Bizarre Realm-Chapter 103 - 311: Cocoon Man! Moth Mother! Mother of Insects!
Old Town District.
In front of a nearly abandoned old house, Hank, disguised as a down-and-out merchant, cautiously followed the person at the front of the group into the dilapidated corridor. They then passed through a webbed area of spiders, descending a creaking staircase into a completely abandoned underground chamber.
Inside this underground chamber, two priests wearing gray robes were already kneeling, and more than ten believers entered and knelt on either side of the moth-themed altar.
"Praise the Mother of Change!"
"Praise the Mother of Eternal Life!"
Once the heavy door closed behind the followers entering the chamber, one of the two gray-robed priests spoke: "Today is the great day of the Moth Mother’s birth! It is also the day she blesses all beings!"
"Devout believers, join us in praising the Moth Mother’s glory!..."
"Welcome her blessing!"
With the voices of the two gray-robed priests at the altar, the followers all devoutly bowed on either side of the altar. As Hank bowed, he slightly lifted his head for a glance, and suddenly his pupils contracted, as there, beyond mortal sight, he saw a blurry outline of a moth.
These are true cultists!
He had been tracking them for a week and finally found the cultists’ lair.
Cults have always existed in the real world, but most are merely fraudsters with some mystical knowledge, tricking people out of their money. But recent events have been different; ever since the Human Skin Book incident, Hank astutely sensed the aura of true cultists.
These people are extremely troublesome, hidden in the corners of Dorne City under perfectly normal identities, some even lurking for a long time.
"They are corrupted Transcendents."
Hank noticed the priests’ pupils; beyond human eyes, there seemed to be hidden compound eyes like those of insects—though invisible to the naked eye and even beyond the Night Watcher’s perception, visible only to highly intuitive Investigators.
He discreetly pressed the communicator within his clothes—a small and discreet Curios fortified with Communication Skill, able to transmit signals within a certain range without obstruction.
Hank had tracked too hastily this time, with no chance to notify others for support, forcing him to rely on this method to send a signal.
"Next, let our most devout follower receive the Moth Mother’s blessing!"
One of the priests stood up.
The congregated followers included people of all ages, from merchants to paupers, even nobles. Among the envious gazes, a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy stepped forward. His right arm seemed congenitally deformed, looking malformed and undeveloped, with a wrist and fingers twisted to the size of a baby’s.
"Praise the great Mother of Infinite Change!"
The other priest led the boy to the center of the altar, surveying the kneeling congregation as he chanted: "You are the Mother of Life and Death of the old self, and the Mother of Eternal Life and Change of the new self!"
"You are the Light Chaser in the dark!"
"You are the seeker in the endless night, guiding people to eternal life!"
"You are the generous, merciful, and great Moth Mother!..."
The expression of the gray-robed priest grew increasingly ecstatic, and the surrounding believers seemed infected, suddenly becoming excited and devout. Hank’s mind wavered slightly but quickly regained composure; this was a fervent ritual, a form of supernatural power.
"Come forth, child."
"Receive the new life bestowed by the Moth Mother!"
Called by the gray-robed priest, the boy with the deformed right arm nervously walked over, lying down at the altar’s center. As the priest sliced his arm with a dagger, strands of fresh blood seeped into the altar, revealing an eerie moth-like totem beneath.
"Praise the great Moth Mother!"
"You are both death and new life!"
As the priest loudly called out, other followers also shouted in excitement, with sweat appearing on Hank’s forehead as he nervously mimicked their actions.
Today, he caught a big fish!
These weren’t just ordinary cultists; they worshipped and followed the powers of old.
And they have indeed summoned the ancient power.
White threads emerged from beneath the altar, initially resembling delicate fungal strands before turning into animated silk, wrapping around the boy’s deformed right arm, becoming a white cocoon that enveloped it completely.
Lying at the altar, the boy appeared to enter a deep sleep.
When Hank subtly shifted his gaze, his pupils contracted again upon seeing within the white cocoon; the boy’s congenitally malformed arm was dissolving.
Flesh and bone were breaking down, being reshaped and recreated.
As the gray-robed priest sliced open the white cocoon on the boy’s arm with a dagger, a newly formed healthy, complete, and white arm had emerged.
Exclamations resounded from all around!
Even under the ritual’s influence, many believers couldn’t help but stir; among them were commoners, merchants, and nobles alike. A noble-looking elder in his fifties or sixties excitedly removed his hood, crawling devoutly to the front of the altar, fervently crying: "Great Moth Mother, grant me new life!... I offer half of my wealth!..."
"No!... All of it!... I offer all of my wealth!..."
A gray-robed priest helped the boy up from the altar. Seeing his newly formed arm, the boy was overcome with emotion, finding himself unable to utter a word.
