42: Chapter 42 The High Priest Interprets Dreams

The three exited the secret realm and found themselves in the forest on the outskirts of Wusa Town. They returned to the tavern.

"Go in," Wu Xi said.

Pushing the door open, a strong smell of alcohol mixed with the charred scent of roasted meat rushed to meet them. Inside, the lights were dim and yellow. Old Hei sat in the corner, with an old man wearing ceremonial robes sitting opposite him.

The edges of the robes were frayed, and the color had faded to that of old blood. A string of bronze bells hung from his waist, swaying gently with his laughter and emitting a faint, tinkling sound.

The two were facing a jar of wine, laughing so loudly that the dust on the rafters came falling down in showers.

Just as Wu Xi's foot crossed the threshold, the old man turned his head. His eyes were half-open and half-closed, and the smell of alcohol puffed from his mouth, yet his gaze was like two hooks, pinning Wu Xi to the spot.

"Thank you for retrieving the sacred fork bell, young man." The old man raised his pottery bowl, the wine sloshing inside and reflecting the lamplight with a silvery glow. "Come and have a drink with this old man. The Moon Wine of your Mimei Rat clan is famous throughout the world."

"Oh?" Wu Xi walked forward two steps; his boots creaked on the wooden floor. He had no expression on his face, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly. "You have a keen eye, old sir."

Old Hei stood up, laughed heartily, and slapped Wu Xi on the shoulder with a palm as large as a cattail fan, making him sway slightly. "Come, come, let me introduce you! This is Atal, the High Priest of the Ulthar Cat Tribe! He just arrived and healed everyone's injuries!"

High Priest Atal took another gulp of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing. The wine trickled down from the corner of his mouth, landing on the robes at his chest and spreading into a dark stain.

He wiped his mouth, chuckled, and revealed two yellowed fangs. "Young man, sit."

Wu Xi sat down.

The pottery bowl was pushed in front of him; the wine was silvery-white, like melted moonlight.

Wu Xi picked up the bowl but didn't drink, asking instead, "Since the High Priest recognizes the sacred fork bell, you should also recognize the other items on me."

"I do not," the High Priest waved his hand, pouring himself another bowl. The wine swirled in the bowl. "I only recognize wine and the Cat God."

"The last time I drank Moon Wine," Wu Xi stared into the High Priest's eyes—the eyes were half-squinted, the whites yellowed—"I saw a city, a city on the ocean floor. Coral grew from the cracks in the stones, the palace was half-collapsed, and there was a sound... like something was breathing."

The High Priest's eyebrows lifted. He set down the wine bowl, the bottom clicking against the table with a crisp sound. The bronze bells vibrated, giving a tinkling sound.

"Rlyeh," the High Priest said.

"May I ask, High Priest," Wu Xi pushed the bowl forward, causing the wine to ripple, "how do I interpret this dream?"

The High Priest stared at him for a long while before suddenly laughing. He laughed until his shoulders shook, and the wine stains on his robes trembled. The bronze bells at his waist clattered, like a flock of startled birds.

"Interpret a dream?" The High Priest grabbed the wine jar, tilted his head back, and took another gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing. He set the jar down and slammed his palm onto the table, making the bowls and plates jump. The wine jar wobbled and nearly tipped over.

"Close your eyes." Wu Xi did as he was told.

In the darkness, the High Priest's voice seemed to drift from a great distance, yet also felt like it was right against his ear. "Moon Wine is the key. It does not open the door to memory, but the lock of the Bloodline. You saw Rlyeh; what is important is..."

The voice suddenly cut off.

Beneath Wu Xi's eyelids, a burst of light exploded. It was not lamplight, but silvery-white light, like solidified moonlight, stinging his eyeballs. He saw the city on the ocean floor reappear, coral growing wildly from the cracks in the stones like tumors growing from bone. The palace dome was so high the end was invisible, and something was writhing in the darkness, scales scraping against stone walls, making a rustling sound. Water pressure pressed against his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs bit by bit, and a salty, metallic, rusty taste rose in his throat.

"...The city is gone." The High Priest's voice started up again, but the tone had changed; it sounded like he was sleep-talking, or perhaps singing. "It is 'erased.' Overnight, it was wiped from the ocean floor. Along with the things that lived inside, it all vanished. Water poured in, filling every hole, but the city was no longer there."

"However," the High Priest's mouth suddenly curled up, "someone once encountered... Dagon by the sea."

"Dagon?"

"A cyclopean, scaled-armed creature." The High Priest gestured in the air; the motion was so exaggerated it was like he was drawing a mountain. His arm swept through the air, bringing up a gust that made the lamplight flicker. "It was once an inhabitant of Rlyeh, a servant of the great Cthulhu. The city is gone, but Dagon is still swimming in the sea, which means the city is not entirely gone; it is possible it is hidden. Like a clam hiding a pearl in its shell, you cannot find it, but it is still there."

Wu Xi licked his dry lips, his tongue tasting a hint of salt—it was the sweat from just a moment ago. "What does Cthulhu look like?"

The High Priest leaned back, the wooden chair groaning under the strain, its legs scraping against the floor with a harsh, screeching sound. He squinted, as if remembering or perhaps inventing a story. His fingers tapped on the table—thump, thump, thump, thump—the rhythm like a heartbeat.

