Nirvanic Extinction Mountain.
Deep within the southeastern mountains of the Central Plains, dawn was breaking, with fog wrapped around the mountainside.
Following the mountain path upward, the eaves of a building began to appear through the pine trees.
It was a tidy roof with tiles.
Ascending the stone steps revealed a wide courtyard, and beyond it, a large pavilion sat in the center.
It was a temple.
At least, it looked that way from a distance.
In the courtyard, dozens of monks sat in neat rows.
Shaven-headed monks in reddish-brown robes sat cross-legged, quietly chanting scriptures.
Their voices merged into one, filling the morning air.
A low, murmuring chorus.
Perhaps the morning prayers at a mountain temple were always like this.
The wind blew, frequently swaying the wind chimes hanging from the eaves.
Clatter.
Click, clatter.
The sound was not clear.
It was not the pure chime of metal striking metal, but the dull sound of something dry clacking together.
Bones.
The chimes hanging from the eaves were made of bone.
In a corner of the courtyard, three monks knelt, trimming something.
Their quiet work in the shade, where the sunlight had not yet reached, looked no different from artisans preparing their materials.
Their fingertips were meticulous, their expressions reverent.
However, a closer look would reveal the truth.
The monks were carving, grinding, and polishing human bones into something.
There was no revulsion or madness in their touch.
They were simply the hands of people dedicated to their work with all their heart and soul.
Even the incense that filled the temple had a fishy odor.
Not the smell of fish, but the faint, spreading, fishy scent of human origin.
It was the scent of blood.
No one here found the familiar smell that settled at the tip of their noses strange.
The Dark Rakshasa Way.
One of the Seven Great Demonic Sects.
A cult founded eight hundred years ago by the Rakshasa Demonic Sovereign, who had fallen from the Buddhist Sect.
Slaughter is Liberation.
A doctrine stating that both the killer and the killed attain salvation.
They were people who drew mandalas with blood and crafted Dharma Artifacts from human skeletons, a group whose madness even other Unorthodox Factions kept their distance from.
And all of this was a perfectly natural daily routine and morning for these people.
● ● ●
Inside the Rakshasa Hall.
It was very dark, perhaps because there were no windows.
Candles placed here and there cast a low light, but even that was not a whole light.
The candles, made from human fat, gave off a fishy smell that faintly permeated the entire space as they burned.
In the deepest part of the main hall, right in the center.
In the place where a Buddha should have sat, something that was not a Buddha sat.
A seated statue of the Rakshasa Demonic Sovereign.
The massive statue, crafted from human bone and metal, had neither a smile of enlightenment nor a gaze of compassion, but only a vacant face as it looked down upon the world from the darkness.
From the incense burner before it, red smoke rose slowly, blurring the statue's outline.
Directly below the statue.
A person sat cross-legged on the Dharma seat.
A shaven-headed monk dressed in reddish-brown robes—not a vivid red, but the color of old, darkened blood.
His frame was that of a gaunt ascetic, yet the spirit within him was not frail.
Deep wrinkles were etched across his entire face, but the light in his eyes was youthful.
His eyes were half-closed.
A smile played on his lips.
At first glance, he would have appeared to be a great master.
If not for the 108 prayer beads on his left hand, each one made from a human finger bone.
Every time one bead turned, the dry sound of bone against bone spread through the darkness.
The Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate.
The man who had been the 17th leader of the eight-hundred-year-old cult for an impressive fifty years.
A man stood before him.
A middle-aged man with a half-shaved head, leaving the sides short.
The reddish-brown monk's robe he wore over his large, sturdy frame looked more like a military uniform on him, making him seem more a general than a monk.
The Blood Rakshasa.
The Left Guardian.
The one who oversaw all combat and military affairs for the Dark Rakshasa Way.
"Is there still no response from the Formation Tower?"
At the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate's question, the Blood Rakshasa bowed his head.
"No reply has come yet. It seems the discussions within the Formation Tower have not concluded easily after our offer of an upfront payment."
Clack.
A bone bead on the prayer beads turned.
"There is no need to rush."
There was no impatience in the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate's voice.
It was no different from the tone of a master teaching his disciples the truth.
"Money is the thickest of all worldly delusions. It will take time to use it as a needle to open the gates of the Formation Tower."
"Yes."
The Blood Rakshasa's reply was brief.
The affairs of the Formation Tower were of no interest to him anyway.
