Chapter 1. A Village on the Continent
This was a story that happened in a very......
Pa!
Hey, why did you hit ? (covers face)【Aggrieved】
Talk about the proper business! 【Serious】
Oh oh oh...... (shrugs)【Helpless】
Mm, alright, then all of you gentlen have also seen, too much irrelevant talk isn’t allowed, hehe......
In short, this was a journey of a Sea-Crosser searching for straws~
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Year 426 of the Lord’s Calendar, May 14
Intis Kingdom, Innsmouth Village
This was an extrely, extrely backward little village, backward to the point that the people of the Intis Kingdom could even squeeze out of their minds the thought of “we still have this village’s territory.”
In Innsmouth Village, at a glance, what could be seen was nothing more than sowhat barren farmland, and those low, broken-down wooden huts and thatched huts with withered yellow tops.
The villagers all wore coarse cloth clothes full of patches. Even the wealthiest people in the village lived only a little more comfortably than ordinary folk.
Of course, this village was different from that legendary little fishing village once favored by an Old God. The villagers here lived inland; the village had no inhabitants resembling fishn, nor did it have strange, grotesque statues and patterns.
However, there was one thing here that was quite similar to that little fishing village.
Everywhere, an oppressive atmosphere pervaded. As if here, the distance between heaven and earth was only the height of a person, pressing down so that one could not breathe.
Between people, it was as though there was a transparent wall that blocked all air. Even when eting acquaintances, they were stingy with showing even a bit of a smile.
As if an invisible terror encircled them.
But today, Innsmouth Village was not gloomy. On the contrary, it was bustling.
Almost all villagers who could leave their houses poured out at the sa ti. The atmosphere was so lively it made one suspect whether the harvest season had arrived early.
The people’s destination was very unified. They all rushed together toward that open space at the center of the village. There, there was only a sowhat dilapidated small chapel, and an old tree that had accompanied it.
The chapel was built from a kind of pitch-black timber. It looked as though it had been struck by lightning. Though shabby and charred, within it lingered a trace of vitality.
That tree too was blackened, like an epileptic dancer. Its trunk and branches twisted into unnatural shapes, without a single leaf clinging to it.
The surrounding buildings stood far from the chapel, forming a ring around it, leaving plenty of space here.
Today, in front of the chapel, a pyre had been erected.
Around it were stacked logs and watching militian. Their bodies were thin and frail, but their expressions were extrely solemn and devout, as though what they were doing now was the most important thing of their lives.
“Witch! Witch!”
“Today a witch is going to be executed!”
“Quick, quick, let’s hurry and see! That’s a witch!”
“Eh, I knew it. Why have so many disasters co in recent days? It all looks like that witch’s doing!”
“Damn hag! I’ve long wanted to see them go to hell!”
......
Such words spread quickly from villager to villager, like a plague, swiftly covering all of Innsmouth Village.
On their faces was a rare fervor. Shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, they went together to welco this strange......
Festival.
“Witch......”
Through the cracks between stone and wood, a girl inside a wooden hut quietly watched the crowd outside.
She was short in stature, her face sowhat sallow, clearly malnourished for a long ti. She wore clothes patched many tis over, and on her feet were no shoes. Her dirty little feet were full of wounds, mud, and calluses. Her shoulder-length black hair was ssily tied at the back so it would not block her sight.
She looked too unremarkable. At least, compared with children her age, this child’s circumstances and appearance could only be described as pitiful.
However, she had a pair of beautiful eyes, black as jade, pure as the night sky, as if Heaven had compensated her diocrity with them.
“Does this world really have people like witches? So strange, ah, ah...... ahchoo!”
Muttering strange words, the girl felt her nose itch. She lowered her head and sneezed.
“How co I’m sneezing...... That’s not good. If I get sick too, then who will take care of Uncle......”
“Witch!”
“Witch!”
“Witch!”
Gradually, the shouting outside beca uniform, as if it were so oath or slogan. The usually silent and repressed little Innsmouth Village was actually ignited by this one word.
Listening to the noise outside, even soone fast asleep would wake up.
