Chapter 23: Maren’s Fate.
The Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool spanned no more than twenty meters in diameter.
It resembled a massive cauldron simmering rotten flesh and blood.
Fetid blood bubbles rose from the viscous slurry, bursting one after another, releasing acrid smoke that permeated the surroundings.
This was the infamous cursed land in the Black Domain.
The corruption aura, dense enough to be almost tangible, made it difficult even for high-tier Lantern Bearers to linger long.
For ordinary people, it was a fatal forbidden zone.
However, trialists induced into the dream by Drunken Soul Flower powder had to immerse themselves in the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool, enduring the final and most perilous test.
It was unimaginable how the original Lantern Bearer, Atos, had satisfied these stringent, nearly breakdown-inducing trial conditions one by one through countless coincidences, ultimately earning Sura’s favor.
Most who passed the first three steps of the Lantern Bearer trial often failed at this last one, paying even more tragic prices—either fully corrupted into invalids, or rotting away in eternal slumber.
The most terrifying was transforming into mindless, slaughter-only newborn demons.
Maren’s arms were already blood-drenched and torn open.
Even Carey had personally gouged out a horrific eyeball that mutated on the girl’s arm during the journey.
If the final trial wasn’t conducted soon, the consequences would far exceed merely losing eligibility for becoming a Lantern Bearer—unthinkable.
Under Linnea’s calm instructions, Lis and Carey lifted Maren, slowly immersing her into the shallowest edge of the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool.
Finally, Linnea stepped forward herself, pried open Maren’s clenched teeth, and poured in a mouthful of milky-white Saintess Grass juice.
Over centuries, the core process of the Lantern Bearer trial ritual remained unchanged, but details had been constantly adjusted.
The Saintess Grass juice might lower the probability of becoming a Lantern Bearer, yet it significantly reduced the chance of the worst outcomes.
Everything prepared, Carey and the others retreated hundreds of meters away, holding their breath and watching the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool intently.
The mercenary captain Rich, who had been majestic an hour ago, now acted like an uninvolved outsider, pacing and resting alone even farther away.
“Mama… Papa…”
Time passed, and Maren’s pained dream murmurs gradually weakened until they vanished.
But her face grew strangely redder, like a stream shrimp boiled through in hot water.
The filthy, foul mud of the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool churned more violently.
Strands of black mist rose from around Maren, growing thicker, eventually forming a curtain-like black fog wall that enveloped her figure, blocking external scrutiny.
This was the hallmark phenomenon of a new Lantern Bearer’s birth.
Under the infiltration of mysterious Black Domain curses, the abyss of power deep in Maren’s soul was forming, with nascent Black Domain power slowly circulating, silently reshaping the girl’s body and mind.
This was a mysterious, great, yet cruel process—gaining Sura’s favor, remaking life, seizing the power of darkness, and also bearing darkness’s curses.
“She succeeded… What a dense fog wall. Could it be a rare profession? What pious deed did Iceberry Village do for Maren to attract Sura’s attention? Honestly, I’m jealous.”
The dense curses nurtured deep in the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool shook Linnea’s abyss of power from hundreds of meters away.
Rich and Einar, patrolling alertly even farther out, were also startled by the anomaly, turning back to gaze.
Lis’s body trembled slightly.
She lowered her head, a flash of envy and bitterness deep in her eyes.
In childhood, she too had dreamed of becoming a Lantern Bearer.
But the sudden corruption disease at age ten not only crushed that dream but utterly changed her life.
After an unknown time, the dense fog wall began to slowly dissipate.
The Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool returned to its dead, filthy original state.
Lis ran over, lifted the unconscious Maren from the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool, and brought her back to the tent.
She carefully stripped off Maren’s clothes stained with foul blood-red mud, washed her entire body with clean water, and finally wrapped the girl tightly in a dry, warm cloak.
“Carey, Maren will need some time to wake. Go on, thank Sura’s favor and bestow blessings upon your companion.” Linnea walked behind the somewhat dazed Carey, gently patting his arm.
“Ah… She succeeded?”
Carey snapped back to reality.
Only now did he truly realize that Maren had completed the Lantern Bearer trial, fulfilling the long-cherished wish of Mokus Village Chief’s family.
As he spoke, Carey subconsciously scanned the surroundings again.
Because just minutes ago, that heart-palpitating sensation had returned, even clearer, flickering like a ghost, now near, now far.
“Carey, do you have something on your mind?” Linnea’s hand touched the boy’s cheek, revealing a gentle smile.
“You’re the black-haired child of divine favor; I think you should have more confidence than others.”
“No, Miss Linnea, I’m not nervous.” Carey hesitated, then pointed in a certain direction, his eyes holding a trace of confusion.
“There… It seems like something is always watching me…”
Linnea was slightly taken aback.
She turned her head, staring in the direction Carey pointed for a dozen seconds, then chuckled helplessly.
“The area near the Corrupt Blood Marsh Pool has the most vicious Black Domain curses; experiencing some illusions is normal. You’re still just an ordinary person; Renata should have taught you how to adjust your emotions and shield against these interferences.”
Is it really just an illusion… Carey took a deep breath, suppressing the unease in his heart, and nodded lightly.
“Alright, make the most of the time; it’s your turn. I’ll go discuss the return route with Rich.” Linnea smiled, her gaze sweeping over the small clay jar of Drunken Soul Flower buds at Carey’s waist, then turned and walked toward the distant Rich.
Inside the tent, Maren remained in deep sleep, her breathing steady, body temperature and complexion returned to normal, the once rampant corruption marks on her exposed skin vanished without a trace.
Carey squatted beside Maren, carefully slipping his hand under the cloak to gently draw out her cold left hand.
The girl’s five fingers were clenched tight, as if her palm held the world’s most precious treasure.
Only when Maren truly awoke and opened her palm would it be known what Lantern Bearer profession she had obtained.
“Maren, you succeeded… Now, it’s my turn.”
Carey removed his cloak, shed all his gear, and placed the small clay jar full of Drunken Soul Flower buds on the ground, opening it.
He knelt on one knee, drew his short sword, held it inverted with the hilt against his forehead, and softly recited the chapter of fate’s prayer.
‘Eternal Slumber’s Holy Lord Sura, guide of destinies.
Chew the prophetic berries, spit forth the newborn dawn.
Drooping tresses weave nooses, strangling all absurd illusions, leaving vitality for truth.
Ring your holy bell, urge the years to grow backward, etch true marks in time’s ashes.
May life’s kernel soon pierce the darkness. May unspoken love become dream-words of a new world.
If I am fated to die, preserve for me a tombstone beneath the holy seat, that I may continue hearing fate’s song.’
A few minutes later, when Lis entered the tent again, Carey had already sunk into the dream— the boy’s lips curved in a serene, blissful smile, as if experiencing an utterly peaceful and wonderful dream.