Be a lord in the world of Indian mythology

Chapter 43 Mohenjo

The scenery here is almost identical to the village I saw yesterday.

The place was equally desolate, with withered grass and trees, all the food and water available had been consumed, the stoves were cold, the warehouses were empty, and only some dry firewood and broken utensils were scattered on the ground.

There were no signs of the bodies being moved, no signs of struggle, as if the people here had collectively lost their lives in an instant, silently walking towards death.

This made even the most careless and detail-oriented person realize the seriousness of the problem.

This is not a simple drought.

This could be a bizarre calamity that envelops the entire valley.

"Brahma above!"

May Shiva protect you!

Everyone was praying silently, and even a warrior like Vilandra felt a little uneasy.

Bim's expression was no longer as calm as before; even someone as worldly-wise as him had never seen such a scene before.

He walked up to Vijay and said in a low voice, "Master, if you keep going forward, you'll reach Mohenjo-daro, the city in the center of this valley."

Mohenjo-daro, Vijay also knew this city.

Compared to its neighbors, it is not too far from Harappa, and trade between the two cities is relatively frequent.

However, the city's reputation has never been anything to brag about.

According to legend, the Kshatriya nobles of Mohenjo-daro were extremely weak, and military and political power were firmly in the hands of the Brahmins.

What's worse is that the Kshatriya bloodline in the city is gradually weakening and is almost extinct, so it is secretly called the "City Where the Kshatriya Bloodline Is Extinct".

Even more frightening is that countless rumors are circulating in the shadows, saying that the Brahmins in this city do not worship Shiva, and that they only follow the divine revelation of Yama.

The Brahmins throughout the city praised death, and in order to gain God's favor, they would offer everything as a sacrifice to the god of death.

Even so, Mohenjo was never this exaggerated in the past; it was at least a prosperous city, and its caravans would occasionally appear in Harappa, bringing goods with distinctive characteristics.

So in the past, when Vijay heard these rumors, he just thought they were nonsense. But now that he has seen the two dead villages with his own eyes, and when he thinks of these strange legends, he feels a chill in his heart.

"Indra, protect us, Lord Vijay!" Vilandra was also getting restless. He had been here many times before for official business, the most recent time being a year and a half ago, but the situation then was completely different from now. "Can't we take a detour? Something's not right in Mohenjo-daro!"

Vijay thought for a moment and then shook his head. Bim had already confided in him before.

Each time a caravan sets off, the first half of the journey follows the same route. If they were to change routes abruptly, they might not be able to find their way back to the key checkpoints.

"No, this will cause trade routes to extend..."

Upon hearing this, Vilandra could say nothing more; he understood the importance of the matter.

The caravan had no choice but to continue on its way, and before long, it arrived at the only large river on the outskirts of Mohenjo.

The scene before them left everyone completely frozen in place.

Due to the prolonged drought, the water level of the wide river has dropped to its lowest point, exposing large areas of dried-up riverbeds and shallows.

But right there on the open space by the river, as far as the eye could see, it was packed with people!

Men, women, the elderly, and children, dressed in rags and with sallow and emaciated faces, knelt on the ground all over the mountains and fields, too many to count.

They gathered around a towering altar, upon which a bonfire blazed, its flames shooting skyward. A group of Brahmin priests in magnificent robes stood atop the altar, chanting obscure and incomprehensible Sanskrit hymns in a low, eerie voice that carried on the wind.

The entire riverbank was enveloped in an eerie atmosphere of both frenzied frenzy and deathly silence.

Fan Numu's expression was solemn. As a servant of the orthodox Brahmins, he had absolute authority to speak on such sacrificial rituals.

He floated to Vijay and Vilandra's side, his gaze fixed on the altar, and said in a heavy tone, "This is a sacrifice to Yama!"

"A noble Brahmin has returned to the embrace of the gods!"

The death of a high-ranking Brahmin is a momentous event in any city!

But no city should be in such a state!

Vijay stared intently at the crowd on the riverbank, his heart pounding.

He saw the people kneeling on the ground, their faces expressionless, their eyes empty and numb, filled only with fanaticism and blind obedience.

They knelt motionless on the ground, stretching out their hands toward the altar, repeating monotonous prayers over and over.

The road was completely blocked by a dense crowd, and the caravan could neither move forward nor stay there for long.

"Even if it's a sacrificial ceremony, you can't completely block the road!" Sada, the most hot-tempered of them all, couldn't hold back any longer and walked to the outermost edge of the crowd.

"Brahma above, we are a caravan from Harappa. Could you please make way for us?" Sada said, reaching out to pat the shoulder of the Shudra in the last row.

The next second, an extremely bizarre scene unfolded.

The person who was patted on the shoulder remained in the outstretched hand position, his prayer abruptly stopped, his body went limp, and he fell straight to the ground, never to make a sound again.

Then, the second, the third, the tenth...

People fell to the ground one after another, like harvested straw, losing their lives completely.

What's even more chilling is that some people had bread and water jugs right next to them, but they didn't even glance at them, eat a single bite, or drink a single drop, as if food and water were meaningless to them.

Their sole purpose in life was to come here, complete this sacrifice, and then peacefully walk towards death.

"They are not worshipping gods; they are sacrificing themselves," the purposeful voice rang out in a low voice. "These people, seemingly holding a funeral for the Brahmins, are in reality giving themselves a grand death ceremony!"

"This is not something we can interfere with, nor is it something we can change."

Does this mean that trade routes are no longer viable?

In his frustration, Vijay suddenly thought of something...

No, you can't laugh!

With a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, Vijay immediately felt relieved.

"Shiva, behold, gentlemen, look there!" someone in the group suddenly exclaimed.

The crowd looked in the direction of the sound and saw the man driving the camels pointing to the river in the distance. Downstream, there was a shallow beach that was exposed above the water, and a broken stone bridge still stood on the beach, which looked like it could barely allow oxcarts and horses to pass.

There were faint figures on the stone bridge.

By simply turning back and taking the detour via that stone bridge, one can avoid the crowd blocking the road and continue onward.

"Great! Let's take a detour right away and cross over via that stone bridge!"

Vilandra overstepped his bounds and immediately gave the order.