Chapter 138: Chapter 136: Last Try... Body Become’s A Cocoon...
(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...
Guys I need a little help with choosing a next character template.
As For Lord Narashima it would increase slowly as the story progress.
For A template based on one of the avatar of Lord Shiva.
Well I would put a seed in this volume. But it will manifest little later into the story.
I would like to this time choose a local deities.
--> Give me all the names you know. I would do research on them. Or you could share their story a little and their power and what they authority over.
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The five practitioners stood frozen.
Every instinct inside them screamed the same thing.
Run.
Leave.
Survive.
Yet none of them moved.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because the moment that colossal boar had stepped into the clearing, they had understood something terrifying.
This was not a creature they could fight.
Not because it was stronger.
Not because it was larger.
But because standing before it felt like standing before a truth that had existed long before they were born.
The youngest practitioner felt his legs trembling.
The oldest among them felt no better.
He had spent decades studying forbidden rituals.
He had spoken with spirits.
Bound curses.
Commanded pishachas.
Walked through cremation grounds at midnight.
Yet none of those experiences prepared him for this.
Looking into those glowing yellow eyes felt like looking into a judgment that had already been passed.
The giant boar stopped moving.
The chains decorating its legs settled.
Ching...
Silence followed.
Its eyes slowly swept across the five men.
The look within them was unmistakable.
Anger.
Not rage. Not fury.
Disappointment in poking their nose in a unwanted things.
The kind of anger a mother might feel toward children who had knowingly crossed a line.
The kind of anger that came from seeing something sacred violated.
The oldest practitioner’s mouth went dry.
His eyes shifted toward the countless spirits kneeling around the clearing.
Every single one had lowered their heads.
Even his daughter.
Even the murdered victims.
Even the wandering dead.
They all knelt before the creature.
That realization sent a chill through him.
Something divine.
It had to be.
No spirit commanded such reverence.
No demon inspired such submission.
This was something else entirely.
Something tied to the land itself.
His heart pounded.
Then he made a decision.
A desperate one. A foolish one.
But fear often made men gamble.
Slowly, he reached into the bag hanging from his shoulder.
The other practitioners noticed immediately.
The youngest looked horrified.
"Elder..."
The old man ignored him.
His fingers wrapped around a large ritual doll.
Unlike ordinary dolls, this one had taken years to create.
It contained relics.
Bones.
Rare herbs.
Sacrificial bindings.
A vessel capable of supporting powerful sealing rituals.
His last resort.
His final weapon.
The elder pulled it free.
The moment he did, the giant boar’s glowing eyes narrowed slightly.
The old man began muttering mantras.
His voice grew louder with every passing second.
The air around him started vibrating.
Purple symbols appeared briefly around the doll.
The other practitioners immediately understood.
Their faces paled.
One of them whispered,
"Maintain the formation."
The elder repeated the command.
"Hold the formation!"
The four immediately began reciting supporting mantras.
Protective circles glowed.
Symbols brightened.
The ritual formation strengthened.
The elder focused completely on the doll.
He refused to look at the creature.
Refused to acknowledge the fear clawing at his heart.
He would seal it.
Whatever it was. Whatever the cost.
Even if it consumed his life.
Then something wet struck his face.
The old man paused. His chant faltered.
Slowly he raised his hand.
Touched his cheek.
His fingers came away red.
The old man froze seeing it.
"...."
Blood. Not water.
Blood.
Another drop landed.
Then another. Then another.
The practitioners looked upward.
"...."
"...."
"...."
And their hearts nearly stopped.
Blood was falling from the sky.
Not heavy. Not violent.
A gentle rain. A crimson rain.
The droplets struck leaves.
Trees.
Clothing.
Skin.
The clearing slowly turned red.
The youngest practitioner stumbled backward.
"No..."
Then something else happened.
Five objects fell from above.
-THUD. -THUD. -THUD.
-THUD. -THUD.
The practitioners immediately recognized them.
Their faces drained of color.
The tantra dolls.
The dolls they had buried.
The dolls that should have been miles away.
The northern doll.
The southern doll.
The eastern doll.
The western doll.
And the central doll.
All five now lay before them.
Covered in blood.
Fresh blood.
The old man’s breathing became erratic.
That was impossible.
No one could have retrieved them.
No one even knew where they were buried.
Yet here they were.
Placed neatly before them.
As though someone had dug them up and returned them.
No. Not someone.
Something.
The rain intensified.
The blood-covered dolls seemed almost alive beneath the crimson droplets.
And then all five practitioners felt it.
A terrible sensation.
The blood coating the dolls...
felt familiar.
The realization hit them simultaneously.
The blood belonged to them.
Not physically. Not logically.
Yet every fiber of their being recognized it.
As if those dolls had become extensions of themselves.
The youngest practitioner suddenly dropped to one knee.
His strength was fading.
The others felt it too.
Their bodies grew heavier. Their limbs weaker.
The blood rain continued falling.
The giant boar never moved.
Never blinked. Simply watched.
"...."
The elder forced himself back to his senses.
"No..."
He tightened his grip on the ritual doll.
"No!"
His voice became desperate.
The mantras poured from his mouth faster.
Louder.
More forcefully.
Purple light finally appeared around the doll.
The ritual was working.
Barely.
But it was working.
The old man raised the doll toward the giant boar.
His eyes burned with determination.
"Stop!"
His voice echoed through the clearing.
The four others stared in horror.
The elder continued.
