Kapitel 28: Nightmare Parasite
This time the one dragged off was Lei Zihua.
Qinghe didn't understand why the veins seemed to be avoiding him. But if it was the Nightmare Parasite, then maybe it was just biding its time.
The Nightmare Parasite was a strange creature. It did not have a physical body, but manifested in nightmares as a vermilion formation. If one could regain their senses during the nightmare induced by the parasite, then the vermilion formation would become visible to them and they could break it to be liberated. But if they failed to get free, the Nightmare Parasite would slowly suck their spiritual energy while they were stuck in an endless loop of nightmares.
This Nightmare Parasite must be relatively weak, so it was targeting those with weaker cultivations first, building up its reserves of spiritual energy before latching on to stronger prey.
The first one targeted was Xiao Ran. He was doubtlessly the weakest among them all. The next would be An YaLing since he was at the lower stage of fourth realm. Then was Jing Shui at the peak of fourth stage. Lei Zihua was in the lower level of fifth realm. Qinghe must have been reserved for the last since he had the highest cultivation at peak seventh realm.
Qinghe finally understood.
On the other side, Lei Zihua's nightmare had already started.
She was in a burning mansion, wearing a plain servant's robe with holes scorched into them. She waded through the sea of flames while frantically searching for her little brother.
"Xiao Sheng? Xiao Sheng! Answer me!" she shouted into the fire as her fingers unceasingly kept digging through the burning wreckage. Her hands blistered and her skin bubbled in the heat, but she did not stop.
Her brother must be alive! He must be somewhere here! She'd find him if she just kept on searching…
The blazing hot flames danced garishly in orange and yellow. Soot and smoke filled the air. Lei Zihua felt her eyes sting in the dry heat, her lungs and throat feeling like it was being scraped raw from the inside with sandpaper due to the inhaled smoke. Her limbs grew heavy and sluggish and the fire burned hotter and hotter, the long licks of their flames reaching up towards heaven.
Lei Zihua stumbled and fell down, and try as she might, she couldn't get out of the fire that began greedily consuming her. Her skin melted and sloughed off, the exposed bones and muscles blackening and curling right in front of her gaze. Her eyes were too dry to form tears. She couldn't hold on anymore. She couldn't save her brother. Her younger brother had died just like this…
The scene faded and blackness replaced the wall of fire that had been surrounding her.
Xiao Ran ran to his Senior Martial Sister and comforted her much as she did him. After the loss of her younger brother, Lei Zihua had joined the Lightning Sky Sect and had treated this junior like her younger brother. For all intents and purposes, they were truly like siblings.
A glum silence claimed the group.
Wei Xiang turned to Qinghe. "You're the only one left. Can you handle it?"
Jing Shui also looked at him worriedly. Only the both of them knew of Qinghe's childhood.
Qinghe blithely shrugged. "I will deal with it just like everyone else. I hope I can pass, but that's not looking very likely at the moment."
Everyone was silent. This was indeed too difficult.
How could they break free when they were immersed in their worst fear without being able to remember to use their cultivation or the actual situation? In the nightmare, everything seemed real. No matter what they thought now, they had been unable to break free at that time, the sheer panic blocking out everything else, even their ability to think. Manipulated to this extent, passing the trial would be impossible.
And now that Qinghe was the only one left, if he didn't pass and also had his spiritual energy sucked, then the Nightmare Parasite might gain enough power to trap them in repeating nightmares, systematically harvesting their energies until they all died. The only time it would be visible and vulnerable to attacks was when its prey broke out of the nightmare on their own.
Qinghe turned to Wei Xiang. "If I fail, can you still get us out?"
Raising an eyebrow, Wei Xiang answered, "I can try, but it is best if you don't fail."
Qinghe nodded.
"Brother Feng," An YaLing spoke. "Even if you don't pass, none of us will blame you."
Touched by his reassurance, Qinghe smiled gratefully.
The red lines pulsed, veins extending upward. Qinghe was calm as they wrapped around him.
Suddenly, Wei Xiang reached over and lifted up his chin with a finger. Before Qinghe could register it, Wei Xiang bent down and kissed him on the lips. Not waiting for his reaction, Wei Xiang had already let go and stepped away. Wearing a startled expression and with warmth still lingering on his lips, Qinghe was taken away into his nightmare.
From the side, Wei Xiang watched as the darkness faded into the inside of a crumbling windowless room. The rough, filthy yellow walls were smudged with large patches of black. Little children with bruised dirty skin and barely any clothing were piled up in the cramped and narrow room. The pungent smell of unwashed bodies filled the space, combining with the scent of rotting wounds and excrement.
Standing in the center of this and looking strangely removed from the situation was an angelic looking boy. His creamy skin was smooth and only slightly dusty. His uncombed hair looked charmingly disheveled. His clothes must have been of high quality, since they hadn't been worn down to thin rags yet like the others'. Around his neck was a thick and rough collar made of low-grade spirit-suppressing material.
