The gentle rain whispered against the cell's iron bars, its soft patter a delicate backdrop. Ansu's eyes fluttered open, clouded with confusion. He lowered his gaze, meeting the reflection of a youthful face in a puddle, and stilled. The face staring back wasn't his own. The boy in the reflection bore a fragile beauty, barely fourteen, with eyes of a sallow-green casting a chilling luminescence, his skin eerily pale, nearly see-through. Clad in the opulent garb befitting nobility, his robe trailed over the earth, mingling with his ash-white hair that encased his bare feet. This fragile noble stood in stark contrast to the dank, shadowed confines of his surroundings.
"Shh..." A piercing pain sliced through Ansu's thoughts. Memories from a life once lived surged forward, overwhelming. He had been the celebrated speedrunner of a Western fantasy realm called "Nether." His seventh endeavor aimed to shatter the world record for its quickest conquest, a record he himself had crafted during his previous attempt. Engrossed in his challenge throughout the night, darkness enveloped him, only to awaken in the very world of Nether he sought to master.
With the meshing of memories, Ansu's demeanor darkened. His beginning in this world was far from auspicious. Offered as a sacrifice by cultists, his new identity, Ansu Morningstar, was the scion of the affluent Morningstar clan. Despite their fortune, Ansu was never to be the hero of this tale. His birth marked him with an uncommon affinity for darkness, devoid of light, branding him a 'cursed child.' If not for his enlightened lineage, his fate might have been sealed in watery depths. Furthermore, the body's original soul was known for his withdrawn and defiant nature, adept at evading familial confines.
These peculiarities made him a prime choice for the cultists' dark offerings. A child cursed with potent dark abilities was a prized sacrifice for the dark deities. The Life Mother Goddess, in particular, savored such gifts, finding the mix of dark and light attributes exquisitely tantalizing.
Recalling his prior life, Ansu recognized he was reliving "Nether's" opening cinematic. The cult had abducted two children: himself and one of the narrative's heroines, the future Holy Woman of the Church, renowned for her abhorrence of malevolence —Luo Jia Fast.
In games, such scenarios typically pave the way for the hero's grand entrance, leaving Ansu as but a footnote. As the story was scripted, the cultists would offer their sacrifices in succession, with Ansu meeting a swift demise at the dark god's hands. This act, however, would catalyze Luo Jia's awakening as the Holy Woman, who would then decimate the cultists.
Anticipating what lay ahead, Ansu knew he must curry favor with the young Holy Woman, align with the protagonist, and leverage his past life's insights to unlock Luo Jia's latent potential, securing his survival.
This strategy was both logical and inevitable. Under such dire circumstances, the path was clear. With an uncharacteristic calm, Ansu contemplated, finding his thoughts lucid and his resolve unwavering.
He rose, approached the adjacent cell, and observed the girl within. A year his senior, Luo Jia sat curled up, her silver-white lashes casting shadows over her golden eyes, which glinted coldly. Her faded nun's habit enveloped her pale form, her slight frame shivering under the flickering torchlight, reminiscent of a fragile kitten.
Feeling Ansu's gaze, she glanced up, hesitated, then averted her face once more.
"God will protect us," Luo Jia murmured, perhaps offering solace to Ansu or seeking it for herself.
"I'm Ansu," he introduced himself with courtesy. "And you?"
"Luo Jia."
"Luo Jia," Ansu repeated, his tone grave, "I know how we can escape this fate, and you play a pivotal role in my plan."
The crucial role? Luo Jia's gaze met Ansu's. Inexplicably, she felt a stir of trust towards the noble youth before her, perhaps swayed by his reassuring smile. He was undeniably attractive.
"What must I do?" she inquired.
Ansu held her gaze, slowly articulating, "First, we must vow to the Goddess of Contracts that, upon our escape, you won't betray me..."
Luo Jia, puzzled, tilted her head, her silver hair cascading over her shoulder, "What do you mean?"
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"And," he continued, "you must promise never to harm me in the future."
Years later, as the Holy Woman of the Church, Luo Jia would often reflect on that bleak, damp afternoon, the memory of a boy's innocent smile and his peculiar request haunting her with regret.
Time marched on, the autumn rain ceasing its gentle song. Ansu never divulged his plan to Luo Jia; instead, he waited in silence.
The ceremony was set to commence. A priest adorned with a golden sun mask released Ansu from his chains, leading him forth. This mask symbolized the cult's devotion to the Life Mother Goddess, a direct nod to "Nether's" lore.
In "Nether," freedom was paramount, and the cult of the Life Mother Goddess stood as one of eight clandestine sects. Devotees reveled in sacrifices to curry favor and receive blessings.
As a veteran player, Ansu was intimately familiar with the cult's rites. During his sixth journey, he had ascended to the role of the cult's Pope, overseeing numerous sacrificial rites.
Brought before the altar, adorned with mercury and blood runes, surrounded by grotesque relics of sacrifice, Ansu recognized each artifact: 【Twisted Flesh】, 【Dead Man's Bed】, 【Bone Cradle】... items of great rarity, beyond the reach of mere wealth. The cultists had spared no effort, given the stakes: a cursed child and a nascent Holy Woman.
