Ch.826Sorcery

It was a corpse.

It could only be a corpse. Humans weren’t resilient enough to remain breathing in such a state.

However.

“Grrrr…”

At the low moaning sound coming from that thing… no, those things, Imara unconsciously covered her mouth and stepped back.

Her hands and feet grew cold as if submerged in ice water, and she felt something inside her face draining down to her chest.

“Ugh?!”

Imara bent slightly and let out a suppressed groan as nausea welled up from deep within her stomach.

‘What is this…!’

It was a horrific sight. Even for her, a member of the Aishan-Gioro bloodline who had seen countless human corpses, it was almost unbearable.

“Grrrrrr…”

“Guh…grrrk…”

“Guuuuu…”

Sounds like strangled beasts. These things, with their skin completely flayed and mouths sewn shut, making them unrecognizable, sat in a circle in the middle of the underground dungeon, emitting feeble moans.

Rotten fluid leaked like bloody tears from eye sockets where purple gems had been embedded instead of eyeballs. Their limbs, wrapped in something rope-like, were as thin as withered tree branches.

Their ears and noses had been cut off, and green moss and pale mushrooms grew from the gaping holes. It was a wretched and revolting sight.

If that had been all, Imara wouldn’t have immediately judged them as corpses. She might have thought they were humans being tortured to death.

But anyone who saw what was inside their abdomens, splayed open like animals on a dissection table, would find it impossible to believe these were living beings.

None of the organs that should have been inside a human body remained in their abdomens.

Instead, their bellies were filled with something long and writhing.

– Tsssss.

Whatever was replacing their intestines opened its mouth and let out a small cry.

A forked tongue licked the air, and a pair of sharp, fang-like teeth tore off and swallowed a piece of flesh from the corpse-like thing.

Snakes.

In their lower abdomens, instead of intestines, there were coiled snakes writhing and feeding on their hosts.

So where had their original organs gone?

There was no need to look for them. The rope-like things binding all the half-corpses together in the dungeon emitted a disgusting stench, revealing their true nature.

Living corpses, bound by their own intestines, serving as nests for snakes.

Beneath the circle of half-corpses were strange characters and diagrams that smelled of blood, surrounded by scattered animal bones, crow feathers, tree roots, and gems.

And in the center.

On a massive altar shaped like a giant hand with ten fingers spread toward the ceiling, made from hundreds of pairs of human hands sewn together.

– Thump! Thump!

Something wrapped in a crimson amniotic sac pulsated like a giant’s heart. Just looking at it raised goosebumps all over her body.

‘Is this… could it be sorcery? Why would such things be in mother’s private chambers…?!’

Imara’s pupils trembled with shock.

A horrific, blasphemous, and surreal sight. Even to her, who knew nothing of sorcery, it was something that could only be described as dark magic.

Not the magic of westerners that healed people or conjured fire and ice, but something more disgusting, dark, and sinister—literal black magic.

‘Mother was… a sorcerer!?’

Imara trembled as if the ground beneath her feet was crumbling away. It was unbelievable. Yet the evidence was right before her eyes.

She finally understood why her mother Meiharin had been so busy and why she had been so confident in defeating Targiyan.

And why certain clan chiefs who supported her mother and Sahakal obeyed them like slaves.

Sorcerer. An evil that desecrates both the living and the dead, said to bring destruction to everything on the steppes. A public enemy of the steppes who should be hunted down along with their offspring to end their lineage.

That was the true identity of her mother, Meiharin.

—-

After discovering the secret Meiharin had been hiding, Imara fled the palace immediately.

The fact that Imara had entered the underground dungeon by falsely claiming she had Meiharin’s permission would soon reach Meiharin herself.

In Imara’s mind, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen to her once Meiharin, who had hidden her true identity even from her own daughter, found out about this.

‘I’ll die. No, I might have my soul stolen and become a slave. Or even if not, if others find out, eventually…!’

Any faith in her mother had long been erased by the horrific scene in the dungeon. Fear born of distrust and ignorance pushed her forward like an arrow in her back.

That was why Imara had left Ordos and embarked on a desperate escape.