On the sash around his waist, there was a long string of carefully embroidered words that Wei Xiang could barely make out.
They read: My name is Feng Qinghe. If you find me loitering at any place I shouldn't be, please return me to the Feng residence.
Wei Xiang, "…"
Just how naughty had Qinghe been as a child that his parents had to stitch that onto his belt? Wei Xiang was amused. Well, at least it explained why Qinghe remembered his name despite forgetting his past before the orphanage.
Qinghe's face was calm and cold. There was not a ripple of emotion in his calculating gaze as he assessed the situation.
It was nighttime and he knew he should lie down. If the wardens found him awake and standing, they would thrash the heck out of him and then he'd be ganged upon by the other kids who liked to beat on anyone who was weak.
Talking about weak, there was one person who the others liked to bully, but Qinghe had taken him under his wing and tried to keep him safe.
Turning, Qinghe walked to his corner of the room. He was a good fighter, so the others mostly let him be and didn't try to take over his corner. A thin figure lay curled on the rough floor there. This was the only friend Qinghe had till now.
Sensing his approach, the thin boy turned to look and opened his arms in welcome. Qinghe lied down and snuggled into the warm embrace. The other person was older and taller than him and could completely envelop his smaller body.
Qinghe couldn't make out his face for some reason, but he didn't let it bother him. He knew that this person was kind and trustworthy and that he was good to him. That was enough.
The night dragged on and the piles of bodies around Qinghe lay unmoving and lifeless, but Qinghe didn't seem to notice.
With a loud boom, the narrow wooden door was flung open, its hinges creaking. Qinghe startled awake, a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The sleeping kids seemed to have disappeared, but Qinghe didn't seem to perceive the absence.
Large and menacing black shadows in the shape of grinning men barged into the room. One of them made their way to Qinghe's side, gaze fixed on the person sleeping next to him.
Qinghe tried to shield him but the other shadow men surrounded him and held him down. He could only watch as long arms reached out and clamped onto the foot of Qinghe's friend, dragging him away.
"Little boy, come, let's play~" said the shadow taking the boy away in a creepy singsong voice.
The figure of the thin boy opened its mouth as if screaming, but no sound issued. The boy extended a hand towards Qinghe as he was taken farther and farther, but Qinghe couldn't move no matter how much he struggled.
"Yan Lin!" Qinghe shouted out a name he didn't remember, of a person he had long buried in his mind. He knew without a doubt that this person had died.
The three burly shadow men that were holding him down revealed eerie white grins. "Kid, do you also want to play~?" they singsonged.
Qinghe froze. His face was still a cold mask, but his eyes couldn't hide their terror. He knew something terrible was going to happen to him.
Large shadowy hands crept into his shirt and roved over his face. Qinghe could feel the roughness of the intrusive palms. A grinning head lowered and whispered to him, "I wonder how he'll look after we're done with him. Will his cold face crack?"
Qinghe felt a hand painfully squeezing his waist. He forced himself to not cry out.
"I'll teach you respect boy, I'll make you scream and beg for mercy!" another creepy voice declared, its hand holding a thigh and kneading the soft flesh.
"I can't wait to tie him down and plow him," another giggled as it brusquely pulled his head up by the hair.
Surrounded by these shadows and being touched everywhere by their repulsive hands, Qinghe's eyes were filled with a bottomless well of horror and panic.
Unconsciously, he licked his lips in anxiety and froze. He could faintly make out the flavor of warm metal and woodsmoke lingering on his lips. He remembered the sensation of being kissed, though the exact memory eluded him. What was this?
A name vaguely surfaced in his mind.
...Wei Xiang…
Who was that?
What was he to me?
Sights and sounds and images flooded his mind in a hectic tide of information.
He remembered a beautiful and lively face, one corner of the mouth quirked up in a grin. A pair of eyes glinting with mischievousness and thick, straight hair swinging mesmerizingly with each step. Smooth, creamy skin colored with a touch of honey. A gold and black robe. A warm hand running up and down his back. Little kisses on his forehead. A short peck on his lips.
The memories came quickly in disjointed pieces and were difficult to hold on to, but Qinghe forcefully wrenched his memories back from the grasp of the Nightmare Parasite. His eyes slowly cleared and his lips curled up in a wry smile.
Ah, yes, the trial. He should probably try to pass it.
A burst of wind exploded out from Qinghe, flinging out his assaulters.
The young boy stood there impassively. His eyes were cold and deep, his lips were curved in a small, cruel smile.
"Wei Xiang, thank you," he whispered, barely audible.
At the side, Wei Xiang heard him and smiled. It had been terrible to watch his love being plagued with his nightmare. But thankfully, he seemed to have broken out of it now.
Jing Shui asked him excitedly, "He just used wind! Did he remember? Will he pass?"
"Yes," Wei Xiang answered simply. Now that Qinghe remembered, he would definitely find his way out.
