceedingly rare. You obtained a sapling ‘Stairway of the Sun’ and not its withered leaves. The usual method of drawing power from the ‘Stairway of the Sun’ doesn’t apply anymore."
At present, Sheyan could only offer a bleak smile. Did he currently possess sufficient economic capabilities to infiltrate the city of ruins again and plunder withered leaves from the "Stairway of the Sun’?
Still, Sheyan quickly realized Aram was hinting at an underlying meaning. He immediately stared at Old Aram and doubtfully asked.
"Could it be that you possess some other feasible method?"
Old Aram pondered a little before replying.
"Amongst the royal nobilities of the Ndipaya race, records of an ancient ceremony rite had been circulated down since eons ago. This ceremony rite is known as the ‘Babu-Babusar’. It is a special technique that only royal nobility employed in the past. While the Coiled Serpent faction and the Sun faction draws energies from withered dried leaves of the ‘Stairway of the Sun’, the Babu-Babusar ritual approaches from a different channel."
"You should know by now, the mother ‘Stairway of the Sun’ is an exceptionally ruthless plant that murders its own seedlings. Our ancient technique is actually based on those dead ‘Stairway of the Sun’ saplings. However, those are completely dead saplings, while yours can be considered as only half-dead. Moreover, it was also bitten by the coiled serpent. Furthermore, I cannot guarantee that ancient ritual will be effective, and more critically, even if the Babu-Babusar rite succeeds, the death rate involved is equally towering and involved excruciating pain!"
"But what if it succeeds?" Sheyan abruptly blurted. "Since this ancient technique was passed down, that implies it can be effective. What happens if it succeeds?"
Old Aram recalled a little before answering.
"Words cannot describe the power gained from success. It differs totally from the power gained of successful warriors of the Sun and Coiled Serpent factions.The Individual transformation isn’t that great, but can cause multitudes of humans to perish unknowingly."
Sheyan contemplated a little and breathed in deeply before instructing.
"Tell me about that method first, let me consider a little."
After extricating himself from the fetters of the coiled serpent, Old Aram’s mood was sky high and thus acceded to Sheyan’s request.
Instead, he fished out an archaic looking rope from his back. This rope was knitted with a dense mass of differing knots. Witnessing this scene, Sheyan recalled an aged old custom he heard of before – Keep records by tying knots (Quipu)!
An unimaginable method of passing down historic civilization records, but was in fact adopted by many ancient cultures.
The Book of Changes (I Ching) recites – "ancients rope for governance, saints easily pass down books for generations, for officials to rule, and tens of thousands of people to inquire."
The knotting method usually complies with this principle – "A monumental event, a large knot. A less significant one, a tinier knot. As for how many, let the masses decide."
Not only was this unique custom practiced in ancient China, even American Indians adopted a similar practice. Of course, to decode the knots, one would have to rely on the mnemonic chants passed on from generation to generation.
Old Aram’s rough fingers stroked through one knot after another, gradually immersing into the supernatural realm of his forebearers. A mysterious language of the distant past drifted out from his mouth, somewhat resembling that of sanskrit chanting. Although Sheyan couldn’t interpret even half a word, the exotic melody still resonated within his heart.
After a good long while, did Aram turned to face Sheyan again.
"The Babu-Babusar ritual is extremely brutal, and cannot be halted once it begins. If you don’t succeed, you will turn into its food; a process of slowly watching your body being devoured until the sun rises and set twice. Do you really wish to proceed?"
The sun rising and setting twice indicated 48 hours. As Old Aram’s unhurried and hoarse words drifted into Sheyan’s ears, he couldn’t help but feel his hair standing. Coughing a little, he inquired.
"But…..at the instance I can no longer endure, what will happen if I attempt to forcibly discontinue the process with external force?"
Old Aram then assured him.
"The greatest possibility is mutually perishing with the presiding ritual master. Alternatively, the Babu-Babusar ritual will fail and you will not obtain its powers. That is what is detailed in the ancestor’s records. The ceremonial ritual must never be disrupted by external elements, otherwise, it would instantly fail."
