Chapter 610: Guide

Translator: Translation Nation Editor: Translation Nation

Affirming that this ‘Rainbow Meal’ didn’t contain human flesh, fingernails, pubic hair, or other toxins, Sheyan started gorging himself. Following that, a dark-skinned lass hoisted over a reed woven basket of pastries over.

The pastries were exceedingly unusual. Pouring the local specialty, sorghum powder, into a finely cut wooden gourd before steaming it over a stone pot of boiling water; until the pastries exuberated a delicious fragrance. After which a ground mix of salt, banana, peanuts, palm oil and hot pepper will be added. In the native tongue, it was known as ‘Ygela’.

These greyish pastries had a supple texture and tasted sour. Sheyan even noticed the tribe folks sprinkling a greyish powder into their mugs. When he mimicked them, he realized it wasn’t ground pepper or table salt like what he imagined it to be. Instead, those were ores ground into grains that he crunched uncomfortably with his teeth. In contrast, those natives swayed their heads with contentment while drinking those down. During the latter stages, they lifted their straw skirts and started dancing around.

As he spectated their movements, Sheyan suddenly recalled that during the time of the ancient China Jin dynasty, they would also grind minerals into powder; hailed as the ‘Five Minerals Powder’. That was the reason the famous Wang Xizhi farted and belched. Never did he expect in Africa, thousands of miles away, they shared a similar principle. It was a pity these tribesmen didn’t seem capable of leaving heirlooms like that of the Lantingji Xu*.

(TN: *The Lantingji Xu or Lanting Xu, is a piece of Chinese calligraphy work generally considered to be written by the well-known calligrapher Wang Xizhi from the East Jin Dynasty.)

Next, a couple of tribesmen proceeded to offer Sheyan their own delicacies. Delicacies like insect eggs, locusts, and worms….. Their behavior was similar to those red-scarfed young girls in the real world, with a red dot between their brows, who offered flowers to those uncles and aunties when they deplaned... Obviously, the symbolism was similar. Even though Sheyan was touched, accepting them was a whole different story.

Towards those unique African delicacies, Brother Black feasted till his belly turned round. Sheyan observed that Mogensha’s favourite seemed to be a black charred leaf thing, moreover he ate with keen pleasure. As such, Sheyan couldn’t resist the urge for a sample.

On the first bite, a sour taste with a tinge of salted egg yolk seeped out. On the second bite, the taste of barbeque was stronger, resembling that of fried poached egg or coddled egg. In no time, Sheyan could taste an unexplainable bloody taste...of which he tugged Brother Black to inquire subtly. Instantly, his eyes popped as his belly experienced the overturning seas. As it turns out, those were hand sized massive spiders, once that could even hunt down little birds. They skinned and wrapped the massive spider’s fatty body, before roasting them inside the fire…..

Earlier on, Sheyan had attempted to scour around for information, but unsure whether these natives were muddled or tight-lipped, he couldn’t obtain a single piece of intelligence.

After this, Sheyan didn’t dare to consume queer offered delicacies anymore. He waited until approximately half an hour later, where the intoxications of the rum kicked in and gradually crumbled the mental fortitude of the natives.

As the saying goes, drunkenness vomits out truths, Sheyan then started paying close attention to the sentences spewed by the Tribe Chieftain beside him.

"Don’t you have any other precious specialties?"

"N-Nah..nothing else, only these….."

"Come, sample our specialty, the Golden Rum (Hiccup)."

"Oh hck, not bad this taste, not bad ay."

"Chieftain, is it that your tribe warriors are not bold enough?"

Fuming up, the Chieftain rebuked. "Nonsense, our tribe’s warriors are as sly as wolves and as fierce as lions!"

"Then, why are you afraid of the enemy tribe of Ndipaya?"

"You, what do you know! That Ndipaya tribe aren’t humans, they are devils! Descendants of evil gods. Anyone who steps into those damned wetlands will be dragged into their remnants, forced to become horrifying slaves of the dead!"

"That’s just a fable right, fables are juicily exaggerated."

"That...that is no fable!! Twenty years ago, for my father, I ventured into that vast wetland. The heinous abnormalities of that place are absolutely unimaginable. Those diabolical and foreboding Ndipaya demons, they pursued us unceasingly! It was like a nightmare, but it wasn’t just them. Even nature became our enemy. Mahrus, our nature’s god, had gone completely berserk! Treacheries laid bare everywhere and even in the air, the soil and the rivers…..even the dead climbed back up to haunt us….."

Upon hearing the old Chieftain’s words, the eyes of the trio twinkled unanimously.

Although this old head guarded his lips like a closed bottle, he could only spew fragments of truths under the deadly influence of rum. Moreover, Sheyan could infer from Little Lord Fokke’s body, that place known as the Kijuju Wetlands, was definitely a dismal, putrid, treacherous place filled with epidemic pestilences.