—-

Imara’s escape from the palace, her first time ever leaving it, was cut short before three days had passed.

Not by Meiharin’s pursuers as she had feared, but by Targiyan’s scouts who captured the unidentified rider they discovered during patrol.

The scouts, who had served in the Red Banner Army for many years, recognized the prisoner’s identity immediately and brought the struggling Imara, tightly bound, to their lord, Targiyan.

When informed that Meiharin’s precious daughter, who should have been safely in Ordos, had been captured riding across the steppes without any guards, Targiyan incredulously asked if they were joking…

“…So it’s true. Huh. Unbelievable.”

But when Imara was dragged before him, he could only laugh dryly and commend his subordinates.

“What on earth possessed you to leave the palace and get yourself captured? I might have expected such foolishness from Amin, but never thought you, Imara, would be so unaware of the current situation.”

His tone was friendly, as if making light conversation with a sister he hadn’t seen in a long time, but his eyes were filled with killing intent, and his lips curled with cold contempt.

His face was like that of a wild dog looking down at trapped prey.

“Mmph! Mmmmph!”

Bound with ropes, Imara gnawed at her gag and shouted incomprehensible words. Sweat mixed with dirt streamed down her contorted face.

Targiyan smirked at the sight, then gestured to a subordinate, pointing at Imara’s face.

“Remove her gag. I want to hear what she has to say.”

“Yes!”

The Red Banner warrior standing behind Imara with a knife at her back bent down and removed the gag binding her mouth.

“Hah…!”

With the gag removed, Imara lowered her head and gasped for breath, then suddenly raised her face to stare directly at Targiyan and spoke.

“I regret meeting again under these circumstances, Brother Targiyan. Since you’ve removed my gag, could you also untie these ropes? My arms are going numb.”

Her tone was sharp, mixed with displeasure, hostility, and disappointment.

“Address me as Khan Targiyan. Since that snake Sahakal and the witch Meiharin occupied Ordos, the blood ties between us have long been severed.”

“Well. If your reason for treating me as an enemy is because of my mother and Sahakal, I’d like to tell you that’s unnecessary. I escaped from Ordos because I didn’t want to be associated with them.”

Imara’s answer seemed to intrigue Targiyan. Doubt mixed into his gaze.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you’ve betrayed your mother?”

“Well, yes. I don’t mind telling you why, but first I’d like you to dismiss your men. This isn’t something I should discuss in front of others.”

“Hmm…”

Stroking his chin in thought, Targiyan soon made his decision and dismissed all his subordinates, then questioned Imara about why she had left the palace.

“Now, let’s hear what you have to say. I’ve dismissed my men as you wished.”

“…Before that, I’d like you to swear you won’t harm me. You look like you might kill me after hearing my story, and I’m too scared to speak.”

Imara sighed dramatically and shrugged her shoulders.

Despite being captured as a prisoner by someone who was practically her enemy, she appeared remarkably composed and calm.

Though the cold sweat soaking her back clearly revealed that all this attitude was nothing but desperate acting.

“Ha, your insolent manner hasn’t changed. Very well. For old times’ sake, if your answer satisfies me, I’ll guarantee your safety.”

Targiyan nodded, clearly aware of Imara’s bluff.

“However, if you’re planning to waste my time with worthless nonsense—”

“It’s information that could turn all the neutral tribes against Sahakal. Well? Is that satisfying enough?”

“—Hmm. Indeed, that sounds interesting…”

Targiyan nodded.

“Fine. I swear as a warrior that I will not harm you. Now tell me. Everything you know.”

“Everything isn’t really that long a story—”

Imara explained to Targiyan everything she had witnessed in the palace’s secret chamber, without omitting a single detail.

The circumstances suggesting that Meiharin was preparing some kind of evil ritual in the underground dungeon of the palace, and that Sahakal knew about it but was turning a blind eye.

“Meiharin was a sorcerer…? And practicing black magic? Now that’s an interesting story. I must reward the warriors who captured you handsomely.”

Targiyan smiled fiercely.

He now had the decisive justification to brand his political opponent as a public enemy of the steppes.