Obviously, Sheyan was planning to immediately return to the nightmare realm once the ceremonial ritual turns awry, forcibly restoring his body. However, it seems like only his life would be preserved while the ceremony will inevitably fail. Without any other better alternatives left, he grinded his teeth and advanced headstrong.
"You truly wish to proceed with the Babu-Babusar ceremonial ritual? I have to repeat this warning. Us royal nobility utilized sapling ‘Stairway of the Sun’ that were already fully dead. Unlike your current sapling that is merely severely injured but still very much alive. The probability of problems arising is extremely great."
"I got it. Let’s do it." By this point, Sheyan was already riding a tiger that was impossible to dismount.
Old Aram realized his resolution and shrugged his shoulders.
"Alright, wait. I shall search for the records of the Babu-Babusar ritual."
Sheyan took several deep breaths and shut his eyes in anticipation.
10 minutes passed without hearing a sign from Old Aram.
When he lifted his head for a glance, he noticed Aram casting him an ashamed expression while scratching his head.
"My apologies. I actually placed the Babu-Babusar ceremonial records within my village hut. Wait here for me, I shall fetch it at once….."
Sheyan exclaimed.
"...wait wait!! Just bring me along with you."
According to previous regulation, Sheyan wasn’t permitted to exit from a 5 kilometers radius of the Kijuju Marshland. If not, he would be forcibly transported back to the realm.
To his surprise, with Old Aram leading him, he was allowed to bypass that regulation. However, when he returned to Port Qom, he received a notification that he could now only mobilize within Port Qom. Departing from there would cause him to be forcibly transported back to the nightmare realm.
By this time, the pirates had already set sail and returned to the Caribbean sea. By rushing along the wind, they would probably only require a month or so to return to sea. Moreover, the morale was thriving before they departed, naturally spurring their speed of voyage.
Without questions, Old Aram held absolute authority in his tribe. When he returned, he first ordered his tribesmen to prepare several items. Then, he proceeded to search through many different eccentric and weird herbs and items. Finally, after rummaging through his pointed tip straw hut, did he managed to retrieve something.
When Sheyan caught glimpse of that object, he instantly received a huge fright. It was shockingly a wrinkled head!!
Clearly, it was a specially processed head that had strangely, shrunk to the size of a fist. It had reddish brown skin, and oil had been squeezed out to give it a glossy luster; as though it had undergone waxing. Due to its severe state of dehydration, its facial features were clumped together; exhibiting a grimacing malevolent expression.
Upon spectating this head, Sheyan came to realize that these tribal folks were equally barbarically savage. Presumably, such intimidating body parts occupied the position of modern-day ‘sausages and meat’ in the cookbook of the natives.
"Perhaps this old fart understands he is going to exhaust a great deal of effort, and intends to first replenish his energy?"
Yet Sheyan didn't expect Old Aram to treat this head with utmost reverence. He placed it before him before prostrating himself in admiration and started praying and incanting piously.
After a ‘wuliwala’ introduction by another native by the side, Sheyan was informed – that head unexpectedly belongs to Old Aram’s paternal forefather, that was treated like a symbol of reverence; analogous to a household shrine or memorial tablet.
After picking up that wrinkled head, Old Aram soaked it in clear water. One could observe its innumerable hairs assimilating into the water and spreading jointly upwards as though it was braided. When the water turned still, the head was fished up again as its hairs clumped together as knotted braids.
Old Aram squinted his eyes and issued a series of gibberish mutterings to Sheyan. He appeared as if he was expanding a great deal of effort to identify the knots along the braids, attempting to interpret their underlying significance.
At this moment, Sheyan desired strongly to toss a presbyopic glass at him. After all, if the old head reads or recalls wrongly, wasn’t he on the losing end?
Sheyan’s heart palpitated with anxiety as he observed the old man’s movements. Nevertheless, such a method of recording secrets truly left him flabbergasted. Even if one robbed away this symbolic wrinkled head, one would never be able to decipher its true purpose.
A while later, Old Aram’s lips twitched as he urged Sheyan sternly.
"Are you very sure, you wish to proceed with the Babu-Babusar ceremonial ritual?"
Sheyan replied with annoyance.
"For the last time, yes I am sure."