Chapter 187
His incantation was truly solemn.
The low, rumbling sound seemed to spread across the ground, and instead of ringing in the ears, it vibrated the body as if conveying its meaning. But even that sound, perhaps blocked by divine power, couldn't escape beyond the sacred rope, and instead made the talismans attached here and there vibrate, causing them to shed black tears.
Black tears.
Drip, drip.
The small droplets gathering in black color formed clearly like condensation on walls in winter, or like droplets on a glass containing a drink with a temperature not matching the season, growing in size.
And one drop.
Two drops.
The black pearl-like droplets fell silently, staining the ground black, and the black tears, as if trying to cry out their sorrow without a mouth, emitted a nose-tickling smell instead of a silent cry of grief.
A smell emitted as if in desperation.
A nose-tickling smell of mold.
The black, tainted tears fell and fell, staining the ground black.
And like mold spreading its influence on walls, it spread, staining the ground black.
Black.
And, blacker.
Jinseong spoke again, watching the mold-laden tears stain the ground.
"Cure the Dutch elm disease."
As Jinseong's incantation resonated, vibrations spread again.
And this time, the vibrations moved along the ground and climbed up the trees, reaching the sacred ropes woven between the trees to define the area.
The finely trembling sacred rope twitched as if pulled by an invisible hand, and it shook so feebly, so weakly and trivially, as if the hand's owner were a newborn baby unable to properly clench its fist, desperately showing its presence.
And that frustration soon turned into tears.
Black moisture gathered on the sagging sacred rope, becoming stems, droplets, and black paint staining the ground.
The paint fell and stained the ground, from points to lines, from lines to planes.
Thus, it began to 'contaminate' the temporary shrine by staining the ground black and creating black lines between the trees.
"Cure the Chestnut blight."
When the sacred rope shed tears, the trees that could be called its pillars were not unaffected.
Fine lines began to be drawn all over the trees, and the network created by tiny threads instantly engulfed the trees and began to force itself inside. And once it deemed it had sufficiently penetrated, it even erased all traces of itself by completely removing the network it had created on the outside, and began to create its own world solely inside the trees.
Slowly.
But quickly.
The movement that should have been slower than a slug was accelerated by the power of sorcery, and even before the mold could form mycelium, the inside of the contaminated trees provided them with an excellent, no, even perfect habitat.
"Like the Jack-o'-Lantern mushroom (Panellus stipticus) emits light, illuminate the darkness."
The blackened ground began to create strange and wondrous changes.
Like green sprouts emerging and coloring the dry desert after a downpour.
Like withered grass blooming flowers after receiving a sip of life-giving water.
Thus, mushrooms began to quietly sprout from the ground.
They weren't extravagantly beautiful.
They didn't sparkle in the sunlight.
There was no pungent, fragrant smell either.
But the mushrooms had the humility to hide themselves among the decaying fallen leaves, the tenacity to grow even without the barely shining sunlight, and the individuality to show their own colors, though not as beautiful as flowers.
"As Psilocybe cubensis has given ecstasy, let it bring humble humans closer to the divine and guide them."
Jinseong chanted incantations among the sprouting mushrooms.
"Punish and control the lowly creatures with Ophiocordyceps, bringing them under your control, and receive praise from people through the fear and awe derived from it, embrace humans with psilocybin, and save the weeds and flowers that will bloom, nestled in the shade without receiving Apollo's gaze."
And as the incantations were chanted, the ground turned black, and the vibrations from Jinseong's voice spread through the gaps between the fallen leaves and damp moisture on the ground.
And.
"Oh great god who is the very principle of nature itself and influences everything from the lowliest creatures to humans. Great being who surely exists between the vast forests, and whose followers will not disappear as long as all living things exist. From the shade to beneath the sun, from the wind in the sky to the damp places underground. From Apollo's gaze to Ploutos' realm. I offer a sacrifice to the great being who can exist and project power in all these places."
Finally, the words that were both an incantation and a blessing, and simultaneously announced the start of the ritual, came to an end.
Jinseong took out a bundle of silk from his luggage, placed it on the ground, and sprinkled gasoline on it.
Then he lit Samadhi fire and flicked his finger to set it on fire.
Whoosh.
The small flame began to burn vigorously, using the silk as fuel, and the smoke that appeared, emitting a foul and acrid smell from whatever was burning, began to rise like a snake towards the sky. However, thanks to the divine power, the smoke was cut off in the middle instead of rising high into the sky, and thus the sacrificial offering was burned without catching anyone's eye.
Sacrifice.
A sacrifice offered to the gods.
That which should be the most precious, the most valuable, the best that humans can offer.
However, when the silk shell that had been covering it was completely burned away, the true nature of the sacrifice was the opposite.
Small, ugly potatoes covered in colorful mold and sprouting disgusting shoots.
Pork that had somehow shriveled up and was densely covered in mold on its surface.
Bread covered in black bread mold (Rhizopus stolonifer).
Even fruits that had burst open and were covered in mold.
They were all disgusting to look at, emitted terrible and foul smells, and seemed like they would make you vomit and need your stomach pumped at the hospital if you ate even a bite.
These 'were' foods in such a terrible state that even a homeless person who hadn't eaten for three days wouldn't look at them, let alone consider them the most precious offerings.
They were in such a terrible state that instead of receiving blessings in return for the sacrifice, they seemed more likely to bring down curses under the name of divine punishment.
Come.
But Jinseong did not fear divine punishment.
Rather, his eyes shone as if he desired divine punishment, and he expected sorcery that would have the opposite effect of its original purpose.
And finally.
Rustle.
Divine punishment descended.
The divine punishment was damp and immediate.
Robigus's blessing, which should have prevented rust and disease, turned into a curse and descended upon the earth. The curse that started from the sacrifice stained the ground black and clung to the surrounding trees, burrowing into their bases. And the trees that had been stubbornly surviving despite the environment where they couldn't properly absorb nutrients due to insufficient sunlight and narrow spacing, immediately began to wither as they were struck by the disease born from the curse.
Brown spots appeared on the leaves that had been painted a deep green to receive even a little more sunlight. They changed to yellow, then brown, becoming far from healthy, and shriveled up like the wrinkles of a dying old person, losing their strength.
However, apart from the leaves, no noticeable changes occurred.
Thanks to the mold that had already burrowed inside, the stems could appear intact.
If one looked inside, they would see that the mold had settled in neatly like moving into an apartment, creating its own network.
And with the end of Robigus's divine punishment, the ground began to regain its color.
The ground that had emitted a pitch-black light soaked in black tears changed to a deep yellow color emitted by damp moisture, and the ashes left from the burned sacrifice were absorbed into the ground as if melting. The mushrooms that had sprouted here and there turned black as if absorbing the color by spreading their roots on the surface of the black ground, and the black tears falling from the talismans and sacred ropes stopped crying as if they were now satisfied.
And finally, when even the musty smell emitted by the mold disappeared.
All the preparations he could make were complete.
Now, the success of the task depended on heaven's help, human will.
And the network of mold spreading underground would accomplish it.
Heaven and earth, and humans. This too is 3. Truly auspicious.
* * *
Night fell quickly on the mountain.