Moved By Freedom

Chapter 1. His name is Feng Huangyu

Pressure. A palpable, growing... Pressure that you can no longer ignore. It's like they're trying to squeeze your soul out of your body.

Or, on the contrary, to drive him into it?

It's time to open your eyes.

- Hey, did you hear creepy sounds coming from the mountain yesterday?

At night, a phenomenon that had never been seen before by the residents of the village of Chuhuaban[1] occurred: Mount Gaiseduhu[2], which was only four li away from them[3], emitted a terrible howl for a good half of the night and shone with a demonic light, as if the earth itself had split open on it, liberating the depths of hell and its most terrible inhabitants. It was as if a battle of spellcasters was taking place there, not to the death. The witnesses had absolutely no other explanation; everyone watched the mountain and knew that its light and its cry were an obvious sign. But whether he was kind or not, they couldn't say yet. But they were already seriously alarmed.

1 - verb. First petal.

2 - adverb Devil's lake.

3 - a couple of kilometers. One is equal to 500 meters.

From early morning, before the sun had time to rise from behind the forest, the market street was teeming with conversations as much as it was fragrant with fruits and spices, and the ground exuded the cold coming from the mountain. Tall men, small children, young boys and girls, old men and old women - everyone gathered here, from young to old. Some were just selling food and all sorts of trinkets, others were walking around and choosing what to take. And some only pretended to sell, but in reality they sharpened wood. Among the usual shouts and cries of children, particularly loud discussions could be discerned. Several owners of food stalls gathered near one and animatedly shared news under its canopy:

- Yeah, it was thundering all night, we barely put our daughter to sleep, they closed the doors and windows tightly, but it was still audible. — The skinny tall man scratched his beard.

- Oh, I kept wanting to ask, how is it with you? Not sick already? - asked the man who was a head shorter than him and much plumper.

— I got better the other day. But because of this, the howl almost became a stutterer. Damn him!

"Yesterday, out of fear, my wife plastered the inside of my entire house with talismans. I tell her, it was a useless waste of money, but she doesn't care at all: for just such a case, she says, I took it! There's nothing left to do at all..." the third man grumbled, twirling a small basket in his hands.

"But there really seemed to be some devilry going on there." I saw something shining there. — The youngest of the men looked at the mountain. There was a slight fear in his gaze.

- Yes, I suppose the spellcasters fought with some evil spirits! Or with each other, this has happened to them too, ha ha! But it's strange, usually they at least look into the village the day before or fly through it. And then somehow, apparently, they walked past.

This man, without any doubt on the part of his acquaintances, was right: whenever the spellcasters arrived to check the mountain, and there were only a few of them, you could count them on your fingers, they would definitely visit the villagers. They found out if they had problems with the undead, although they were never found here in the first place, sometimes even, either out of gratitude for the conversations, or out of politeness, they shopped at the market, acquiring some kind of rubbish that no one else would take, which the locals are very appreciated, and therefore adored visitors.

- Here! What am I talking about! This is strange.

- Well...

The men argued very lively about what happened that night on the mountain. Perhaps even too lively, because already half of the street was involuntarily warming their ears, and someone was already openly looking at them. The chatter attracted considerable attention, and the culprits noticed it.