Chapter 569 — A Dark Past
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 4 of 4
Afterward came the scenes of that infant — after devouring countless dead souls and eating two demon gods, grown unbelievably large — committing evil everywhere, his ferocity fully bared, smashing level after level of the underworld, putting to flight the demon gods who hunted his mother and his people, leaving them routed and fleeing for their lives. Yet this infant seemed born with an incomparably thick evil intent: whether they were the ones hunting his mother and him, or other ghosts dwelling in the Dark Capital, whoever he met he killed and devoured.
On the second page, in the mother's face the old ghost officer saw panic and dread as well; she was somewhat afraid of her own son, afraid of his demon nature. The old ghost officer turned to the next page: still the same infant slaughtering everywhere, treading a huge demon dragon beneath his feet and gutting it, three eyes showing a fierce light.
Yet at the end of the picture, once the infant had eaten his fill, he became a tiny baby, opening both arms toward his mother, begging to be held. The old ghost officer turned page after page. The things recorded later in the book were even harder to look upon: this infant smashed wave after wave of the demon gods who hunted them, then smashed the gods and demons sent to punish them, slaughtering everywhere, until the great powers hidden in the Dark Capital were alarmed. The great powers made war on the infant; the fighting shook heaven and earth.
Toward the end of the book, the infant, by his countless evils and ingrained ferocity, had become an overlord of the Dark Capital.
One day he came to the edge of the Dark Capital and spied on the world of the living with huge, demonic crimson eyes, showing intense excitement. At the other end of the picture, the great powers of the Dark Capital were telling something to the great Tubo, and that mother too was beseeching Tubo. The three-eyed Tubo took a fragment of jade from his own horn and refined it into a jade pendant; the mother, tears in her eyes, left her imprint upon the pendant, called her son, and hung it around his neck.
The infant's demon nature was suppressed, and his divine nature with it; his body returned to its usual size and he became the most ordinary of babies, a tiny sprout, lying in swaddling clothes, babbling, waving hands and feet, earnestly sucking his own toes. The mother picked him up, kissed him several times, and with unwillingness placed him in a basket; a woman lifted the basket and rode a paper boat away into the distance.
Behind, ghost kings great and small, great ghosts, small ghosts, and half-visible demon gods beat gongs and drums in fond farewell. The old ghost officer turned to the last page. The picture showed Shen Mu in the ill-omened land, long hair over his shoulders, wielding a sword and working his arts, opening the Heaven-Bearing Gate to summon the dead of the netherworld.
At that moment, the jade pendant at his neck floated up. "Eighteen years. " The old ghost officer closed the scroll, hid it away, and let out a long breath: "This boy — there is no telling at all from his present appearance.
I hope he will not awaken his demon nature and be controlled by it again. .
. Fortunately Tubo sealed him and exiled him to the world of the living.
Otherwise who knows what the Dark Capital would have been reduced to? Perhaps if he had stayed in the Dark Capital he would never have lived to eighteen; he would long since have been eaten by Tubo for his many evils.
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