The Atrocity of Human Sacrifice
It's a bit surprising, but human sacrifice is treated as an utterly inhumane act. And astonishingly, the complete ban on it in the Central Plains is a relatively recent development. The Central Plains never reached Aztec levels of offering humans year-round, but the practice of retainer sacrifice persisted steadily. It was Taizu, the founder who rebuilt Song, who strictly prohibited it.
So, seeing traces of human sacrifice banned by Taizu—not even retainer burial, but a massive slaughter site—Gu Gangwang's reaction was bound to be explosive.
When did this happen?
He racked his brains, studying the inscriptions on the cave walls and the state of the bones. For starters, it couldn't be recent. No Mongols remained in the Central Plains, and even if any had, they lacked the capability or conditions for such large-scale sacrifice. At the latest, this must have happened before Song unified the Central Plains. That alone explained the catastrophe: the poor condition of the bones, and Hengshanpa's ignorance of a mass sacrifice right in their own backyard on Mount Heng.
During the Mongol era, the religious sects couldn't wield their power.
In the past, famous peaks like Hengshan, Huashan, and Songshan weren't the front yards of their sects—they were playgrounds for the Tibetan Buddhists. If those traces hadn't been discovered yet, it made sense. Yes, it made sense, but—
"Damn those northern barbarians! Barbarians or not, weren't they once holders of the Mandate of Heaven? Instead of bringing peace to the world, they sacrificed innocent people?!"
That didn't quell Gu Gangwang's fury. He began emitting a dark crimson aura, glaring at the bones with bloodshot eyes. It was worrisome enough to wonder if he'd suffer qi deviation.
"And the result of that evil deed... is those things?"
Finally, he creakily turned his head toward the two deer.
...Wait a minute. No way.
"Cursed from birth, eh."
- Kki-iiing...!
- Kki, kki-ooong...
The deer, who trembled in fear even when he just crossed his arms, now shook like they were having seizures in the face of his rage. I started shaking too.
I understood Gu Gangwang's feelings, but killing those creatures would be a problem. We hadn't proven their link to the sacrifice yet, and if there was one, we needed to understand how it worked. Crucially, this place had been soaked in blood from the sacrifices. No matter that they were beasts, spilling new blood here could trigger who-knows-what.
"Your Highness!"
"Step aside, Han Un. I don't want to end the Giwang line."
I quickly positioned myself between Gu Gangwang and the deer. He spoke flatly. Just meeting his gaze made my limbs tremble, but it was fine. Even in his deranged state, he showed no intent to harm Giwang's grandson—me.
"Nothing's certain yet. Whether the Mongols' sacrifice succeeded, if these spirit beasts were truly affected, if it was intentional—none of it's clear."
"No hard evidence, but plenty of circumstantial. Spirit beasts die and leave inner cores anyway. Hastening that a bit isn't an issue."
I almost nodded at calling them inner core vending machines, but held back.
"Rushing ahead might lead us astray. We can't cover the blood of the wronged with new blood."
If I backed down here, the spirit beasts would turn to spirit materials in a second. Adding variables to an unsolved mystery? No good. As Gu Gangwang said, we'd extract their cores eventually—why not take it slow? Besides, for all we knew, the sacrifice used Mongol soldiers, not Central Plains folk.
"……."
Anyway, Gu Gangwang fell silent at my words. He seemed torn between ignoring me and turning me into a donut, or letting it slide for Grandfather's sake.
"Han Un, working as a censor's sharpened your tongue."
After an eternity of silence, he spoke again.
"You're too kind, Your Highness."
"Your grandfather would've convinced me with his sword, not words."
Only a Twelve Great Master like Grandfather—or this guy—could pull that off. Not some minor martial artist like me.
"Fine. For Giwangga's face, I'll let it pass this time."
"My thanks for your mercy, Your Highness."
He clapped my shoulder as he passed and headed out of the cave. Good. As cranky as his temper was unpredictable when riled, it cooled just as fast. Another king might've needed more convincing.
- Kki-ing, kki-iiing!
- Kki-ooong!
Once he was gone, the deer hiding behind me rubbed their faces against my cheeks. They knew who'd saved their hides...
Soon after, Hengshanpa's sect leader and elders arrived at the cave. Gu Gangwang must've sent word on his way out.
"This outrage against heaven and earth..."