"Whatever you are..."
The doll glowed brighter.
"I will seal you!"
The air trembled.
The spirits surrounding the clearing remained silent.
The giant boar remained silent.
The elder’s voice rose higher.
"Even if I must sacrifice my life—"
Suddenly he stopped his words.
His eyes widened.
The doll slipped from his fingers.
His hand flew to his throat.
No air.
He couldn’t breathe.
The words vanished in his throat.
The mantra broke apart.
The old man’s body bent forward violently.
The other practitioners rushed toward him.
"Elder!"
"What happened?!"
The old man couldn’t answer.
"...."
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
He could feel it.
Inside him.
Something is Moving.
Crawling.
Not physically.
Yet undeniably real.
Something was traveling through his body.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Like a creature making its way toward the surface.
The sensation spread from his stomach.
To his chest. To his throat.
The old man’s eyes bulged.
Pure terror filled them.
Because whatever was moving inside him... wanted out.
And for the first time that night, even the giant boar was no longer the thing he feared most.
The elder tried to scream.
No sound came out.
His body suddenly rose from the ground as though invisible hands had seized him.
The four remaining practitioners stumbled backward in shock.
"Elder!"
"Elder!"
"Elder!"
"...."
The old man’s body hung several feet above the forest floor.
Then it began shaking.
Not trembling. Not convulsing.
Shaking so violently that even the charms hanging from his robes snapped apart and scattered across the clearing.
The protective formation around the five practitioners flickered wildly.
The mantras they had spent years mastering poured from their mouths one after another.
Sacred ash. Protective seals.
Warding chants.
Everything they knew. Everything they had with them.
They threw it at the phenomenon.
Nothing happened.
It was like trying to stop a mountain with a handful of leaves.
The old man’s face twisted in agony.
His veins stood out across his skin.
The blood rain continued falling silently around him.
The giant boar remained where it stood.
Watching.
Not interfering. Not helping.
Simply watching.
The spirits kneeling throughout the forest remained motionless as well.
As though all of them had seen this before.
As though all of them already knew how this would end.
The four practitioners continued chanting.
Their voices grew louder.
More desperate.
One of them cut his palm and offered blood to strengthen the ritual.
Another shattered three protective talismans.
The third invoked his clan’s ancestral spirits.
The fourth burned a precious charm he had carried for over a decade.
Still nothing worked.
The thing inside the elder continued moving as if it wanted to come out as soon as possible.
The old man’s body suddenly became still as his eyes poped out not able to handle what ever inside his body.
Completely still.
The chanting stopped.
The forest became silent.
For a brief moment, hope appeared.
Maybe it was over.
Maybe whatever had happened had passed.
Then they saw it.
Something moved beneath the skin of his throat.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Traveling upward.
The four practitioners froze.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The bulge moved.
Paused. Moved again.
Like a creature searching for a way out.
The old man’s lifeless eye sockets while blood is coming out stared toward the sky.
Then a crackling sound echoed through the clearing.
Not from the forest. Not from the spirits.
From the elder himself.
The four men took another step back.
Fear had completely replaced reason now.
Every instinct screamed at them to run.
But their legs refused to move.
They could only watch.
The thing inside finally reached the surface.
And then... Something emerged.
At first only a small hand.
Far too small to belong to an adult.
Its fingers gripped the edge of reality itself as though climbing out of a doorway.
Then another hand appeared.
Then a head.
The practitioners stared in disbelief.
The creature pulled itself free.
Slowly. Patiently.
As though it had all the time in the world.
When it finally stood upon the forest floor, all four felt their hearts nearly stop.
The thing resembled a demon.
But not the towering monsters described in ancient texts.
It was small.
The size of a ten-year-old child.
Thin arms.
Thin legs.
Dark skin covered with strange markings that seemed to shift whenever one looked directly at them.
Its eyes glowed with a sickly golden light.
Too intelligent.
Far too intelligent.
And its mouth...
Its mouth stretched into a grin far wider than it should have been possible.
The creature looked around curiously.
First at the forest.
Then at the spirits. Then at the giant boar.
Finally its gaze settled upon the four surviving practitioners.
The grin widened.
One of them immediately fell to his knees.
Another forgot the mantra he was chanting midway through.
The third nearly dropped his ritual knife.
Because the aura emanating from the creature was overwhelming.
Not divine. Not holy.
Not demonic in the traditional sense.
It felt wrong.
Like something that should never have existed.
Like a nightmare that had learned how to walk.
The little creature tilted its head.
Then spoke.
Its voice sounded like several children whispering together.
"You finally dug them up."
The practitioners stared.
None of them understood.
The creature giggled. A child’s giggle.
Yet every spirit in the forest lowered their heads further.
Even the blood rain seemed to hesitate.
The creature pointed toward the five blood-covered dolls lying on the ground.
Then toward the giant boar.
Then toward the practitioners.
Its grin somehow became even wider.
"You were warned."
The chains on the boar’s legs softly rang.
Ching...
The creature laughed.
The sound echoed throughout the forest.
And for the first time that night, the four surviving practitioners realized something horrifying.
The giant boar was not the thing hunting them.
The boar had merely come to witness judgment like a queen waiting for a execution take place.
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(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.
-->
New Template:
But it will manifest little later into the story.
I would like to this time choose a local deities.
--> Give me all the names you know. I would do research on them. Or you could share their story a little and their power and what they authority over.
Don’t forget to review guys...
Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.
