Chapter 54: Customs

"Do you all choose your partners with such a lack of consideration?"

Si's gaze lifted slightly, her amber eyes meeting Salser's. "Our customs are not about finding a partner, Salser. I will choose a suitable male and perform the T'lan Imass ritual to bear the next Bonecaster of our clan—this will also be my only child. This child will neither follow the father nor the mother, but will participate in the next war as a member of the clan."

"Your customs are indeed challenging to acclimate to," Salser inquired of her, "but why limit yourselves to a single child? Is this, too, a tradition of the Rhivi people?"

"It can be considered a custom, or not, Salser," Si said. "In the era before my birth, a child was born from the T'lan Imass' Warren Tellann and could gather various form of magics. Its soul drifted and lost in our Warren, its body dreadful, and this must undergo changes." She paused for a moment, lifting the cloak wrapped around her.

Beneath the animal skin bustier lay her smooth, light brown belly, no different from a young girl's, her supple waist, and her legs tightly curved beneath the animal skin skirt. Si paused once more and said, "The Bonecaster Isa Onas once performed a ritual for my mother. During that time, the ancient gods also emerged from the sacred stone spilled with blood, fulfilling their needs and answering their questions. According to prophecy, that soul will pass through the wombs of the Rhivi mothers to their descendants, and in the end, it will encounter a child devoid of soul, thereby gaining new life."

"...Do you share this tale with everyone you meet?"

The girl with brown skin smiled: "No, because I see a little hope in your soul." Si pointed to her bare belly and said, "Now, try placing your palm on it."

Salser choked on his red wine. "Bonecaster," he said hoarsely, "my customs might be different from yours."

"This is just a ritual, not an invitation for you to lust after my body now, Salser."

"Can you not use such vulgar words?"

"You should face your desires openly, Salser," Si's tender fingers slid into the single ponytail hanging at her waist, her hair surprisingly smooth, "I hear lust from the depths of your soul, you're just forcing yourself and suppressing it with customs—"

"Are you making this up? Did you assume I was ignorant of the Warren's ways?"

"You're right," she nodded, "if I want to, I sometimes do this."

"..."

Silence. Salser saw no signs of blushing on her face.

"Then, extend your hand, Salser." Si's gaze was calm, her cheeks bearing an odd maturity, especially her cold and indifferent eyes.

Salser shrugged. Since she didn't feel embarrassed, he had no reason to be either.

He calmly extended his right hand, pressing his palm against the girl's soft belly. The touch was subtly comfortable, with a bit of elasticity and tension, and slightly cool. The smooth abdomen rose and fell gently with Si's breath under his hand.

After a moment, a new tattoo appeared on the light brown smooth belly, somewhat abstract, resembling a white fox.

"Is this what you were referring to earlier?"

Salser instinctively opened his spirit vision, but he couldn't see clearly, only a vague outline. He wasn't quite sure what it meant.

"The origin of spirit vision also comes from a Bonecaster," Si said solemnly, watching Salser withdraw his hand, while the white fox tattoo disappearing. She closed her cloak, "We taught it to the mages of the Free Cities Alliance," she said.

"Do you harbor an interest in teaching?" Salser suddenly asked her.

"If there's an opportunity, I can teach you some knowledge of soul magic," Si quickly understood his meaning and told him, "but the premise is that you're still alive. Our Logros clan's alliance with the Holy Cross Church does not include unconditional protection of your life, this time is the same."

"Then I shall live with anticipation." Salser shrugged.

"Anticipating what?"

"Ah, what else can I anticipate? Anticipating embracing your body in the future?"

"That's just a possibility that may come." Si lifted her staff and tapped Salser's head, "Also, don't use such blunt speech when speaking to a lady."

"You certainly have many demands."

"One more thing, you should wear down the calluses on your hands, their touch makes my belly itch." Si's voice remained steady, her expressionless gaze fixed on him, "If you touch the Inquisitor woman's body like this in the future, these calluses might make her feel repulsed, understand?"

Salser choked on his water.

...

The moon gradually turned a blood red.

It was an exceptionally stifling night. From time to time, whirlwinds would emerge, agitating the swirling gray mist and causing the treetops to emit sharp, laughter-like cries akin to a baby's wail. The nocturnal monsters danced languidly, treading upon the wriggling purple-black pathways, nearly blending with the mist, rendering it difficult to discern what lay within. Then the wind ceased, and an even deeper silence prevailed, with only the slick footsteps on the ground remaining, as if travelers were trudging through a filthy swamp.

Occasionally, green lightning would tear through the night sky. At such moments, from a distance of ten meters, the gray mist and darkness that were were hard to see through would suddenly unveil the silhouettes of houses with twisted shapes, each chimney belching out clusters of deformed black smoke, all souls tormented to the point of losing everything within this city. In a corner of the street, a doll strikingly similar to one from a dream—tall and slender—but with a jaw that opened and closed mechanically, despite her astonishing beauty, her eyes squirmed with countless tiny and transparent soft-bodied creatures. She held a fishing rod and perched atop a tree made of dead fingers, fishing. Her bait was a limbless human, still conscious, still capable of screaming, and the fish were monsters gathered beneath the tree, mechanically leaping to bite at the bait.

I wonder what Prinn would think if he saw this scene.

Then, the twisted road began to sink, turning into a blackened river, with the soft-edged branches of the trees on both banks truly morphing into overlapping pale human limbs, stirring the mist as they waved unconsciously.

The blackened river stretched far into the distance, with grotesque monsters solemnly pulling the tow, rowing on small boats crafted from elongated deformed limbs, with long ropes slapping the water. Then, all of this instantly vanished into the dark mist with a flash of lightning, as if it were a dream. Only the faint wailing, the warm mist, the withered stench, and the pink light of the street lamps melting into the mist remained scattered throughout.

"I suddenly have the urge to return to my bedroom for another slumber," Salser remarked to Jeanne, standing at the door.

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