Chapter 215
Chapter 215: Eight Trigram Hall (4)
Nirvana Mountain.
It was dawn in the deep reaches of the mountain range in the southeastern Central Plains, mist wrapping around the mountainside. Following the mountain path upward, eaves begin to appear between the pine trees. A neat roof topped with roof tiles. Climbing the stone steps, a wide courtyard opens up, and beyond it, a great hall sits facing forward.
It was a temple.
At least, that was how it appeared from a distance.
In the courtyard, dozens of monks sat in neat rows. Shaven-headed monks dressed in reddish-brown robes sat cross-legged in silent meditation, reading sutras. Their voices merged into one and filled the dawn air. A low, chanting chorus close to murmuring. Wherever one went, was this not the kind of scene one would find at a mountain temple's dawn prayer service?
The wind blew repeatedly, and the wind chimes hanging from the eave tips swayed with it.
Clatter. Click, tumble.
The sound was not clear. Not the pure, crisp ringing of metal striking metal, but a dry, dull sound of something hollow knocking against something else.
Bone.
It was because the wind chimes hanging from the eaves were made of bone.
In one corner of the courtyard, three monks knelt, carving something. Their quiet work in the shade where sunlight had not yet reached looked, from a distance, no different from craftsmen trimming raw materials. Their fingertips were meticulous, their expressions reverent.
Only up close could one see it.
The monks were carving, grinding, and shaping human bones into objects. In their hands there was neither revulsion nor madness. Simply the hands of people pouring their heart and soul into their work.
Even the incense filling the inside of the temple carried an unbearable raw smell.
Not the fishy smell of fish, but the faint, spreading raw scent originating from the human body. It was a Blood Fragrance. The rawness that settled familiarly at the tip of the nose was something no one here found strange in the slightest.
The Dark Net Rakshasa Path.
One of the Seven Evil Grand Cults.
A religious order founded eight hundred years ago by the Rakshasa Demon Lord, who had fallen from the Buddhist order.
Killing Is Liberation.
A doctrine that both those who kill and those who are killed are saved.
Even fellow Evil Sects kept their distance from their madness—those who painted mandalas in blood and forged ritual implements from human bones.
And for all the people here, all of this was a natural, everyday morning.
***
Inside Nacharjeon.
There were no windows, and so it was very dark. Candles placed here and there cast a low light, but even that was not wholesome light. Human tallow candles burned, and the raw smell they produced settled faintly throughout the entire space.
The deepest point at the very center of the main hall.
In the place where a Buddha should sit, something that was not a Buddha sat instead.
The seated statue of the Rakshasa Demon Lord.
A massive statue forged from human bones and metal, possessing no smile of enlightenment, no gaze of compassion—only a hollow face gazing down upon the world from within the darkness. From the incense burner placed before it, red smoke rose languidly, blurring the outline of the statue.
Directly below the seated statue.
On the Dharma throne sat a single person in the lotus position.
A shaven-headed monk draped in reddish-brown robes—not vivid red, but bloodstained cloth that had aged to black. The physique of a lean ascetic, yet the bones within had not weakened. Deep wrinkles were etched across his entire face, yet the light within his eyes was, on the contrary, youthful.
Half-closed eyes.
A smile at the corners of his lips.
At first glance, one would have taken him for an eminent monk.
That is, if not for the rosary of 108 human finger-joint bones looped over his left hand. Each time it rolled around, the dry sound of bone meeting bone spread through the darkness.
The Dark Net Great Venerable.
The one who had held the position of the 17th Cult Leader of the eight-hundred-year-old order for no less than fifty years.
Before him stood a man.
A middle-aged man with a half-shaved head—the crown shaved while the sides were left short. The reddish-brown monk's robe draped over his large, solid frame looked more like a military uniform than a monk's garb, making him appear less a monk and more a commander.
The Scarlet Rakshasa.
Left Guardian. The one who oversaw combat and military affairs in the Dark Net Rakshasa Path.
"Has there been no reply yet from Formation Tower?"
