The path becomes increasingly oppressive, and each shadow cast by the bamboo trees in the moonlight creates an unsettling impression.
The surrounding sounds, once soothing, now take on a sinister tone as he ventures deeper.
Soon, a faint but persistent buzzing begins to fill his ears. At first, one might think it's just the wind rustling through the leaves, but the sound seems too regular, too rhythmic for that.
It sounded more like whispering or the beating of insect wings, but nothing he could identify precisely.
Intrigued and wary, he slows his pace, trying to locate the source of the noise. His eyes scan the darkness illuminated by the faint glow of his lantern, searching for a sign, a movement, anything that might explain the buzzing sound.
The talismans in his sleeves offered him little consolation, a faint hope of protection against whatever might await him.
The buzzing increases slightly in volume, indicating that he is getting closer to its source. Discovering the cause of these disappearances and strange noises is crucial, not only for the safety of the villagers but also to prove his own worth.
Perhaps, in a burst of optimism, he will even uncover something that will help his sect understand what went wrong during the ceremony.
Why is he here? He's starting to regret his choice... but just one last good deed before he becomes a selfish jerk. He felt sorry for them and his sect, the GM played with his feelings again—he gets fooled too easily.
He has to move toward that buzzing sound, tiptoeing so as not to be seen or spotted. He swallows and holds the sleeve of his robe slightly in front of his lantern to dim the light so he can just see what's happening in front of him without attracting attention.
[ As Shoi-Ming cautiously makes his way through the forest, the persistent buzzing is soon accompanied by an additional sound, subtle but clearly perceptible: the tinkling of bells, as if the air itself were charged with an ominous melody.
The contrast between the buzzing and the tinkling creates an almost unreal atmosphere, accentuating the feeling of entering a realm where the boundary between the natural and the supernatural is blurred.
Looking around, he notices that some bamboo plants appear to have been crushed, leaving traces that suggest a large creature has passed through recently.
The teachings he received within his sect may come back to him.
Mountains are often places of power, chosen by sects not only for their isolation but also for their proximity to the divine and the mystical. These same mountains are sometimes the scene of the sealing away of evil creatures or entities, confined far from mankind.
What if the ritual he had witnessed, disrupted so catastrophically, had unwittingly released something that was meant to remain imprisoned? ]
He hadn't thought of that!
Why hadn't he thought of that?!
Now he sees how logical it is. This is clearly not his level. He'll get himself killed if he encounters this creature.
He has to turn around and warn his sect!
But they'll ask him why he didn't solve the problem. They'll ask him why he didn't at least bring back more information about the creature—find out what it is.
He's risking his life there. It's dangerous. No, if he thinks that way, he'll disappoint all those people who are counting on him.
We're not asking him to defeat this creature, just to gather enough information to help. He doesn't need the inhabitants' praise—what matters is that they restore their trust in the sect.
What's that sound of bells, anyway? What could be making that sound? A fox? Some can be very large, and their ability to shapeshift could allow them to sneak among humans. A dragon, with bells? He has his doubts. No matter how hard he looks, he can't see anything.
As Shoi-Ming moves forward with extreme caution, his mind swirls with thoughts and speculations about the nature of the creature responsible for the bell-like sounds and persistent buzzing.
Despite his keen attention and alert senses, he cannot make out any shape or silhouette that might indicate the creature's presence. It is there, however, almost tangible in the air thick with palpable tension, but remains elusive to his eyes.
The crushed marks on the bamboo, becoming more and more obvious as he continues, reveal the creature's impressive size. By deduction, he estimates that it must be at least nine meters tall, a colossal size that is beyond the comprehension of most beings living in or around these mountains.
The realization is alarming: a creature of this size, capable of moving undetected and causing so many deaths, would undoubtedly have attracted the attention of his sect if they had known of its presence.
The fact that such an entity is free to roam here suggests that it has only recently arrived in these parts.
The importance of the mission now goes beyond simply rescuing villagers or seeking personal redemption. He bears the responsibility of bringing back crucial information. But the danger is growing, exponentially even.
He can now see the vegetation bending before him under the effect of an invisible force.
Panicked, his hand over his mouth, Shoi-Ming's heart is racing after instinctively hiding behind a bamboo tree, which, we can all agree, is pretty ridiculous and not really effective.
He mustn't move, despite the tremors shaking his body at the thought of being spotted. This thing might be blind and rely on sound to find its prey, who knows.
Suddenly, the vegetation twists in a way that defies nature, revealing the imposing silhouette of a Gashadokuro. The creature, a giant spirit made of bones, materializes in front of him. If it has emerged from its invisibility, it must have seen him.
Its enormous skull lowers to his level, while its skeletal hand reaches out to grab him. A hundred bells are strangely attached to its ribs by red threads, and the buzzing sound he had mistaken for the wind was nothing more than the sound of this monster's bones rubbing against each other.
The Gashadokuro, normally associated with places haunted by the tragedies of battlefields or famines, should not be wandering here, far from any known source of suffering and death on such a scale.
Yet it was crawling toward the peak of the Ethereal Clouds, as if drawn by some unknown force.
Legend has it that Gashadokuro are drawn to life, that they can sense the presence of the living and consume them to satisfy their insatiable hunger, a hunger born of the tragic circumstances of their creation. Yet there are more souls in this village than in the sect.
[ Elite monster: "Gashadokuro, the Wailing Mother."
Strength: 95.
Dexterity: 40.
Charisma: 5.
Luck: 20.
Constitution: 90.
Qi mastery: 70. ]
A ridiculous and pitiful little squeak escaped from between his lips.
What are these crazy stats?! He knew he didn't stand a chance, but to this extent?! He wasn't even an insect to this thing! Just a speck of dust, and even then, a speck of dust in the eye would be annoying, but not him!
Crying inside, his legs moved on their own, driven by his survival instinct.
So this is the last thing you see before you die? And what will happen once he's dead? Will he return to his world? Will he change characters or... is this the end?
He doesn't want to take any bets, given how much the GM wants him dead. Why is he always in trouble? Ever since he started being Shoi-Ming, he feels like all he does is sweat profusely, panic, and run. Like now!
He glanced behind him briefly to dodge the creature's attacks as best he could. He's going to die, he's definitely going to die! Look at him sprawling out as he stumbles to the ground, dodging its skeletal hand and scrambling to get back up.
Please, let him live, he just wanted to help those villagers! What a mistake that was! If only he had just ignored it all! He didn't learn his lesson last time! What an idiot!