Twenty masked figures knelt around the altar, their anticipation palpable, awaiting the Mother Goddess's grace. The ritual called for children of dark talent or Church nuns to be presented for the bishop's blessings, a means to anchor and summon the Mother Goddess. The more fervent and precise the blessing, the higher the likelihood of divine attention. The deity's acceptance of the sacrifice would result in blessings for her followers, the magnitude of which hinged on her pleasure.
Ansu was to be sacrificed first. Luo Jia, standing below the altar, turned pale with fear at the sight of the surrounding bones. Despite trembling lips, she remained unyielding, her eyes coldly fixed on the cultists, biting her silver teeth. She hoped to save Ansu more than herself, feeling something tremble in her heart.
Ansu also looked at Luo Jia, knowing the Holy Woman was on the verge of awakening. The standard solution was to cling to the protagonist... but he was a player of the dark path.
Ansu believed inself-reliance over seeking others' help.
As the ceremony began and the officiant started chanting in a deep, hoarse voice that seemed to howl in agony, Ansu thought to himself, "As expected..."
Being a seasoned player, Ansu spotted at least three grammatical errors in the chant. Since this was the game's opening scene and he had played up to its seventh iteration, with the game updating to version 3.0, many patches had been applied, including updates to the chant. For instance, the term "Mother of Life" should have been updated to "Mother of Fertility" among others. This chant, though capable of summoning the dark god, was barely sufficient.
A proper summoning required repetitive chanting, consuming a lot of time, and each summoning could only sacrifice one offering. Wasting time on a non-skippable cutscene was a major complaint among players, prompting official updates. The updated 3.0 chant introduced more precise anchoring phrases, allowing for the summoning of the dark god with a single command and the simultaneous sacrifice of multiple offerings.
As the priest prepared to chant again, Ansu spoke up. With the appearance of a fourteen-year-old, his pupils trembling, he voiced in a frightened and childish manner, "Uncle, may I... may I leave some last words?"
His sallow-green eyes shimmered with tears. According to the game's lore, a sacrifice's final words, especially if they were full of despair and sorrow, could please the Mother more. It was part of the ritual, and they could not refuse him.
The priest nodded dismissively. What could a pampered noble child possibly say? Just a few cries and pleas, he thought.
Below the altar, Luo Jia's heart sank seeing the young boy's frightened demeanor. Ansu, now at the center of the altar, seemed too scared to stand and crawled on the ground, facing the twenty equally prostrate devotees.
"O Mother of Desire and Moon, Great Mother of Fertility," he began, his voice taking on an odd pitch, as if he was straining his voice, and his last words turned out even stranger than the priest's chant.
"Heh," Ansu chuckled, lifting his eyes without a trace of fear, only calmness —unbefitting of a fourteen-year-old. "This is a hymn of utmost sincerity, a feast for soul and spirit," he declared, his smile clean and bright. "This is a delicacy of blood and flesh!"
"Your devout follower, Ansu Morningstar, offers a gift," he continued, "dedicating the twenty-one dark heretics upon this altar to You—"
"Inviting You to dine with me!"
The statement caused uproar. Luo Jia was utterly shocked, finally understanding the meaning of not reporting him.
What madness was this?
The officiant's eyes widened in disbelief. This was unheard of. In his thirty years, he had never seen a sacrifice attempt to sacrifice them, especially not on their own meticulously prepared altar.
It was as if a chef, after thirty years, was cooked by his own ingredients, using his cutting board. He nearly laughed at the absurdity. Did this child think simply reciting a few words would summon the Mother Goddess? A summoning required at least four hours of chanting, and he even got the anchoring phrases wrong. Moreover, who could sacrifice twenty-one people at once?
But his laughter died in an instant as a great terror descended. He witnessed the cultists' bodies twist and convulse, their flesh swelling like water before bursting, scattering blood and limbs, some of which splattered on Ansu's smiling face.
This boy's sacrifice was even more extreme than his own. The priest's body also began to mutate, letting out screams. For the first time, he doubted his faith. While he danced and played music, calling the goddess a dozen times for a mere acknowledgment, this wealthy brat's casual call was immediately answered?
He felt utterly outplayed. In Ansu's previous life, this would be termed as being made a fool of.
"You can't do this..." he wailed in agony, "You can't..."
"The more a heretic opposes me," Ansu stated solemnly, looking at him, "the more it proves I'm doing the right thing."
"Who's the real cultist here..." was the high priest's last thought before being consumed by flesh and bone, his body exploding in a splash.
According to the rules of the Mother Goddess cult, both the blessed devotees and the living sacrifices had to stand on the altar simultaneously. Thus, whoever completed the ritual first would be sacrificed first! The Mother Goddess, being a dark deity, cared not who summoned her, devouring her followers without hesitation. She accepted all life with dark or holy elements, bestowing rewards accordingly.
So, who could have a higher concentration of dark elements than the cultists themselves?
"Indeed, there's a bug," Ansu nodded, his face lighting up with the joy of a bountiful harvest. He looked at Luo Jia, who was speechless from shock, thinking, "Sacrificing twenty-one cultists in one go is a massive win."
紧紧抓住主角？冒着被杀的风险充当英雄的垫脚石，拼命奉承他们，却一无所获？
不。——黑暗之路玩家总有办法在生活中快速奔跑。