An YaLing said admiringly, "Brother Feng's willpower and talent are truly as rumored! To think he could break away from such a terrible past so quickly."
Nodding, Lei Zihua noted, "Now at least one of us has the chance of clearing the trial."
Xiao Ran could only gaze at this impressive Senior Martial Brother Feng with wide eyes. Up till a moment ago, he had been pitying this person along with the others. What a horrible past he must have had! But now Senior Martial Brother Feng had so quickly and easily broken out. He must be a rare genius just as gifted as the rumors said! No wonder that Sentinel Wei had chosen him. They were truly qualified to be together ah!
Wei Xiang just silently waited for Qinghe to be done.
Qinghe cocked his head to the side and mocked the shadows in a sweet, childish voice, "Didn't you say you'd play with me~"
Everyone watching, "…"
Why did he suddenly seem creepier that the shadow men?
Growling, the three shadows rushed at Qinghe from different directions. With nimble footwork, he dodged two of them and lunged at the third. He coated his hand with the wind element molded with spiritual force, shaping it into sharp phantom-like claws over his fingers. The wind claws punched through the shadow's chest and went right through.
The shadow dissipated into a cloud of smoke.
Not waiting, Qinghe immediately ran towards another shadow and aimed a kick at its stomach. The shadow dodged, but Qinghe quickly swiveled to land an elbow to its chest. As the shadow doubled over, Qinghe hooked his leg behind its knee and pulled, toppling it. Then he ruthlessly smashed his foot through its head. Another one dissipated.
Seeing both its companions downed so easily, the remaining shadow turned to flee.
"Where are you going~ Aren't we gonna play~" Qinghe cutely dragged his words with an evil grin stretching his face. This was such a fun and therapeutic way of dealing with his issues!
Thinking this, he eagerly gave chase to the escaping shadow.
Its tragic fate need not be explained.
Everyone watching was awed at his quick and decisive attacks. This Brother Feng was not so simple. Though he looked perpetually elegant and warm, they felt like they were finally able to witness his true self. He was truly as said, deserving the respect of disciples and Elders alike!
With all three shadows gone, the Nightmare Parasite finally revealed itself.
In the center of the dilapidated ceiling, a vermilion formation slowly came into being. At the center was a sigil that looked like a closed eye. The eye suddenly bulged out and the eyelids peeled open to reveal a swiveling grey eyeball with a coal black retina. The eye quit moving and fixed intensely on Qinghe. The eye split cleanly in the middle, like lips parting, and opened to reveal a mouth inside that was lined with sharp teeth.
A long ululating screech issued out of the eye-mouth. The cry was filled with madness and fury.
Qinghe chuckled, "A filthy thing like you that feasts on the dirt stuck to the bottom of one's heart, you dare think to make a meal of me?"
The parasite answered with another screech, its fury mounting. It sent out a shockwave of spiritual power gathered from its previous victims.
Nonchalantly holding a palm up, Qinghe compressed the wind and created a hemispherical barrier. The shockwaves crashed against the shield and waves rippled across its smooth surface. Refusing to give up, the parasite screamed again and again, sending out the shockwaves one after another, stopping only after it exhausted its reserves.
Qinghe's barrier absorbed the impact each time until the parasite was done.
Removing the barrier, Qinghe decided to go on the offensive.
Upon his summons, the wind gathered. It stirred and lifted up the locks of his tumbling hair and the hem of his clothes. It wound around him like a loving pet and wrapped over his arm. It finally flowed to the center of his palm and started solidifying.
A double bladed sword formed in Qinghe's hand. His hand gripped the smooth and cool silver hilt in the middle. Two long and triangular blades extended from each side of the double-sided hilt. The body of the blades was crystalline and transparent, with faint wisps of silvery smoke flowing inside. Thin intricate designs crawled up from the hilt, decorating the base of the blades. The crystal blades shone as if lit from within by a pure light. It was beautiful and unearthly, a weapon without compare.
This was Feng Qinghe's personal weapon, his spiritual artifact.
Using his will, Qinghe reshaped it. The edges of the blade curled to one side, the hilt bent another way. A line of silver light stretched between the curled ends. The double-bladed weapon had turned into a longbow.
Everyone watching this gaped. They had never heard of anyone being able to modify their spiritual artifact before!
Qinghe was uncaring of what the others thought. He gently plucked the silver string and it twanged melodiously, sending out soft ripples of sound.
Turning the bow towards the Nightmare Parasite on the ceiling, Qinghe pulled the string outwards with his fingers. A clear arrow appeared, notching itself. Aiming it at the center of the screeching mouth, Qinghe released the string.
The arrow sliced through the air, sending out waves of violently churning winds, and plunged into the sharp-teethed mouth. The parasite screamed in agony. Distortions spread out from the writhing mouth. The vermilion formation shivered, pieces of it beginning to crumble until the whole formation collapsed into dust.
Qinghe put away his weapon and smiled.
The Nightmare Parasite was dead.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein