novelhk Chapter 6: Cutting Through the Cliff
Chapter 6: Cutting Through the Cliff
In the darkness, Chen Motong's fingertips brushed across the cold metal surface of the kitchen counter, finally grasping a heavy meat cleaver. The wooden handle, worn smooth by time, nestled comfortably in his palm, bringing a fleeting sense of security. The blade, illuminated by the pale snowlight outside the window, gleamed with a solitary, chilling light.
The sounds from upstairs descended. More than one—the chilling rustling of four-limbed crawling, mixed with the unhurried footsteps of leather shoes on the old wooden planks. They had arrived, as composed as if surveying their own territory.
Chen Motong's back pressed against the cold bar counter, her heart pounding like a drum, the air in her lungs seemingly frozen into ice shards, yet her fingers gripping the knife hilt tightened even more, her knuckles turning white. She could hear the sound of her blood rushing to her eardrums, but her attention, like a taut bowstring, was entirely focused on the approaching footsteps.
Three steps, two steps, one step—
It's now!
Without warning, her figure shot up like an arrow released from a bow! The blade sliced through the stagnant air, emitting a short, sharp whistle. All her training, all her shock and anger, all her fear and revulsion towards the wax figure in the basement, were fused into this simple, straightforward thrust, like a viper striking for the neck that emerged from the shadows of the porch!
However, instead of the smooth, cutting sensation of the blade piercing flesh, she encountered an invisible wall of air that seemed to solidify. No, worse than that—her arm, her will, betrayed her at the last moment, freezing in mid-air.
Chen Motong's pupils suddenly contracted, and his hand holding the knife trembled slightly.
Standing before her was not some vicious enemy, but... her mother. The beautiful yet fragile woman from her memories, long gone, was looking at her with familiar yet sorrowful eyes.
"Mom..." A trembling syllable escaped from her throat.
It's fake! An illusion! Chen Motong's reason screamed. She knew she'd fallen for it, trapped in the snare the other party had woven. But emotions surged like a tidal wave, instantly drowning out that pitiful beacon of reason. Facing that face, those eyes, her knife-wielding arm felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, unable to move forward even an inch. A chill crept up her spine—not fear of the enemy, but fear of her own current weakness and bewilderment.
"Mother" tilted her head slightly, a familiar yet heartbreaking smile blooming on her lips, and slowly raised her hand. She could only watch helplessly as "Mother" opened her arms and embraced her.
Almost at the very moment that icy touch was about to arrive—
Clang!
A single note, cold and resolute, as if struck from the depths of an polar glacier! It was a piano piece, "Moonlight Sonata." The melody she had heard during the day pierced through the thick walls of the hotel, through the howling wind and snow, and suddenly stabbed into her mind!
The image of the "mother" before him trembled and distorted violently, like a television screen with a poor signal. Her gentle features began to melt, flow, and recombine, as if countless maggots were wriggling beneath her skin, reshaping her contours. In the span of a single heartbeat, that sorrowful and beautiful face collapsed and swelled into another form—greasy, flushed, with large pores, and her eyes burning with undisguised lust and a desire for control—it was Pedro!
His raised arm was only half a foot away from wrapping around her waist!
From the extreme psychological shock to the nausea of being violated, the transition happened in an instant. Enraged, Chen Motong didn't hesitate for a moment; with a flick of his wrist, the frozen blade transformed into a silver arc!
"die!"
A suppressed roar and a flash of blade erupted simultaneously! With a flick of the wrist, the stagnant blade transformed into a silver lightning bolt shooting upwards!
"laugh--!"
The dull thud of flesh being torn apart was accompanied by the sudden burst of the sweet, metallic smell of fresh blood! The cut was ruthless and precise, almost slicing off a chunk of flesh from Pedro's forearm!
"Ugh!" Pedro cried out in pain, but with a twisted sense of pleasure.
Without pausing, Chen Motong used the force of the spin to draw an even smaller arc, slicing towards the opponent's thick, short neck with bulging veins!
"roar!!!"
A ferocious roar, far beyond what a human could produce, swept in from the side, accompanied by a foul stench! Chen Motong felt as if his side had been struck by a speeding truck, his ribs groaning under the strain, his entire body flying off the ground, the scenery spinning rapidly before his eyes, and then his back slamming hard against a solid stone wall!