Under such circumstances, if they could acquire the services of a guide, that could inevitably shave off half the required efforts while increasing their chances.

Nevertheless, these natives weren’t even accustomed to having a full meal. It was simply impossible to draw out adequate time need through this period of feasting and drinking. Furthermore, their alcohol tolerance was exceedingly poor.

When Sheyan still desired to interrogate the Chieftain on these matters, that old head fell into a deep slumber and could no longer be woken up.

Fortunately, they had managed to grasp definite information. Thus, the next step was to search out a clue amidst this confusing information, where the following steps would naturally unfold.

Sheyan immediately called for several witty pirates who were good drinkers, instructing them to survey for information as they brought good rum around. Soon after, various sorts of feedback came transmitting in.

Firstly, during that past year, the old Chieftain contracted a weird ailment; causing him to toss about in bed for entire days, wailing and groaning in pain, so much so that he wished to die instead.

As the son of the old Chieftain, Aram led the tribe’s warriors deep into the wetlands, in search of the mysterious root of the Ndipaya tribe – hailed as the ‘Stairway of the Sun’.

The legends described that particular flower to possess a terrifying and mystical force, capable of allowing humans to grasp the source of the un-death.

As one of the original tribes nearest to the Kijuju Wetlands, they managed to scout out the daily customs of those Ndipaya demons. The opportunity seized to infiltrate the wetlands was positioned coincidentally with one of the Ndipaya’s tribe sacrificial rite.

That year, a total of 147 tribe warrior followed the Chieftain to invade the vast Wetlands, but only 13 of them made it out alive.

Amongst those 13, four of them degenerated into fiends after seven days. Some others died, while others fled into the primitive jungles. Only five of them remain.

He also managed to infer another piece of information – many natives grumbled of their miserable livelihoods. Hence, he reckoned that with a low price, he could acquire their devotion.

Upon receiving the information, Sheyan swiftly stepped into motion.

The first thing was naturally to find out who were the survivors who invaded the Ndipaya tribe. However, it didn’t go smoothly as planned. The ones they found were all poor souls who had degraded to salivating and giggling imbeciles. The only one who still possessed clarity was the current Tribe Chieftain.

Evidently, that Chieftain would absolutely not leave with them, and forceful methods may end up in them overreaching themselves. With Sheyan’s methods of using both carrot and stick, he naturally could settle him, but it would require a period of time. However, they were only left with a measly few hours.

After considering from all perspectives, Sheyan’s pirates once again tapped on another report.

"Cap’n, me hears there was another who infiltrated ze so-called Kijuju Wetlands. His moniker be Mbenga."

Sheyan immediately felt this name was too familiar. Upon further thought, he realized it was that crazy fella who was butchering the zebra previously. "Wasn’t his name Mbenga as well?"

Recalling Mbenga’s consciousness and awareness, Sheyan knew he was absolutely not a lunatic. Thinking of that, Sheyan immediately pulled Jinkuang over. He then asked Mogensha and Reef to complement him in recruiting the natives, to form a troupe to enter the Kijuju Wetlands.

Proceeding from there, Sheyan bribed a tough looking dark-skinned lass with a gorgeous mirror, who he determined to be on intimate terms with the watchman of those ‘sinners’. Hence, even though that watchman revealed a troubled demeanor, his ears were pulled with great force the next second; as he experienced a pain that could even distort his facial features.

After gurgling out several rebukes, that dark-skinned lass halted her ravaging of his ears. Then, this tall and mighty watchmen, who feared his woman, opened the way.

Without wasting much effort, Sheyan arrived before Mbenga, who was imprisoned in a carelessly built straw cage.

Mbenga was a black man with a masculine and tall stature. Beside his triangular eyes, was a spider tattooed with striking paint on his left cheek.

When Sheyan sighted him, this large dude was currently kneading his temples with his large thumbs, with a tightly knitted frown on his face. It was as though he was trying to expel distracting thoughts from his mind.

There was a distinctive blood-red scar across his forehead; resembling a wriggling centipede. Probably because that portion of his skull had been fractured previously, the scar was strangely caved in; as though his brain was lacking a portion.

Even with superficial medical knowledge, Sheyan could tell Mbenga was exceptionally fortunate to be alive even just from that head injury alone, much less to say of him maintaining sanity.

After noticing Sheyan, Mbenga exclaimed.

"You…...I recognize you. You are the chieftain of the outsiders from the sea. What do you want?"

Pop! Sheyan’s answered by squeezing out the wax cork off the rum bottle.

Following that, the aroma of golden rum naturally pervaded through the air and wafted into Mbenga's nostrils.

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