"I will report on the state of the war."
The Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate turned another bead.
"The operation to annihilate the Branch Sword Corps is complete."
The Blood Rakshasa's voice was dry.
It was not the voice of someone reporting the life and death of five hundred people, but that of someone reporting on this month's supply status.
"The Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect's Branch Sword Corps. Approximately five hundred strong. Since the start of the war, they were scattered in small-group units across dozens of locations, inspecting the defense readiness of their branch sects."
Click.
The Blood Rakshasa's finger flicked a protection talisman at his waist before he continued his report.
"We deployed five of the lower eight Rakshasas to simultaneously strike and destroy the small groups. As of now, the Branch Sword Corps has been completely wiped out. We inflicted additional damage on three of the Vast Heaven's branch sects, but failed to capture the Branch Sword Corps Leader."
"His fate is unknown?"
"He escaped, but having already sustained grave injuries, I believe he has either already achieved Buddhahood or will soon do so."
Achieving Buddhahood.
Death is ultimately the path to becoming a Buddha.
The same goes for killing.
The reason they kill so diligently, and the reason they do not fear death at all, is all based on the same principle.
A subtle wrinkle folded atop the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate's half-closed eyes.
"Five hundred souls have safely achieved Buddhahood."
Namu Amitabha.
The bone prayer beads turned, clack, clack.
"A great Dharma assembly has finally arrived."
The Blood Rakshasa merely bowed his head.
Five hundred had achieved Buddhahood.
Those five hundred were a unit of the Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect, the forces of one of the Ten Great Sects of the Orthodox Faction.
The annihilation of the Branch Sword Corps meant the general collapse of the Vast Heaven's branch sect defense system, and this signified the transition from a local conflict to an all-out war.
"Continue."
The Blood Rakshasa soon raised his head.
"There is one more thing to report."
This time, his voice was subtly different.
His military reporting style was the same, but it carried a certain weight.
"It is about the Patrol Sword Corps."
"The Patrol Sword Corps, you say."
Clack.
"Are you speaking of the deluded souls led by Benefactor Sang Gwan?"
"Yes. The entire Patrol Sword Corps of the Vast Heaven was moving toward the River Capital, and the Blood Scent Society was tracking them."
"What is the problem?"
"It would be more accurate to hear it directly from Scent Wolf."
The Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate's eyes did not open.
However, the left hand that had been turning the bone prayer beads stopped.
Recognizing this as permission, the Blood Rakshasa turned around.
"Enter."
The doors of the Rakshasa Hall opened, and with the light, a presence seeped in.
Scent Wolf.
One of the Twelve Rakshasas, one of the lower eight, and the leader of the Blood Scent Society.
A Wolf-human.
A practitioner who had accepted the energy of the Path of Beasts and drawn the spirit of a wolf into himself.
One who had erased the boundary between human and beast.
As if one with the light, Scent Wolf was already prostrated before the Dharma seat.
Scent Wolf does not speak before the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate.
He reports only through the Blood Rakshasa.
That was this beast-like man's rank and duty.
The Blood Rakshasa looked down at Scent Wolf.
"Report."
Scent Wolf's lips opened as he remained prostrated.
"They were definitely stepped on."
It meant that some of the blood scent detection points had reacted.
The blood scent laid in advance along the early part of the Patrol Sword Corps' route had been stepped on as planned, meaning the Patrol Sword Corps was definitely moving along the expected route.
"But it was cut off."
"Where?"
"After a point two hundred li north of the River Capital, none of the blood scent detection points have reacted."
"You mean the trail of the Patrol Sword Corps was lost from there?"
"Yes, that is correct. However…"
Scent Wolf raised his head.
His already yellowish pupils shone even more brightly yellow.
"There was nothing."
The Blood Rakshasa's eyes narrowed.
"By nothing, do you mean there were no traces of movement or battle?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"And no smell?"
"None."
The Blood Rakshasa's jaw tensed.
Scent Wolf's nose was on a different level from any other tracker in the Blood Scent Society.
While an ordinary scent follower could only detect special scents, this Wolf-human could smell blood, flesh, and even the scent of fear.
He was a man who could read blood scent detection points from hundreds of li away with his nose.
And that nose smelled nothing.
Thirty-one men had been on the move, and those thirty-one men had disappeared.
If there had been a battle, there should have been traces of metal.
If there were corpses, there should have been the smell of blood.
