Famine 45: Blood Light Soaring

[Day Fifteen / 03:25 AM / Ship of Bones – Labor Players’ District / Current farm satiety: 5%]

The night was deep.

Battle raged at the Commander’s residence, the fighting fierce and chaotic. But the Commander’s residence lay within the qualified players’ sector, far from ordinary families. In the tent district of the labor players, no one could hear a thing; it felt like any other ordinary night.

Liu Zhengchu clutched Nannan in his arms, curled up on an iron cot layered with rush bedding. The quotas Gu Haoping had set were so high, and the day’s labor so tiring, that they passed out in the night, sleeping soundly with heavy snores.

Neither of them noticed as, beneath their bedside rug, a tiny hole opened, at first no bigger than a needle’s eye, slowly widening…

Gurgle.

Liu Zhengchu was having nightmares again.

Ever since he’d handed over that bundle of cattail stalks, he hadn’t had a peaceful night’s rest. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind filled with the laughter of the farm shop, and that little soldier handing him a cup of hot water—then the image twisted to their ghost-white faces, crying out in agony as they died by the curse of bone ash.
Faced with life-or-death peril, Liu Zhengchu had no time for conscience or guilt. But now, he could neither abandon nor forget them; and so, every night, it gnawed away at his heart.

Drip.

A tear splashed onto Nannan’s face. Nannan’s lashes fluttered and she woke to find her husband, eyes tightly shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. She leaned over to gently touch him: “Zhengchu…”

And at that moment—

Splurt—

The violent sound of water exploded. Nannan shuddered, instinctively rolling to shield her husband. She looked back, and saw a crimson fountain spraying from the floor beside their bed, instantly soaking the spot they’d been sleeping!

Frantically, Nannan shook him: “Zhengchu! Wake up! Something’s wrong!”

The bloody water spread in an instant.

Liu Zhengchu’s soul nearly left his body.

There was no time to pack—or even grab a coat. He hurriedly pulled on raincoat and boots, scooped Nannan in his arms, and dashed straight for the door!

Before fleeing, Liu Zhengchu cast a final glance back at their home.

After Nannan’s injury she couldn’t work anymore, but always managed their life with clever hands. Their tiny home had been poor but clean and lovely—now all was a mess, every bit swallowed by blood.

Only the little flowered paper cup brought back from the shop, which Nannan had transformed into a flower basket and set atop the wardrobe, was left untouched.
Inside, only half a piece of lucky dried meat remained, shining faintly with oil.

Not everyone was so fortunate.

It was now three in the morning.
The farm shop of the rebel army was closed, laborers’ day labor had ended, and all the Ship of Bones lay asleep.

Countless people were splashed awake in their sleep by cursed blood, their screams splitting the clouds.

Outside the tents, blood spread everywhere. The tents were packed close, and though blood holes were not plentiful, there was enough to drench many. Miserable wails and howls filled the air. Some, stripped of skin and flesh, staggered from their tents, bodies slick with blisters, rolling in agony on the ground.

Blood light dyed the night red.

“It hurts, it hurts so much!”
“My girl, please! Save my daughter! Someone, please, save her…”
“Mom, I can’t see! I can’t see anything!”
“Lao Li, are you alright?! Lao Li, are you—?”

Was this hell on earth?

Liu Zhengchu, clutching Nannan, fled through the alleys, dodging rivers of blood, shivering all over. He ran desperately to the neighboring tent, ripped open the flap, and shouted, “Uncle Wang! Auntie! Wake up, wake up!”

Uncle and Aunt Wang woke in confusion, only to gasp in terror—a moment later and the blood would have trapped them. Liu Zhengchu thrust raincoats and boots at them, urging them to dress quickly, and borrowed an extra cotton coat for Nannan.

He led Nannan and the Wangs to an open square, finally breathing out in relief. It was spacious here, every hole and threat visible, and many others had already gathered for shelter.

He set Nannan into Aunt Wang’s arms, then stood up hurriedly: “Please, Auntie, look after her for me.”

Aunt Wang hugged Nannan tight and asked, “What about you?”

Liu Zhengchu paused, then said, “I’m going to save people.”

With that, he charged back into the flood.

Many had not yet woken; Liu Zhengchu ran from tent to tent, shaking each awake. Some, without rain gear, were trapped on their cots, unable to move; he waded across the blood to carry them to safety. Some took advantage to rob widows and orphans; Liu Zhengchu shouted them off, clearing a path for the victims before hastening on…

The whole Ship of Bones surged toward the qualified players’ area, but Liu Zhengchu pressed against the flood, blood splattering onto his bare skin, every stain corroding his flesh—yet he seemed not to notice, his heart twisted with a fierce satisfaction.

Liu Zhengchu.

And those like him, walking the same path.

…

Sizhiyan hovered above, face ashen as he watched the carnage.

The blood curse of the pool was cruelly unique: not instantly fatal, but corrupting, a pain beyond endurance.

It had seemed strange at first, but now Sizhiyan understood its purpose.

“Resentment,” he murmured. “It’s meant to create more hatred, more grudge.”