"Bang!"
A dull thud echoed through the kitchen. A sharp pain exploded in her back, spreading to every limb and bone; a sweet taste rose in her throat, the metallic tang of blood. Her vision blurred, her ears rang, and the knife in her hand had long since flown to who-knows-where.
"Cough...cough cough..." She coughed up blood-tinged saliva and used all her strength to lift her eyelids, which felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
Pedro stood a few steps away, clutching his bleeding, bone-exposing arm, a bizarre smile twisting his face. It wasn't anger, but a ecstatic pleasure mixed with pain and fervor, a fascination with watching the prey struggle. With his uninjured hand, he affectionately patted the rough, gray-haired head of the "thing" beside him.
"Good dog! Good dog! You're such a good boy, Daddy!"
Upon hearing the sound, the "thing" made a satisfied gurgling sound in its throat, and even rubbed its scaly and bristly cheek against Pedro's hand in a fawning manner.
Chen Motong then saw its full appearance—a human-shaped outline, but crouching in a canine posture.
One side of its face was covered in dark blue, tightly packed dragon scales that gleamed with a metallic sheen in the dim light of the hearth; the other side was twisted human skin, covered with overgrown keratin and scars. Its hands (or rather, its forepaws) had prominent phalanges, ending in curved, sharp black claws that dug deep into the wooden floorboards.
Most terrifying of all were its eyes: its right eye was a molten gold, burning with a frenzied, bestial energy; its left eye, however, was a murky, grayish-white, lifeless and dull. At this moment, the monster was staring intently at Chen Motong with its intact golden right eye, thick saliva dripping from its gaping, fang-filled mouth, pooling into a small puddle on the filthy floor.
This is the source of the rustling crawling sound. A person, or rather, someone who was once a person. A dragon-shaped dead servant who had been completely corrupted from a super hybrid, losing both human form and intelligence, yet tamed like a domestic dog.
"We meet again, Miss Chen, my dear... red-haired wild horse." Pedro caught his breath, his gaze sweeping over Chen Motong's body, which was writhing in pain yet still undulating, before finally settling on her disheveled, dark red hair. His eyes blazed with a perverse excitement. "This time, we can finally... get to know each other properly. You're practically identical to that oriental treasure I acquired twenty years ago... both are top-tier gems!"
A violent churning sensation gripped Chen Motong's stomach, a nausea even more intense than when she'd seen the wax figure in the basement. She gritted her teeth, enduring the burning pain in her ribs, and using trembling elbows to push herself up, bit by bit, from the cold floor. Her gaze swept quickly across the kitchen—the door was completely blocked off; the only exit was the window facing the cliff, now rattling loudly in the gale. Outside, thick, inky fog churned, and the darkness seemed bottomless, echoing with the roar of crashing waves.
"I don't want to see you again, you piece of trash!" She spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, her voice hoarse from the pain, but filled with undisguised contempt. "Put away your perverted collecting obsession; it's disgusting to look at."
"Oh? Disgust? Hahaha..." Pedro burst into laughter as if he had heard a brilliant joke, which aggravated his wounds, causing him to wince in pain. But this only made the light in his eyes even more morbid. "Soon...soon you will find out who is the master here. Disgust? Resistance? These are all part of the process...necessary seasonings."
He bent down with difficulty, and with his intact hand, he almost gently stroked the rough, bristly hair on the humanoid monster's head. His voice became deep and seductive, as if he were telling a beautiful fairy tale: "Look at my little baby, how well-behaved he is. Do you know, his mother was just as beautiful as you, just as proud and arrogant... In terms of strength, speed, and extraordinary abilities, I am not much stronger than an ant in front of her."
His tone suddenly became excited, "But what happened to her in the end? She still fell into my hands! For three whole years, more than a thousand days and nights, I slowly and patiently... ground her down, broke her bones, crushed her pride... You can't imagine how... docile, how loyal she became in the end. I made her kneel, and she would never dare to stand up; I pointed in a direction, and she crawled faster than any hunting dog!"
"That was truly... an intoxicating, dreamlike time." Pedro straightened up, his gaze once again greedily licking Chen Motong's face, especially the expression on her face that was a mixture of anger and stubbornness. "Over the years, I've missed it every single day... until I saw you, Miss Chen."
The monster let out a low growl in response, its single golden eye fixed on Chen Motong, drool dripping from the corner of its open mouth.
He took a step closer, and the monster followed suit. "You fierce little mare, you burning flame... I will tame you, and let you bloom on my stage with an eternal beauty, a beauty intertwined with pain and submission. Only then will you be worthy of the paradise I have been working on for twenty years. You will be my next perfect masterpiece."
His words were like the spitting of a viper, filled with a desire for control and a chillingly perverse obsession.
Chen Motong felt a bone-chilling cold, even more intense than the wind and snow outside the window.
"A stage? Your junkyard piled high with body parts and twisted fantasies?" She forced a trembling laugh, trying to provoke him, even if only for a second, to create an opening. "Treating torture as art? Taking the control of the weak as an achievement? Pedro, you're nothing but a pathetic old codger, only daring to masturbate to your own distorted reflection in the shadows!"
Pedro seemed to read her mind, his smile widening to reveal his yellowed teeth: "Sharp tongue. But it doesn't matter, you'll soon be speechless. Once I've poured the special medicine down your throat, you'll be as soft as melting snow in spring. Then, you'll strike all the poses I've designed, pleading with me through those beautiful eyes of yours."
"Don't even think about running away, and don't even think about dying. I have all the time and methods I need to make you more obedient than that woman from twenty years ago..."
He lost his patience, like a cat playing with a mouse, and suddenly waved his hand, his voice sharp: "My darling, don't hurt her too badly, but teach her... to be quiet."
"roar!"
The humanoid dragon-like Dead Servant let out a low roar, its limbs slamming into the ground, its already massive body bulging with muscles, like a tightly compressed spring suddenly released, transforming into a gray-black afterimage, rushing straight towards Chen Motong with a stench! It was so fast that it left only a distorted trajectory on her retina.
It’s over.
Chen Motong's heart sank to the bottom. Bare-handed, wounded, facing a powerful, tamed dragon-like death servant and a deranged madman, he had no chance of victory. The consequences of being captured alive were a thousand times more terrifying than death—that beautiful yet tragic wax figure underground, that woman eternally frozen in humiliation… was that the tamed hybrid Pedro had spoken of? Would he become like that too?
She'd rather gamble with death!
The thought, like a burst of flame, instantly overwhelmed the fear and pain. Her gaze fell one last time on the rattling window. Outside the thick glass, there was billowing fog, howling wind, a bottomless, seemingly all-consuming dark cliff, and below, the faint roar of the raging sea.
There was no other choice.
Just before the claws, carrying a stench of blood, were about to touch the tips of her hair, before Pedro's face fully contorted into a cruel, expectant grin—
Chen Motong, this proud and fierce red-haired girl, used all the strength in her body, not to fight forward, but to resolutely slam her entire body weight backward!
"Bang—crash!!!"
The thick glass shattered with a crash! Countless glittering shards, set against the dim light inside and the endless darkness outside the window, shot out in all directions like suddenly exploding, cold diamond stars!
A biting, knife-like wind, carrying salty sea fog and snowflakes, rushed in through the broken window like a long-awaited behemoth! It instantly whipped up Chen Motong's disheveled long hair, tugged at her thin clothes, and the icy air choked her mouth and nose.
Most of her body was suspended in mid-air, with a dizzying abyss below. The strong wind made it almost impossible for her to open her eyes, but she still managed to turn her head and look into the kitchen one last time.
Her gaze passed over the frozen monster, fixed on Pedro's face, twisted with utter shock and rage. There was no fear, no tears, not even despair. Those eyes, which always held a mischievous or nonchalant glint, now burned with an intense, burning fury.
The biting wind tore at her voice, but she still strained to make every word clear, piercing through the echoing crack of shattering glass and the howling wind and snow, nailing it into Pedro's ears: "Scum! If I survive, I'll kill you to the ends of the earth!"
Before she finished speaking, her figure, like a resolute dark red leaf, plunged into the all-consuming, bottomless darkness and mist outside the window.
"No--!!!"
The cold wind howled, carrying away a muffled, angry roar from Pedro, and the crisp echo of shards of glass continuing to fall.
A solitary building on a cliff, inside a torture chamber.
Zhou Yi, who was confronting the man in the black dress in front of the piano, suddenly turned around.
The next moment, without the slightest hesitation, Zhou Yi grabbed the other person's shoulder blade with his left hand.
At the same time, two golden talismans appeared out of thin air between his right index and middle fingers.
The Three True Ones Return to the Treasure Talisman!
The two disappeared instantly.
In its place, only a neatly folded quilt and pillow remained, quietly placed on the cold ground—this was the spatial beacon replacement left behind after the activation of the second of the three True Returning Treasure Talismans that Zhou Yi had left in the hotel room beforehand.
On the second floor of the hotel, in their room, Zhou Yi and the man in the long dress appeared out of thin air.
The strong smell of blood, the lingering aura of violence, the faint roars from downstairs, and the wide-open, broken window downstairs, through which the cold wind howled—Zhou Yi quickly pieced together what had happened here.
"Clang!"
The Three Truths and Myriad Laws Sword, which had been kept in his pocket, transformed into a dazzling golden streak and shot out! As if it had a life of its own, it drew a sharp angle in the air, its tip pointing downwards, and crashed straight into the wooden floor beneath his feet!
"Pfft! Boom—!"
The sound of the sword easily piercing through the floor was followed by a deafening crash as the wooden planks shattered! The golden sword light, like a hot knife through butter, instantly pierced the floorboards and plummeted to the first floor!
Pedro's scream and the dragon-shaped death servant's wail immediately echoed from downstairs! The golden light faded, and through the hole, one could see the ancient bronze hilt suspended in mid-air. The blazing golden blade extending from it, along with the two solid sword shadows that split from the blade, were like a divine spear of judgment, impaling Pedro and the dragon, who had just recovered from the shock of Chen Motong jumping out of the window and were trying to do something, firmly to the ground!
The sword shadow pierced precisely through their shoulder blades and upper thighs, penetrating deep into the floor tiles. Only their heads were able to turn with difficulty, while the rest of their bodies were pressed firmly to the ground by the terrifying sword energy, unable to even tremble slightly.
As Zhou Yi was leaving his body, he leaped out of the window like a black lightning bolt.
The instant he leaped out, his supernatural power manifested—heaven and earth became his furnace!
An invisible, intensely hot force field, distorting the air, suddenly enveloped the weapon case in the corner of the room, which was marked with the World Tree! The case, along with the pebbles inside, was instantly melted into a crimson fluid, and then, under orders, reshaped, condensed, and quenched in the next moment!
As Zhou Yi's body leaped completely out of the window and began to fall, a long sword, slender in shape, with sharp lines, a matte, dark metallic sheen, and a blade that gleamed with a faint, cold light, had already been forged.
"Come!"
Zhou Yi, head down and feet up, plunges into darkness, and amidst the howling wind, he waves his hand in mid-air!
The sword transformed into a streak of black light and leaped into his outstretched right palm.
The next moment, Zhou Yi's magical power surged! A golden light flashed across his body, and the falling snowflakes around him seemed to encounter some kind of spatial barrier, disappearing without a trace.
His descent suddenly changed, transforming from free fall into a more aerodynamic, sharper angle, and his speed increased dramatically! Like a falling meteor, or a sharp sword cleaving through the wind and snow, he tore through layers of fog and biting cold wind, hurtling towards the red dot of light below that was being swallowed by darkness!
We plummeted rapidly, with the howling wind like ghosts wailing in our ears.
A feeling of weightlessness gripped her heart, and icy air rushed into her mouth and nose, pressing against her lungs. Chen Motong's consciousness swirled amidst the excruciating pain, the cold, and the dizziness of her rapid descent. Strangely, the anticipated fear didn't overwhelm her; instead, she felt an almost ethereal calm, along with a trace of resentment at not having killed Pedro with her own hands.
The last thing she saw was a crescent moon hidden behind dark clouds, a black sea churning and roaring in the mist, and rugged mountain ranges resembling the sharp teeth of a monster.
Is that all...? Well, that's fine.
Just as she was about to close her eyes and prepare for the final impact, a discordant sight above her caught her unfocused gaze.
A black dot.
A black dot that is growing larger and larger at an incredible speed.
What is that? A bird? A heavy object that was thrown down?
No…it was too fast! And it was coming straight at her!
The biting air made it almost impossible for her to open her eyes, but she stubbornly squinted, trying to make out what was happening. The distance closed in the blink of an eye, and the outline of the black dot quickly became clear—it was a person! A figure, headfirst, hurtling towards her at an even faster speed than she was!
Dark clothes, their lines clung to his body in the wind, and the profile of his silent face even in the dim light...
The Book of Changes?!
A wave of overwhelming shock instantly dispelled the numbness. How could he be here? Why did he jump down too? Could it be... for her?
But why?! What reason did she have for him to jump down so recklessly?!
Don't spout nonsense about wanting to die for someone you like! She knows better than anyone that while many people at school may secretly like her, he is definitely not among them!
"You—!" She instinctively wanted to shout, to ask, to yell at him if he was crazy. But as soon as she opened her mouth, a violent gust of cold wind slammed in like a solid fist, filling her mouth and rushing down her throat, choking her until she was speechless. She could only stare wide-eyed in vain as that familiar yet now utterly unfamiliar face rapidly magnified in her vision.
The two rapidly approached each other in the dark void. Their relative speed was extremely fast, but Zhou Yi's control was terrifyingly precise. Just when Chen Motong thought he was about to be hit, his falling speed was subtly adjusted, finally reaching a terrifying balance—the two were now falling almost parallel, head down, face to face, even closer than when they ate braised pork knuckle together in the school cafeteria.
The wind and snow swirled wildly between the two. Zhou Yi's black hair was whipped back straight by the strong wind, revealing his smooth forehead and his eyes, which were now astonishingly bright. There was no panic, no fear in them, only calm, and a hint of... a faint light that Chen Motong couldn't decipher, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief?
He looked at her, his gaze sweeping over her pale cheeks and wide, astonished eyes.
Before Chen Motong could react to their extremely close, upside-down eye contact, Zhou Yi's left hand had already reached out, cutting through the swirling snow, and wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly in his arms!
Almost simultaneously, the muscles in his right arm bulged, he gripped the black longsword tightly, and poured all his strength and the kinetic energy of his fall into the tip of the sword, stabbing it fiercely towards the solid cliff face that was faintly visible in the mist beside him!
Sizzle—Crack—! !!!
An indescribable, ear-piercing metallic scraping sound suddenly erupted! The black sword's blade clashed violently with the ancient rock, bursting forth with a continuous stream of dazzling orange-red sparks! These sparks weren't just a few, but rather a cascade of them, stretching and extending wildly, resembling a tragically beautiful yet violent river of fire against the dark cliff backdrop!
The terrifying recoil surged through the sword and his arm, violently impacting Zhou Yi's body. But he remained as steady as a rock, his arm around Chen Motong held firmly. Chen Motong felt an immense force slam her against Zhou Yi's solid chest, her downward momentum abruptly halting. The world seemed to spin, her internal organs felt compressed and displaced, and all she could hear was the piercing sound of the sword scraping against stone.
The fall did not stop, but its speed decreased sharply at a rate visible to the naked eye.
With one hand tightly holding Chen Motong, Zhou Yi gripped the black sword that was deeply carved into the rock wall, carving deep furrows and sparking everywhere. Amidst the roaring wind and snow and the rolling thick fog, they slid down the nearly vertical cliff hundreds of feet high.
As he descended to a certain point, the thick fog suddenly dissipated. It was as if some invisible boundary had been drawn, and Chen Motong entered a world illuminated by the cool moonlight.
A crack appeared in the thick, leaden-gray clouds, and a nearly full moon hung between the sea and sky, pouring down its silvery, watery light. The moonlight shone unhindered onto the surging, dark blue sea, breaking into millions of shimmering, dancing pieces of silver, flickering and undulating with the rise and fall of the waves.
Chen Motong was captivated by the sight. She leaned quietly against Zhou Yi's chest, feeling like the leading lady in a Hollywood popcorn blockbuster.
The pounding of her heart, the hissing of her sword against the rock face, and the furious roar of the sea beneath her feet filled her entire world.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
Oh my god, they haven't even signed the contract yet.