Chapter 28: Blood for the Blood God

Chapter28: Blood Sacrifice to the Blood God

A blast erupted, and all the water ghosts on the small boat fell into the water.

Two blasts followed, and the water ghosts in the river turned belly‑up.

The Mechanicus faithful aboard the steamship stared agape, while the holy blood‑swordsmen, mid‑slash, had nothing to say.

Reggie, having dropped his grenade, stood innocently at the rail, still clutching a grenade with its pin not pulled.

“Throw it into the water!”

A crewman shouted at him, Reggie hesitated for a heartbeat, then still tossed the primed grenade onto the small boat.

“Boom!”

Another deafening roar rang out; the few remaining water ghosts, terrified, fled madly, leaping from the steamship back into the water and quickly diving away.

In a fleeting glance, Chen Jian saw the webbed fins between their toes and the faintly cracked, scale‑like skin on their bodies.

The fierce battle, which had raged moments before, ended with astonishing speed; the bewildered crew all turned to Reggie, unsure how to regard him.

Damn, we were in the thick of it, and you come up with two grenades?

And you toss it toward the ship’s side?

Where did this idiot come from? Don’t you fear blowing the ship to pieces?—

That said, the water ghosts were indeed driven off, and his intentions were genuinely good.

It’s just… recklessly rash, isn’t it?!

A man with a hollow ship’s wheel hanging from his neck, gripping a single‑shot, wasteland‑style rifled gun, stepped up to Reggie and barked, eyes blazing:

“How could you do that?!”

“You nearly blew our ship to smithereens!”

“By the Holy Trinity, can’t you be less reckless?!”

Reggie glanced back at Chen Jian, who shrugged and said nothing.

So he could only answer evasively:

“I didn’t have time to think; I was terrified.”

“You don’t look terrified at all—you look like an idiot! An idiot!”

The captain, red‑faced, waved his rifle; Reggie stepped back two paces, fearing it might discharge.

“Now get back to your cabins, all of you!”

“And you! Xu Lie!”

“Keep an eye on your friends! Fighting monsters is our job—make them stay quietly out of the way!”

“.They’re just well‑meaning, too.”

Xu Lie coughed, stepped forward to block Reggie, and said:

“All right, all right, Big Anchor, enough.”

“I’ll give them a proper talking‑to; let’s keep sailing.”

“We need to shake off those water ghosts quickly; they might come back.”

“They won’t come back!”

The captain nicknamed Big Anchor spat rudely into the water, then said:

“That’s not your concern! After we disembark we’ll inspect the hull damage!”

“If the machine‑spirit of the Holy Steam is displeased, you must pay for the sacrifice!”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry—my friends are reasonable people.”

While speaking, Xu Lie grabbed Reggie’s arm and turned to leave.

He gestured to Chen Jian, who followed closely behind into the cabin.

After the cabin door shut, Xu Lie, both amused and resigned, said:

“God‑chosen ones, I know you have your own fighting style.”

“But as I said, you really ought to leave some margin.”

“Haven’t you noticed? This ship is made of wood.”

“If a grenade blows a hole in the hull, we’ll have to swim back.”

Chen Jian chuckled and replied:

“Rest easy, the grenades we tossed won’t harm the hull; they work only on living things.”

“Won’t damage the hull? That sounds like some ridiculous Mechanicus magic.”

Xu Lie furrowed his brow slightly, curious, and asked:

“Why won’t it damage?”

“It’s simply a divine truth.”

Chen Jian answered offhand.

He had no intention of explaining to Xu Lie why the thermobaric grenade doesn’t wreck fortifications—this “knowledge from the gods” might be clear to him, but the listener may not grasp it.

Rather than waste time, it would be better to ask him what these so‑called water ghosts actually are.

“So where do these water ghosts come from, and why are they attacking the transport ship?”

“Given the level of intelligence these water ghosts display, I don’t think there’s anything here worth their while.”

“You’re as perceptive as ever.” Xu Lie sighed wistfully, then said:

“It’s obvious you’ve never seen water ghosts before, yet in just a few minutes of contact you’ve grasped the essence of this attack.”

“This is probably the true ‘divine truth,’ after all.”

He paused, then continued:

“Exactly, just as you saw, the water ghosts’ assault isn’t for any resource.”

“Their attack stems solely from an instinctual, perverse desire.”

“They are obsessed with killing, bloodshed, violence, and abuse; any living thing is a target for their hunt.”

“Among those targets, the more similar a living creature is to them, the more it satisfies their craving.”

“Thus, humans are forever at the top of their kill list—of course, they also slaughter each other.”

“Even the water ghosts’ arch‑enemies are the ashore monsters called the Terror Demons.”

“Along the Han River, their feud has lasted at least decades; sometimes I wonder why they haven’t wiped each other out in mutual slaughter.”

“Terror Demons?”

Chen Jian noted the new term Xu Lie uttered and promptly asked:

“And what exactly are they?”

“It’s like a water ghost, except water ghosts live in water while dread demons live on shore.”

“Both monsters are products of the same mutation—you may have noticed that water ghosts have a skull‑like scar on their chests, which is their mark.”

“I did see it.”

Chen Jian nodded slowly, then asked doubtfully:

“But that doesn’t make sense—if they’ve formed a collective totem, why do they act so foolishly?”

“Because it isn’t a totem branded by humans.”

Xu Lie patiently explained:

“Whether water ghosts, dread demons, or the ghouls that roam most of this continent, they all share a common name.”

“Blood Skulls.”

“The name comes from the skull pattern on their chests.”

“That pattern stems from a mutation; after a Blood Skull newborn is born, it spreads across the chest as a rash of bright‑red blisters, hence the name Blood Skull.”

“The blisters fade as they grow, eventually leaving a scar shaped like a skull.”

“That is their origin.”

“That sounds quite plausible.”

“So‑called Blood Skulls are probably some kind of genetic disease?”

Chen Jian silently noted the information about water ghosts and Blood Skulls, but just as he was about to pull out his PDA to update the data, a crew member’s shout suddenly came from outside the cabin.

“The Han River is here! We’ll dock shortly!”

Chen Jian’s spirits lifted, and he followed Xu Lie out of the cabin once more.

In his memory, the prosperous Han River district lay far on the horizon, but the landmark White Sand Isle and Jiaoyu Bridge were near at hand.

Except that the bridge had collapsed.

Chen Jian stared intently at the broken deck of the bridge, and as the steamship drew nearer he also noticed that something seemed to be moving on the deck.

He silently pulled a spyglass from his pocket, avoiding the gaze of the Machine God cult’s crew, and observed the bridge.

It was a group of people.

To be precise, it was a group of Blood Skulls.

They were hoisting a mangled but still‑alive body onto a shattered steel framework.

The hoisted figure struggled wildly, but the iron hooks through her wrists and ankles locked her fast to the frame.

Blood welled forth, and the Blood Skulls swarmed over it, licking the blood from the ground.

Next, someone brandished a rust‑streaked sheet of iron and scraped open her skin.

Flesh turned to pulp in an instant, as if the person were scooping out fruit mash.

Chen Jian frowned, silent, forcing himself to watch on.

Only when the steamship passed the bridge did the Blood Skulls’ torment finally end.

The woman’s body had long been torn apart, while her head had been carefully severed and placed neatly upon a stone pedestal.

Her head still bore the terrified expression of her agonized struggle before death.

Xu Lie, standing beside Chen Jian, witnessed the same scene.

His hand rested on the pistol at his waist as he spoke:

“This is the Blood Skulls’ rite.”

“Blood offered to the blood‑god, skulls given to the skull‑throne!”

(End of chapter)