“In truth, the entire swelling tide of blood and curse relies on resentment. Resentment is the blood pool’s very source of power.”

And Gu Haoping’s [Wailing of the Bitter Bones] was similarly born of the dead’s grudge; it resonated with the blood pool. The blood pool treated him almost as kin, allowing them to cooperate in secret.

To end this nightmare, Sizhiyan knew, Gu Haoping had to be found and stripped of his authority over the Ship of Bones.

Where was he?

Only Sizhiyan knew.

Floating above the Ship of Bones, wisps of cloud thinned and spread, reaching wide.

Wherever the mist passed, it became his body, his eyes.

Spread… spread…

In the depths of the laborer area, nearly the very opposite corner from the command residence, now almost completely drowned in blood, all had fled for their lives. But there, slumped at the edge of a deserted tent, feet soaking in the blood pool, a thin young man sat staring at the devastation.

…Found you.

Sizhiyan’s pupils flickered red.

Hiding there, are you?

[Day Fifteen / 03:25 AM / Ship of Bones – Commander’s Residence / Current farm satiety: 5%]

“Gu Haoping’s position is—”

A cool divine voice rang out over the battlefield.

“Attack!!” Sha Commander, renewed in spirit, leapt to his feet, kicked one of the Guards to the ground, shoved his gun to the man’s head, and fired—brain matter spraying wide!

No time to wipe off the blood; another Guard came at him.

The Guards knew already there was no escape for them, and clung to Gu Haoping to the last, fighting with bloody desperation, clinging to the hope of final victory.

Sha Commander, spattered in blood, had fought his way to Niedu’s side:

“Commander, Commander, we’ve found Gu Haoping!”
“Quick—reclaim his authority, before it’s too late!”

Niedu leaned on his scythe with all his strength just to keep himself upright.

He had already kicked off shoes and socks, fusing his legs with the Ship of Bones, establishing an emergency connection. His features, already fierce, were now distorted by agony. Bone insects burrowed deep, feeding on his blood and flesh, patching holes one after another.

“No… not enough, it’s not enough…”

Niedu panted heavily, swaying on the verge of collapse, eyes streaked with blood.

This was a duel of will between Nie and Gu Haoping.

Only now did Niedu realize Gu Haoping’s grip on the Ship’s authority was already more than a third. The pain and share he held already allowed him to stand nearly equal, a match for Niedu himself.

All this time, Miracle of Agony’s demands had only grown. But Gu Haoping never said a word—always bearing more in silence. Once, it was the silent kindness of a little brother; now, it was a sharp-edged blade for rebellion.

Niedu bowed his head, shoulders shaking violently.

Why did it have to come to this? Why?

After countless attempts, finally, Niedu’s knees buckled; he half-knelt, clutching the scythe, soaked in sweat—the drops falling to the blood below in trembling ripples.

“No… No, I can’t reclaim it. The Ship of Bones is a divine artifact, and I can never fully control it.”
“Some of these bone insects have wills of their own, and won’t obey. We must meet face to face before I can truly reach them—let them come home.”

Sha Commander rushed to support him, letting Niedu lean his weight against him. One look at the Commander’s face and Sha gritted his teeth in anguish, unable to bear the sight: “Commander…”

He didn’t know what else to do.

Niedu needed to remain linked, fighting Gu Haoping to hold the line, to keep the blood holes from spreading. He couldn’t go hunting in person—and Gu Haoping, knowing this, had run as far away as possible.

Leaning on Sha, Niedu whispered, “There’s one more way.”

Sha asked, “What?”

“Miracle of Agony descended because of me—if it can choose, it will always prefer my own flesh. It took all I had to split my power and give him a share before.”
Niedu’s voice was utterly exhausted.
“If I could send enough blood, right in front of their eyes… maybe there’s still a chance.”

Sha stared in disbelief: “Commander?!”

Niedu looked up: “Sha.”
—“Cut off my left arm.”

The words were slow, certain, and beyond appeal.

Sha Commander gazed at Niedu for a long, long moment.

The night wind howled.

The distant screams and bloody glow shone faintly in their eyes. Stubborn commander and stubborn captain met each other’s gaze, seeing the same determination reflected in the other’s soul.

Like mirror, like shadow; brothers in arms.

Sha tore off a strip of his cloak and handed it to Niedu, who bit down on it without protest.

“Commander, I will do anything for the Ship of Bones. Anything it needs.”
Sha drew his blade from his belt.
“This is our dream.”

“Ah.” Niedu smiled, closing his eyes. “I know.”

Slash!

Blade fell, flesh spurted, and a cry of pain climbed into the night, blood arcing high.

The agony went far beyond that which any human could bear; Niedu collapsed, limp and powerless. His scythe slipped from his grip and fell. Other rebels rushed to prop him up, pouring the prepared clotting milk down his throat. Even then, half his body remained fused with the Ship of Bones—he had not given up the fight.

Sha Commander gave one last look to the fallen commander, hastily bound the wounded arm, hesitated not a moment, and, shouting, charged off into the night.

Niedu watched his retreating back, eyes full of satisfaction.