"The Sleeping God." The High Priest's voice became slow, enunciating every word. Each word sounded like it had been dredged from the bottom of a wine jar, carrying the musty smell of age. "An octopus head, a mass of Tentacles hanging on its face like a beard. A Dragon's body, with claws on both front and back feet, and wings trailing behind. The scales are like rubber, greenish, fat like a mountain. The eyes..."

He suddenly stopped, his eyeballs turning toward Wu Xi, his pupils contracting into vertical slits in the lamplight.

"The eyes are closed. Always sleeping. Sleeping for who knows how many years." Wu Xi's heart beat faster, and he thought of Tentacle Lady's Tentacles.

Tentacle Lady also had Tentacles—soft, moist, and carrying the chill of the deep sea. Did they have a connection to Cthulhu?

But Tentacle Lady's Tentacles, and Cthulhu's Tentacles...

Wu Xi licked his dry lips, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Where can I see an image of him? A painting, a stone carving, anything will do."

The High Priest was silent for a long time.

The wine jar was empty. He looked down at the bottom of the jar and shook it; not a single drop of wine poured out.

"You can go to Dylath-Leen to take a boat to Oriba Island and try your luck. Rumor has it that the stone pillars of Mount Ngranek on Oriba Island record scenes of the gods dancing in revelry."

After he finished speaking, he said nothing more.

"I can only say this much." The High Priest stood up, his robes sweeping across the floor and kicking up a cloud of dust. He patted Wu Xi on the shoulder, his palm heavy like a stone pressing down. "Young man, good luck."

Liao Su stepped forward, his palm steadily supporting the High Priest's unsteady arm. He turned to the side and bowed deeply to Gray Fur behind the counter, his back bent straight, his voice heavy like lead, carrying uncontrollable guilt. "Uncle Gray Fur, I'm sorry."

Gray Fur's round eyes widened, his claws waving rapidly as he leaned out from behind the counter, his pointed ears twitching. "Between uncle and nephew, there's no need to talk about this."

Liao Su didn't say anything more; he just nodded heavily at Gray Fur, then supported the High Priest. The two of them, one in front of the other, walked with steady steps toward the back door of the tavern.

The wooden door creaked open, and their figures flickered. Without leaving even a trace of footsteps, the wooden door closed gently, separating the two worlds inside and out.

A soft sound suddenly came from the shadows, and Qi Ling walked out slowly. His face was still pale, and the Qi and blood that had been shaken by the ancient Divine Might had not yet settled, but his eyes were startlingly bright.

He stood before Wu Xi, his voice slightly hoarse but every word clear. "I am leaving. Returning home to acknowledge my ancestors. Wu Xi, let us meet again if fate allows."

Wu Xi nodded slightly, said nothing more, and reached out his hand directly.

Qi Ling raised his hand to meet him; his palm was ice-cold. The two hands gripped firmly for a moment, without any unnecessary pleasantries, and then let go.

Qi Ling turned, his black hem sweeping across the threshold; with a flash, he was gone without a trace. The wooden door was swayed by a draft, not fully closed, leaving a gap an inch wide.

The night wind outside snaked in through the gap, carrying the coldness of the wilderness, causing the tallow lamp on the table to jump suddenly. The light and shadows flickered violently against the stone walls, making the already empty tavern appear even more desolate.

Only then did Gray Fur completely poke his head out from behind the counter, his round eyes darting around, his two pointed ears standing straight up, even the fluff on the tips of his ears bristling.

He scratched his ear, and his chatterbox opened up, like a river with its sluice gates opened, unstoppable. "I have to go back too, Wu Xi. Over at the Mimei Rat tribe, although we lost some men and had quite a bit of trouble this time, we've finally cleaned up the mess, which counts as Perfection. Dylath-Leen is just to the south of Wusa Town; a fast horse will get you there in half a day. The path is monitored by the cat tribe, so it's very safe. I won't accompany you further. When you finish your business and come back, we'll return to this tavern, and I'll take out the aged fruit wine I've been hiding for thirty years, and we'll chat properly for three days and three nights."

Wu Xi looked at him, his gaze steady, his voice without a ripple. "Goodbye, Gray Fur."

Gray Fur grinned, hopped off the counter, and scrambled away with his short little legs. When he reached the door, he suddenly braked, turned back, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "We will definitely meet again! I've memorized your scent! Even if you run to the ends of the earth, I'll be able to find you!"

As his voice fell, with a "clack," the wooden door was slammed shut by him, making the copper wine cup on the table hum softly.

The tavern fell completely silent, leaving only the crackle of the burning lamp wick and the faint sounds of Old Hei wiping cups behind the counter. In the vast space, only Wu Xi and Old Hei remained.

Wu Xi slowly stood up, his bones and muscles emitting a dull cracking sound; the tissues that had been injured by the ancient Divine Might were still slowly recovering.

He walked to the counter and tapped his fingertips on the black wooden surface, his voice as deep as the black stone outside Wusa Town. "Old Hei, prepare a fast horse for me, the fastest one you have."

Old Hei lifted his eyelids, his hand not stopping as he wiped the cup, and responded with a muffled word: "Very well."