“Cough...... cough cough......”
It was a middle-aged man’s coughing, sounding exhausted and weak, like a broken bellows being forced to work, harsh to the ear. “What’s happening outside?”
“Ah! Uncle, you’re awake from the noise.”
Answering him was the girl’s sowhat panicked voice. “Don’t move around, your body hasn’t healed yet!”
In the shabby hut, the girl struggled to lift the water jar in the corner. Hugging a jar half her height, she poured a little into a bowl and brought it to her uncle.
“Uncle, drink so water first, moisten your throat.”
The man lying on the bed looked like he was already forty or fifty years old. Weariness and weakness entwined his brows. His arms had no flesh, skin stretched over bone like old leather.
Yet he was only twenty-nine.
He raised his head with difficulty, supported himself against the stone bed’s edge, and swallowed a mouthful of water, then drank no more.
“Child, enough. Uncle won’t drink more.”
Though in such dire condition, this man who looked fifty but was actually twenty-nine, stroked the girl’s head lovingly. “You should drink more. Look, your lips are cracked. You can’t go without water.”
“Got it, Uncle. I know my own body.”
The girl smiled playfully at him. “But you, Uncle, must get better soon.”
Actually, her cracked lips had already reached raw flesh. Usually she was numb to it, but whenever she licked them or touched them, that piercing pain always made her frown.
But now was not the ti to care about that.
She clearly knew her uncle’s suffering was far more severe than hers.
“By the way, child, you still haven’t said.”
Uncle forced a smile. “What’s happening outside?”
“Oh, it’s nothing much,”
The girl thought and said, “I heard people say sothing about executing a witch, but I didn’t quite catch it.”
“Witch? Cough cough cough cough...... Witch!”
Who would have thought this word nearly made her uncle “sit upright on his deathbed”? “It’s actually a witch?!”
“Uncle John! Don’t get up! Lie down, lie down......”
Helping John lie back on the bed, the girl patted his back while asking, “Uncle, don’t get agitated, your health is most important......”
“No, no!”
This ti Uncle John didn’t heed her. Struggling, he tried to get up. “Executing a witch is the most aningful event for our village. I cannot miss it for such a small illness!”
“Uncle......”
“Leticia, help up!”
In John’s eyes flickered a fervent and unfamiliar light. “I must go! At such a crucial mont, we captured a witch and will execute her. This is God’s revelation and command!”
“After this, the Lord will surely bless us!”
Revelation? Command?
Leticia instinctively wanted to refute, but looking at her struggling uncle, her expression changed again and again. Finally she sighed and obediently did as he asked.
When John put on his clothes, his body was so thin it swayed like a stick. Leticia hurriedly grabbed his arm, acting as his crutch, supporting him out the door.
Because she supported him, Leticia’s head was lowered. She saw the sores on his legs, and the terrifying twisted scars on his foot that had only four toes left.
Yet Uncle John’s emotions were rising higher and higher, just like the villagers around them, with a fire burning in his eyes that Leticia had never seen before.
It made her feel a trace of fear.
“Quick, Leticia, we must hurry!”
Uncle John said, “If we’re late, we won’t see the full execution!”
Execution......
Her face shifted slightly. Leticia said nothing, only tightened her hold on him, quickening her pace toward the village square.
“Witch! Witch! Witch! Witch!......”
When they arrived, in their ears was the unified shouting of the villagers. The crowd was seething, arms raised, voices loud, as if venting emotions suppressed for too long.
In the girl’s eyes, this was a kind of emotion called “madness.” It was the most terrifying plague, spreading among the villagers.
“Witch! Witch! Witch! Witch!......”
From the body she supported ca the vibrations of shouting, making Leticia lift her head.
She saw her usually calm and gentle Uncle John infected by this frenzy, raising his free arm and shouting that word.
Witch......
The girl wrinkled her nose. Instinctively, she felt disgust and fear at this environnt.
Because she was small, Leticia could not see through the crowd ahead to what was happening inside. But she knew that this so-called “execution of the witch” was about to reach its climax.
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