Another priest approached the elder, speaking gently: "The great Moth Mother cares not for money or wealth."
"She values only purity of heart and the courage to pursue the light!"
"Do you have the courage to chase the light?"
This question suddenly stumped the elder before him. He gazed at the boy, now fully restored to a normal appearance, torn and hesitant within. He didn’t know what the light was, nor did he long for it—only for new life, curative of his aged and painfully afflicted body.
The gray-robed priest saw his hesitation, slowly saying: "Will you accept the trial of the Moth Mother?"
"Pursue the light of eternal night, the light in the darkness, the final light..."
The elderly noble trembled all over; he didn’t know if he could pursue the light but knew he was nearing death, beyond even the finest doctors’ aid.
The believers around became frenzied.
But among the crowd below the altar, Hank was trembling slightly. Although other believers were trembling too, theirs was a tremor of excitement, whereas Hank’s was one of fear.
These are not ordinary cultists. This is a clan of the old days, cultists who received the old day’s grace as humans.
It’s been nearly ten years since Dorne City encountered such a terrifying enemy.
"No way!"
"We must notify headquarters immediately. They are truly too dangerous!" Hank’s breathing was hastened.
On the altar.
The old man dressed in noble attire was still hesitating, but the youth beside him excitedly stood up and said to him, "As long as you devoutly believe in the Mother of Moths, you can receive her grace!"
"Look at my hand, it has completely returned to normal."
"Praise the Mother of Change, of Death and Rebirth!"
The old man gazed at the youth’s newly regrown healthy arm, his eyes full of fervor. Finally, he extended an aged, shriveled arm, trembling, "I am willing to embrace the trial of the Great Mother of Moths!"
The gray-robed priest showed a slight smile.
He gestured an invitation, speaking gently, "Come. Ascend the altar, receive the blessing of the Mother of Moths, cast off the old self, and embrace rebirth!"
The old man removed his robe, trembling as he walked up.
"Believers."
"Witness this moment! Witness the miracle of the Great Mother of Moths! Witness the birth of an immortal!..." The priest’s fervent words made the surrounding believers tremble incessantly.
Immortal?
Even the Legendary Destiny cannot achieve immortality!
Hank watched the changes on the altar, one hand already touching his handgun.
Buzz.
The entire altar lightly trembled, as the old man lay on the moth-like altar totem, slender white threads appeared once more, resembling silkworm silk, completely enveloping him, and within minutes, transformed him into a thorough cocoon human!
"Embrace death and rebirth! Embrace change in life!"
"Let us pray for him."
"Pray that he can pass the Mother of Moths’ test!" The grey-robed priest also knelt down.
In Hank’s line of sight.
The old man on the altar, after being wrapped in silk and becoming a cocoon human, began to tremble slightly, then fell into slumber. In his dreams, the reflection of the moth overlapped with his flesh, and then his body began to melt bit by bit, first the flesh of the face, then the eyes, bones, brain, internal organs, and so forth.
Eventually, he melted into a foul, wriggling pool of blood inside the white silk cocoon!
"Dead?" Hank’s body trembled slightly.
No!
He is not dead yet.
The completely melted flesh did not perish completely; under the influence of some power, it began to reshape, started rebirth, began to coalesce into a new body.
It started off in a human form, a younger, healthier middle-aged man. But soon, his body underwent a transformation.
He did not desire the light, nor did he have the courage to follow it!
The Mother of Moths abandoned him.
His body mutated, no longer resembling a human!
By the altar, two grey-robed priests exchanged a glance, a hint of disappointment on their faces.
A failure of the trial.
The old man did not pass the Mother of Moths’ test, but they would continue to maintain the ritual.
An bizarre creature like a combination of moth and human was reborn in the cocoon, with jointed limbs, a humanoid torso, gray-white wings unfurling behind, huge insect compound eyes, facial features somewhat resembling a human, but the jaw was completely split into mouthparts.
It became a cocoon human trapped inside the white cocoon.
But it seemed that those around were completely unaware, their eyes veiled by the Illusion Technique.
"Complete metamorphosis development!..."
"Insect’s Law of Life."
"This is the Old Day’s authority in the Life Domain." Hank buried his head, not daring to act rashly.
Life form was reshaped.
Between death and rebirth, the old self was destroyed, the new self reshaped, remaking mortal flesh into a new husk, Mother of Eternity and Change, this is a terrifying power that only the Old Day could wield.
But alas, the recipient of this ritual did not withstand the trial, it ultimately couldn’t transform into a butterfly!
Inside the cocoon was only a twisted form, a monster filled with hatred towards life.
The Light Chaser will not favor those without the courage to embrace the light.
.........
