Chapter Thirty-Three: Prayer

The old man appeared to be quite advanced in years, yet as he walked away leaning on his cane, his departing figure seemed to shimmer with the dignity of a life well-lived. Li Le glanced at Brother Bai’s moved expression and at the district residents’ reluctant faces, and couldn’t help but silently praise him:

What a man, retiring at the height of his power!

After the old man’s departure, the crowd’s attention returned once more to Brother Bai and the prey before them. Yet this time, there was a notable change—the way they looked at Brother Bai was filled with a deeper respect, almost tinged with awe.

“Yes, since the district elder entrusted you with dividing the prey, everyone here trusts you to do it!” A burly middle-aged man spoke in a solemn tone.

Though he was past his prime, his body no longer as vigorous as before, his eyes were as dark and sharp as a hawk’s, discouraging any underestimation. With that declaration, he further cemented Brother Bai’s status in the area, and others quickly echoed their support:

“We all know what kind of person the commander is. If he’s the one dividing the prey, I’ve got no objections!”

“That’s right. I agree as well.”

…

All around, people voiced their assent, eyes full of anticipation fixed on Bai Ye and the meat of the Greenfang Beast before him.

A slight change flickered across the cold contours of Bai Ye’s face, though he was clearly not the sort to indulge in emotional speeches. He simply nodded and said, “Then let us, fellow clansmen, first perform the ‘Lantern Prayer’ together. Afterwards, we’ll divide the prey according to our rules.”

Li Le was familiar with the ‘Lantern Prayer’ as well.

Whenever the Dead Mist entered its ‘Stillness’ phase, the strong would venture out to secure prey, and before any of the spoils could be distributed, everyone was required to pray—to thank the Lighthouse for granting food to their people.

It was, in truth, rather unbelievable.

When Li Le had first heard of such rituals, she found them ridiculous, but the fact remained: the faith in the Lighthouse had become woven into every aspect of these people’s lives.

As Li Le pondered this, Brother Bai had already begun the prayer. The clanspeople around him bowed their heads in reverence, kneeling on one knee toward the Lighthouse, silently listening as Brother Bai’s voice resonated out in the dim, golden lamplight.

Brother Bai closed his eyes, placing one hand atop the bloody scales of the prey, his voice cold and steady as he intoned:

“O mighty Lighthouse…

Your radiance shines in all directions, dispelling the Dead Mist;
Your deeds are sung, your name passed from lips to lips;
You are the gleam in the darkness, the faith of all the gods!
Your devoted followers…
Offer you our most sincere faith;
May these decaying bodies remain ever at your side;
May your light and glory endure in this world forever;
…
We thank the Lighthouse for its bounty upon the people!”

With that, Brother Bai released his grip, his pitch-black eyes and pale, cold face stained by the beast’s blood—an air of merciless resolve radiating from him.

The lengthy prayer lasted a full five minutes; the solemn phrases, paired with Brother Bai’s cold and husky voice, merged into something like an ancient hymn.

As the prayer progressed, a mysterious power began to drift from many gathered people—some more, some less—slowly rising into the sky and converging upon the Lighthouse at the heart of the city.

Curiously, though Brother Bai’s eyes remained closed, the mysterious energy above his head was the weakest of all—almost nonexistent.

By some instinct she could not explain, Li Le sensed that this mysterious power was the faith she needed to survive, and yet, as it was not meant for her, she dared not touch it.

As for the prayer Brother Bai and the kneeling residents had just recited, the more Li Le listened, the more her scalp tingled and her hands and feet grew cold.

This method of indoctrination was exactly like the pyramid schemes back in the modern world!

She nervously bit the nail of her right index finger, anxiety written on her face.

If the people in this world were all so unwavering in their faith toward the Lighthouse, wouldn’t it make her plans much more difficult to carry out…?

“Squeak, squeak—”

The little Tuantuan on her shoulder chirped twice and nibbled her earlobe.

Li Le exhaled, turned her head to glance at Tuantuan, and smiled softly: “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just thinking about something.”

“Squeak, squeak—”

“You want to know what I’m thinking?” Li Le raised her eyebrows with a half-genuine, half-mischievous smile. “I’m thinking about how to become a charlatan… and how to make sure you have a better life with me!”

“Squeak, squeak—”

Tuantuan looked at Li Le in confusion. After all, it was still just a little ‘Firefly,’ unable to grasp much and lacking the inherited memories to understand everything.

What’s a charlatan?

Li Le’s voice brightened, her smile turning sly as she teased Tuantuan, “A charlatan is someone who gets to eat and drink for free, and is treated as a sage by everyone…”

“Squeak, squeak—” Tuantuan’s eyes widened.

Really? There are such good things in the world?

“Shh—”

Li Le smiled gently and made a gesture for silence, her crescent eyes shining like the moon as she laughed, “If I say it out loud, it won’t work. I need to plan carefully. The two of us… we’re both outcasts in this world, so we’ll have to survive together.”

Feeling the warmth in her palm, Li Le’s heart softened a little. She turned her head gently to look at Tuantuan, her eyes filled with a quiet tenderness.

“District Chief, shall we begin dividing the prey?” a young, burly man said, scratching his head.

He was a man of quick words and quicker actions; seeing him, some of the older and younger folks nearby chuckled and shook their heads, saying nothing more.

“Very well.”

Brother Bai replied coolly, casting his gaze around before speaking slowly:

“Let’s do it as we always have.

There are ninety-six people in District Thirteen: five minors and ninety-one adults.

Half of the meat is to be reserved, the other half divided equally among all, each household receiving a share. Any family with elderly or children will receive extra beast blood and a pound of bone meal.”

…

Brother Bai explained the division of the prey in precise detail. Occasionally, someone would raise a question, and he answered each one in turn.

In the end, everyone agreed with the proposed division of the spoils.

Brother Bai nodded coldly, then with one hand, lifted the bone knife embedded in the ground and plunged it straight into the basin of beast meat.

Blood splattered across Brother Bai’s face, covering the old marks and running down his young, hard features.