If flesh rotted, the smell should have spread.
And yet.
There was nothing?
"However."
Scent Wolf's report continued.
"Around the same time, a nearby slash-and-burn village was found completely burned to the ground."
"Hmm? Are you saying a village at the exact location where the Patrol Sword Corps should have passed was burned?"
"Yes, that is correct. And the residents there were also all burned and gone."
"Hmm. Anything else?"
"The horses the Patrol Sword Corps were riding were all found. But…"
"But?"
"As I said before, the traces of the Patrol Sword Corps Leader Sang Gwanhwi and the thirty members of the Patrol Sword Corps have completely vanished. Not a single trace was left behind."
After the report ended, the Rakshasa Hall fell silent.
Only the human-fat candle flickered alone.
The fishy smell swayed in the darkness accordingly.
Clack.
The silence was broken only after the paused bone prayer beads began to turn again.
"The Patrol Sword Corps…"
The voice of the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate.
"Disappeared, you say."
His half-closed eyes opened a tiny fraction.
But they closed again not long after.
The deep wrinkles on his forehead deepened further, and a brief silence followed.
"Namu Amitabha."
The bone prayer beads turned with a clack.
"This is a good thing."
The Blood Rakshasa raised his eyes.
"...You say it is a good thing."
"Whoever killed them, thirty-one souls have crossed the river of life and death. What could it be but achieving Buddhahood?"
Huhu.
A quiet laugh filled the Rakshasa Hall.
It was not the laugh of a madman.
It was the laugh of an enlightened seeker, filled with conviction.
A deep, quiet smile that only one who has seen through the principles of the world could make.
"However."
The laughter ceased.
"You said there were no bodies."
Clack.
"It means there was a killer, but there was also someone who collected the bodies. That is not achieving Buddhahood, but thievery."
The Blood Rakshasa straightened his back.
Indeed, even while calling it a 'good thing,' the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate had not missed the abnormality hidden behind it.
"There is someone who is stealing another's enlightenment."
The Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate's left hand, holding the bone prayer beads, stopped.
"Scent Wolf."
The shoulders of the man prostrated on the floor tensed slightly.
It was rare for the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate to call his name directly.
"Find the whereabouts of the disappeared souls."
Scent Wolf's forehead pressed deeper into the stone slab.
"If there are no bodies, read again from where the scent was cut off. Be it the wind or the earth, traces never disappear completely."
"Yes, Great Venerate. I will obey your command."
Just as he appeared, Scent Wolf's presence vanished as if extinguished.
● ● ●
After Scent Wolf withdrew, only the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate and the Blood Rakshasa remained in the Rakshasa Hall.
The human-fat candles still burned low, and the statue of the Rakshasa Demonic Sovereign looked down from beyond the red smoke.
"Blood Rakshasa."
"Yes."
"With the Branch Sword Corps annihilated, the branch sects of the Vast Heaven are now as good as naked."
"That is correct."
The Blood Rakshasa immediately calculated.
"The Branch Sword Corps was the backbone of their branch sect's defenses. They were scattered in small-group units, maintaining a communication system for emergencies, but that communication itself was severed by our simultaneous, separate attacks. At this point, the Vast Heaven branch sects are isolated without support from their main sect."
Clack.
"They are isolated souls."
The Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate said with his eyes closed.
"I am not telling you to raise your swords."
A lowered tone.
It was not a command, but a sermon.
"I am telling you to light a lantern."
The Blood Rakshasa bowed deeply.
"These souls in the darkness are wandering, unable to cross the river of life and death."
Clack.
The bone prayer beads made a full rotation.
"The remaining souls of the Vast Heaven who have lost their way… help them achieve Buddhahood."
"Yes, Great Venerate. Three locations in the east, two in the south. I will deploy three of the lower eight Rakshasas. And I will place one of the upper four Rakshasas in charge of the eastern front."
"I permit it."
The Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate only points the way.
Open the gate of enlightenment, help them achieve Buddhahood, light a lantern.
"Namu Amitabha."
And so.
The war was the Blood Rakshasa's domain.
Where to strike, whom to kill, in what order to advance.
The Blood Rakshasa also brought his palms together in a respectful gesture.
"Namu Amitabha."
Now was the time to practice the way of the Buddha with a sword as a lantern.
Until the day the entire Central Plains submits to the Rakshasa, their greatly compassionate swords would not rest.