Chapter 78: Humanity is Born in an Instant, While Animal Nature Comes from Eternity.

Chapter 78: Humanity is but a fleeting moment, while savagery is ancient as time.

If the renowned culinary critic of the mystical realm—Mr. Yi Fengchu—were invited to evaluate, His critique would be razor-sharp:

The Moth God is crispy, with a roasted flavor. A single bite causes the moth wings to crackle and split, not unlike barbecue-flavored potato chips.

As for the Father of Curses, the texture is chewy with a hint of sweetness. The curse runes forming the black tendrils unravel one by one in the mouth, bursting with a popping sensation, like brown sugar boba-flavored gummy strips.

Of course, the Father of Curses hasn't quite expired yet. Clutching at the edge of existence, He occasionally musters a final effort, conjuring a few powerful curses that could be considered the pinnacle of His abilities.

These curses spread across the Serpent’s body, blackening patches of its silver-scaled hide like ink drops on white paper—not only visually jarring but also faintly spreading outward.

But during this time, Yi Fengchu had repeatedly tested His abilities, deepening His understanding and mastery over the domains of fate and time.

His proficiency growing, He swiftly purged the spreading curses from His body in moments.

The Father of Curses only possessed an incomplete "curse," while Yi Fengchu suspected that He might simultaneously wield "fate" and "time," making the Father of Curses outclassed from the beginning.

The coward only dared to lurk in the shadows, letting His followers chant exaggerated prayers to indulge in delusions.

‘Ah—’

Countless black "worms" writhed in agony, emitting anguished shrieks.

This was another difference between the Father of Curses and the Moth God: the two of them were each more shrill than the last.

Yi Fengchu flicked His forked tongue in displeasure, His tail slapping impatiently and obliterating another cluster of the Father of Curses’ black tendrils.

At last, the Father of Curses fell silent.

Realizing that wailing was futile, He measured His words carefully, enduring the pain to plead:

‘Pl-please, don’t devour me entirely… I can offer You the scepter of curses!’

‘I can even become Your Attendant Deity… No! A servant, a menial servant would do!’

‘I only beg for a chance to live and serve You…’

The serpents paused, locking gazes, their hisses forming an incomprehensible internal dialogue.

This ignited a faint spark of hope in the Father of Curses.

While feigning complete submission and surrender, He pondered whether He could exploit a lapse in "Fate’s" attention to escape…

Yi Fengchu’s colossal serpentine form lowered itself, loomed over His prey like a towering mountain, casting a vast shadow.

"Actually, you’re just stalling to escape, aren’t you?" He remarked coldly, cutting straight to the Father of Curses’ thoughts.

The Father of Curses stiffened.

Frantically scrambling for excuses, He was cut off as "Fate" continued:

"I can see several possible futures unfolding from you."

"Before you begged for mercy, you had two paths: death or servitude."

The Father of Curses froze, His black tendrils rigid with dread.

Cold vertical pupils locked onto Him as Yi Fengchu slowly declared, "But after you spoke, a third path emerged—"

The Serpent chuckled. "Escape."

The Father of Curses was at a loss for words.

How could He refute the change in His own fate?

If the Father of Curses had a human form, with the ability to sweat, He would undoubtedly be drenched by now.

Meanwhile, the encircling serpents continued their hushed hissing. The colossal Serpent coiled around Him, as if marking a hunting ground, while teasingly musing:

"Let’s see where you’d try to flee."

"Oh, among your escape possibilities, there’s an even odds you’d head to the second dimension of the Tree of Life, and another fifty percent for the seventh dimension."

"What delightful prospects, isn’t it?"

With malicious amusement, Yi Fengchu prodded at the Father of Curses’ mental vulnerabilities: "A shame your chances of success are a laughable 0.8%..."

After a pause, He leisurely counted down: "0.8%, 0.7%, 0.6%..."

"—Zero."

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

Amidst the serpents’ frenzied feasting, Yi Fengchu remained uncharacteristically detached from the hunt.

Perhaps satiation occasionally spurred idle philosophical musings. Staring at the writhing black tendrils of the Father of Curses being devoured by His avatars, He suddenly pondered:

Whether it was the swarming, fluttering Moth God with human faces or the Father of Curses’ squirming vermicular strands of curse runes—

Human common sense told Yi Fengchu that normal people would balk at swallowing such creatures alive.

Few humans could tolerate the sensation of living things thrashing and squirming in their mouths.

And the shredded remains of these creatures, their nerves still firing for a brief time, might reflexively twitch or spasm before sliding down the esophagus to become part of the body.

Even without the "food" resisting, the innate revulsion ingrained in humans would make the throat spasm and reject the meal.

Yi Fengchu wasn’t sure how to define this subconscious instinct—

Should it be called "human nature" or "the imprint of civilization"?

He couldn’t comprehend why humans would suppress their appetites and spit out prey already in their mouths.

Yi Fengchu had never experienced such common human sensibilities.

It seemed that compared to "humanity," the "savagery" in His nature always prevailed, relentlessly overriding His instincts.

This made it impossible for Him to fully understand humans—and even harder for humans to understand Him.

