The figure crouching over the pile of bodies - whether ghost or human - kept chewing relentlessly, making my scalp prickle. I hissed twice, trying to alert Philip to the horror before us.
Without turning back, Philip said, "Never mind it, keep moving!"
I wasn't the only one who saw it. We all did. But since Philip didn't tell us to stop, we didn't dare pause, merely glancing at the "thing" before squeezing closer behind Philip in fear.
I couldn't bear to look longer - the sight was too terrifying. The corpses might as well have been his personal buffet, as he gnawed through one after another.
As I turned to leave, the "thing" suddenly looked up at me. His hair-covered head revealed a face so covered in sores and wounds I couldn't tell if it was male or female. His mouth dripped with blood that stained every tooth and his entire jaw, with a disgusting piece of flesh still clinging to his lips.
"Heh heh heh heh..." He smiled at me - a grin that nearly made me bolt right then and there.
The creature didn't follow, continuing his feast as we all quickened our pace.
"Philip, was that back there a person or a ghost?" I asked.
Still not looking back, Philip answered while hurrying forward: "Ghosts don't eat dead people. What do you think?"
Ghosts don't eat corpses... so that meant it had been human? But why would a person...
"Not all who go mad make it safely down the mountain," Philip added.
Right. Just because many who descend go crazy doesn't mean all who go crazy manage to descend. How pitiful - if he were ever cured and remembered this episode, he'd surely kill himself!
Though conflicted, we couldn't afford to dwell on it. Anyone who came up here had already gambled with their life. Whatever the outcome, they'd made their choice.
We pressed on. The bodies grew fewer as we climbed. Philip explained we were nearing the mountainside - past that point, the miasma weakened, resulting in fewer deaths.
"Are there no demons or ghosts along the way? Were they all killed by the miasma?" I wondered. The poison in Mount Zhongnan's miasma was exceptionally potent. Even gas masks might prove useless. To ascend safely, one needed alternatives - like Philip's method of waiting for the annual miasma thinning to make the climb.
"Don't lower your guard," Philip warned. "The area below and above the mountainside marks a watershed. Reaching the top won't be that easy."
This hellhole - even without Philip's warning, we wouldn't dare relax. The corpses surrounding us made it clear this was essentially a slaughterhouse.
After walking further, when we were nearly at the mountainside, the little fox suddenly exclaimed, "Master, look at these corpses! Why are their mouths all split open?"
Following her warning, I quickly examined the bodies. Indeed, every corpse's mouth appeared to have been sliced open by a knife - gashes several centimeters long stretching all the way to their earlobes. The sight was shocking, and most bizarrely, there was no blood or visible wounds. It was as if their mouths had naturally grown that way.
If only one or two looked like this, it might be explainable. But all eight corpses along the path bore identical markings - impossible for all eight to be born with such deformities simultaneously, and only affecting their mouths up to their ears?
This time Philip finally stopped. Unlike before when he pressed forward regardless, he crouched down to examine a body.
"Philip, what are you doing? Don't wait until you're at the toilet door to shit your pants! We're just steps away from the mountainside - why stop to examine corpses now?" Stein objected, believing we should hurry. Reaching the mountainside would at least solve our miasma concerns.
Philip shook his head while inspecting the body. "Can't proceed. Something powerful is here."
His words frightened Stein, who immediately scanned our dark surroundings, fearing ghosts might emerge. But only corpses and our group occupied the hillside.
"Judging by their clothes and equipment, these eight belonged to two different groups," Philip explained. "Some were Corpse-Carriers, others appeared to be fighters - all in excellent physical condition."
To demonstrate, he tore open several corpses' shoulder garments. Corpse-Carriers, he explained, transport evil corpses to graves by carrying them piggyback-style, with the corpses' hands resting on their shoulders.
Evil corpses emanate yin energy, which leaves distinct purple-black bruise-like marks where their hands contact the carriers' shoulders.
Philip was right - certain corpses bore these exact purple-black shoulder patches, confirming them as Corpse-Carriers.
Corpse-Carriers are also called Erebus-profiteers. That four died here mysteriously suggested serious trouble.
The other four corpses, covered in scars and wounds, were identified by Philip as fighters - all evidently in peak physical condition and likely highly skilled combatants.
None of the eight corpses bore any fatal wounds except for those grotesquely gaping mouths.
Antonio stroked his chin, speculating, "Could these two groups have killed each other and died together here?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Stein snapped without real anger. "Have you ever seen rival gangs kill each other by tearing mouths open?"
Philip stood up, scanning our surroundings worriedly. "The yin energy here is overwhelming. Their deaths weren't natural - likely killed by ghosts."
"Ghosts? Oh shit!" Stein instinctively jumped and grabbed my arm, but I shook him off.
"Stop being such a coward. With Philip here, we've got nothing to fear from ghosts." I suddenly clutched my stomach. "But let's not talk now - nature calls urgently."
I cursed my terrible timing. Of all places and moments - but when nature calls, you answer.
"Make it quick. This place is dangerous. Stay alert and shout if anything happens." Philip drew his peachwood sword and planted it firmly in the ground. His sharp gaze swept the area as if no demon could escape his notice - his aura alone could suppress most vengeful spirits.
"Alright, wait for me." I rushed off, my stomach gurgling violently. Bad food? Or had someone poisoned me? My first suspect was Living Dead Francesc, but no time for that now - relief came first.
With Jeane present, I had to find more privacy. I circled behind some thick bushes and - dignity be damned - dropped my pants in desperate release. The relief was immediate.
Then I noticed them - two more corpses in the bushes, their lifeless faces pointed directly at my exposed backside. Their eyes bulged wider than saucers, bloodshot and mouths agape as if they'd witnessed something horrifying before death.
The awkwardness intensified - their frozen stares seemed fixated on my bare rear. Doing my business beside corpses felt disrespectful, so I decided to close their eyes. Maybe then we'd both rest easier.
"Forgive me, elders," I muttered. "Didn't see you there. No offense meant." I reached to shut their eyelids.
The cold, stiff skin made my scalp prickle - handling corpses is never pleasant - but someone had to do it.
To my relief, nothing supernatural occurred. Both sets of eyes stayed closed. I exhaled, my tension easing slightly.
I examined these two - unlike the eight with split mouths, theirs appeared normal. Without flipping them over, I couldn't determine cause of death. Perhaps sheer terror - those bulging eyes looked ready to burst from their sockets.
About a minute into my business, just as my stomach settled, new horror struck - those closed eyes snapped open again, now even more bloodshot than before. Terrifying.