The leader's face hardened far more than when the deer had tormented him. No surprise. Even if they hadn't known, even under Mongol rule when they couldn't act, this was Hengshan—one of China's famed sacred peaks. Discovering such traces now?
"Nearly a hundred. A hundred humans offered as sacrifice."
"Madmen. What were they trying to create with this madness?"
The elders muttered gravely. One or two bodies would've been a tragic tale of innocents slain by brutal barbarians. But a hundred in sacrifice? Beyond tragedy. Even if Mongol soldiers, a ritual mobilizing that manpower wouldn't yield ordinary results.
But no records of it?
Oddly, nothing in the annals. If Mongols had swept battlefields or struck Taizu's holdings with the fruits of a hundred sacrifices, records would've survived. So, two possibilities: they botched it despite the sacrifice like idiots, or results needed time, but they got overrun and fled north first.
Either way, idiots.
I'd heard late-stage Mongols went seriously off the rails. But this much?
"...These spirit beasts were affected by the sacrifice."
"What?"
"No."
Gu Yeong, examining bones and talismans, drew all eyes to the deer. After their antics, we'd pegged them as demon beasts, but if born from human blood, the label fit.
"But not the intended outcome."
Gazes softened. Unintended? Can't be helped.
"I avoid sorcery, so I don't know the details, but the sacrifice artificially generated massive energy. With the northern barbarians gone from the Central Plains, that energy lost its controller and scattered across Hengshan."
"And it happened to settle in those deer?"
"More precisely, they became spirit beasts first— that's accurate. It didn't target hosts; it accumulated in myriad creatures, manifesting now."
Silence gripped the cave at Gu Yeong's theory. A Mongol ritual fizzling amid expulsion; uncontrolled energy self-propagating across the mountain; not aimed at deer, yet turning two into spirit beasts. Potent stuff.
"...If it ended during the war, disaster nearly struck."
All nodded at the leader's words. Deer hit randomly evolved into spirit beasts. Imagine humans channeling that vast power—Mongols would've gained immense forces.
Shit.
This was insane. How to report it? People still flew into qi deviation at "Mongol" alone.
"Left Vice Censor-in-chief."
"Yes, Sect Leader. Speak."
While I pondered alone, the leader spoke.
"We can't tell if these were innocent Central Plains folk or blind Mongol soldiers. But as Taoists, we can't ignore souls denied a proper end."
Approaching the bone pile, he knelt and gently touched them.
"As Hengshanpa's leader, I humbly request permission for a reburial rite here to soothe these vengeful spirits."
"I'll petition His Majesty."
"Thank you, Left Vice Censor-in-chief."
I nodded to his plea as a man and Taoist, not sect head. Hengshan was sacred—one of the Five Great Mountains, like Taishan where emperors offered. Only the Emperor or Baekryeon Cult Leader held rite rights there. Yet he asked, braving imperial displeasure for the slain.
I'll frame the report as glowingly as possible.
So, infuse the Emperor's report with soul—make him see the request as human compassion, not a challenge to authority.
Back at Hengshanpa, I shared intel with Gu Gangwang. To affirm the deer as innocents born of stacked coincidences.
"Reburial, eh."
And to include his backing in the report.
"Not bad. Hengshan's one of the Five Peaks, but Taishan's what matters. His Majesty will approve the leader's plea."
Gu Gangwang, still bothered by the bones, readily signed. Perfect. With a royal and a king petitioning, approval odds soared.
"Hm."
"Your Highness?"
"Those two follow you closely now."
Glancing back, there they were, trailing me.
"Spirit beasts recognize their benefactor."
"If only they'd been like this from the start."
"Haha!"
True. Now their eyes shone adoringly, but pre-Gu Gangwang? Mixed feelings.
"What's it matter? They're tame now!"
Gu Gangwang guffawed, paused thoughtfully, then continued.
"Perfect—two of 'em. You and the inspector ride 'em."
"...Pardon?"
"Or have 'em pull a carriage instead."
"Pardon?"
His absurd idea drew reflexive questions. We had perfectly good horses—why deer?
"Y'know, they've called deer 'horses' before. No reason it wouldn't work."
"Are you referring to... pointing at a deer and calling it a horse?"
"Yeah, that!"
Speechless at his brazen reply.
Is he nuts?
That's not what that parable means.