Just like when Yi Fengchu was a child, He once became fascinated by the insects beneath the persimmon tree in front of His home. He would squat patiently by the roots, watching ants, earthworms, beetles, and other insects go about their business, observing them for entire days.

Sometimes during rain, He’d even crouch under an umbrella, watching knots of earthworms emerge from the soil to breathe, their pale segmented forms twisting together.

Until His mother returned from work, glanced at the earthworms, and asked with a smile, "Has our Xiao Yi taken to bugs?"

"Thinking of becoming an entomologist when you grow up? Hmm, let me think… I’ve got tomorrow off. How about a trip to the insect exhibition in the nearby City B?"

At the time, the dark-haired child squatting beneath the persimmon tree fell silent for a long moment. His dark eyes were like a bottomless abyss, impossible to read. Finally, He slowly asked, "Why… put insects on display?"

Yi Meishan took the child's hand. Although Xiaoyi Fengchu wouldn't play wildly like other kids and return filthy, she still patted his clothes like any typical mother would, brushing off any possible dust.

The mother and son headed home together. Yi Meishan patiently explained, "Because people want to understand them."

"Why would they?"

Xiaoyi Fengchu cocked his head. "People are bigger than bugs. People can eat bugs, so bugs are food for people—so why should people understand food?"

The smile on Yi Meishan's face gradually faded, replaced by a look of concern. "You’ve been hunched by the tree all this time—don’t tell me you were thinking about eating bugs?"

"People can’t, and shouldn’t…" The mother hesitated, murmuring, "Besides, our family isn’t so poor that we need to eat dirt or bugs."

Then, as if suddenly struck by a thought, she cupped Xiaoyi Fengchu’s face in her hands, inspecting him closely before trying to peek into his mouth in alarm. "Wait! You didn’t already try to eat them, did you?! Were you planning to eat those earthworms? Open your mouth, let me see—"

Xiaoyi Fengchu blinked, not understanding his mother’s urgency, but obligingly leaned back and opened his mouth.

He felt his head seized by two hands, shaken back and forth until his vision blurred.

"Xiao Yi, remember this! Unless you’re starving to death, you can’t just eat bugs—like digging up earthworms to eat! That's not what people do!"

This childhood experience inexplicably left him with two rules:

First, do not eat humans.

Because Mother is human, and Mother is not food—therefore, humans are not food.

Second, do not casually eat bugs.

Especially the squirming, crawling kind under the persimmon tree.

As for everything else, Yi Fengchu could only sigh at how many complicated rules humans had. To this day, He still didn’t fully understand them, so He could only set himself routines like a machine, mimicking human behavior on the surface.

His mother’s face gradually faded into the blur of his shaking vision. The serpent closed its eyes briefly at the haze of memories, and when it reopened them, all that remained within the circle of snakes was the last remaining part of the Father of Curses.

After all the slender black threads had been devoured, the Father of Curses was left with only its central, main body—

A thick, elongated form composed of densely packed curse symbols, like a massive, soft-bodied segmented worm.

It had no distinct head or tail—both ends of its body bore yawning mouths, each as wide as its body’s diameter, lined with spiraling rows of serrated teeth. One could easily imagine how it shredded its prey while feeding.

When the Father of Curses opened both mouths, Yi Fengchu could almost see straight through from one end, watching the teeth gradually disappear into the dark, endless gullet of its body before spotting the fangs at the other end.

...It looked grotesque, but the scent was intoxicating, carrying an irresistible pull for Yi Fengchu.

If the earlier thin black threads could be slurped down like noodles, then facing this "giant worm" nearly a quarter of His size, Yi Fengchu found it a bit harder to dig in.

Would eating this part qualify as "casually eating bugs" in Mother’s definition?

Half of the snakes in the coil hissed: *'Eat it! Eat it, eat it, eat it—'*

*'What you call humanity is but a sprout that emerged just a million years back, yet the nature of eating and being eaten, hunting and being hunted, has existed since the primordial dark—long before the first lightning split the sky!'*

So Yi Fengchu opened His mouth, ready to follow instinct and swallow the Father of Curses, leaving digestion to the passage of time.

But the other half of the serpent coil stirred restlessly, their voices whispering:

*'Yet you chose Mother, came into this world—for what purpose?'*

*'The endless ages spent in the belly of the nameless existence, the infinite marks carved into its flesh—all of it sought to dismantle and reshape you, to turn you into a beast.'*

*'Do you truly wish to surrender, to let yourself be tamed and embrace savagery as it desired?'*

"..."

Yi Fengchu stood frozen in indecision, torn between choices.

Just then, He sensed a familiar presence entering His feeding territory.

He brightened—He had thought of the perfect solution: civilization began with the creation and development of tools.

So if He sliced up the Father of Curses before eating it, wouldn’t that align with normal human behavior?

Without turning His head, He commanded the intruder: "You, come here."

His snake tail pointed at the remains of the Father of Curses. "Help me prep this for eating."

The "intruder"—Li Lanyin, who had come to follow the Lord of Fate—blinked. "?"