At the Dark Net Great Venerable's question, the Scarlet Rakshasa bowed at the waist.
"No reply has come yet. It appears the internal discussions within Formation Tower following the offer of the advance payment are not concluding easily."
Rattle.
One bead of the bone rosary turned.
"There is no need to hurry."
There was no urgency in the Dark Net Great Venerable's voice. It was no different from the tone of a master conveying principles to a disciple during a dharma talk.
"Money is the thickest delusion among the delusions of sentient beings. Using it as a needle to open the gates of Formation Tower is a matter that takes time."
"Yes."
The Scarlet Rakshasa's reply was brief. The affairs of Formation Tower were no concern of his in any case.
"I shall report on the war situation."
The Dark Net Great Venerable rolled the rosary one more time.
"The operation to destroy the Sword Branch Corps has been completed."
The Scarlet Rakshasa's voice was dry. It was not the voice of one reporting the life and death of five hundred, but rather the voice of one reporting the month's supply situation.
"The Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect's Sword Branch Corps. Approximately five hundred in scale. Since the war began, they had scattered across dozens of locations in small unit formations to conduct inspection tours for branch defense readiness."
Clack.
After the Scarlet Rakshasa's finger flicked the protective talisman at his waist once, the report continued.
"Five of the lower Eight Rakshasas were deployed to simultaneously destroy the small units individually. At this point, the Sword Branch Corps is annihilated across the entire area. Additional damage was inflicted on three of Vast Heaven's branch sects, but the capture of the Sword Branch Corps Leader failed."
"His whereabouts are unknown."
"He fled, but as he has already sustained severe injuries, it is presumed that he has already achieved Buddhahood or will do so shortly."
Achieving Buddhahood.
Death is, in the end, the path to becoming a Buddha.
The same applies to killing.
That they kill so diligently, and that they fear death not in the slightest—it all follows the same principle.
A single subtle wrinkle folded further on the Dark Net Great Venerable's half-closed eyes.
"Five hundred sentient beings have safely achieved Buddhahood."
Namu Amitabha.
The bone rosary went rattle, rattle.
"At last, the great Dharma assembly has arrived."
The Scarlet Rakshasa only bowed his head.
Five hundred had achieved Buddhahood. Those five hundred were the forces of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect's corps—the troops of one of the Ten Great Sects of the Orthodox Path. The destruction of the Sword Branch Corps meant the overall collapse of Vast Heaven's branch defense framework, and this signified that the local conflict had transformed into an all-out war.
"Continue."
The Scarlet Rakshasa raised his head at once.
"There is one more matter to report."
This time his voice was subtly different. The soldier's reporting manner remained the same, yet somehow it carried more weight.
"It concerns the Sword Patrol Corps."
"The Sword Patrol Corps."
Rattle.
"Are you speaking of the deluded sentient beings led by the Patron Sang?"
"Yes. All members of Vast Heaven's Sword Patrol Corps were moving in the direction of Gangdo, and the Blood Fragrance Society was tracking them."
"What is the problem?"
"It would be more accurate to hear it directly from Hyang-rang."
The Dark Net Great Venerable's eyes did not open. However, the left hand rolling the bone rosary stopped.
Perceiving that as permission, the Scarlet Rakshasa turned around.
"Come in."
The doors of Nacharjeon opened, and with the light, a single presence seeped in.
Hyang-rang.
One of the lower Eight Rakshasas among the Twelve Rakshasas, and the head of the Blood Fragrance Society—a Wolf-Person.
A practitioner who had accepted the energy of the Animal Realm and drawn the spirit of a wolf into himself. One who had erased the boundary between human and beast.
As if of one body with the light, Hyang-rang was already prostrating himself before the Dharma throne.
Hyang-rang does not open his mouth before the Dark Net Great Venerable. He reports only through the Scarlet Rakshasa. That was the rank and duty of this beast-like man.
The Scarlet Rakshasa looked down at Hyang-rang.
"Report."
Hyang-rang's lips, still prostrated, opened.
"It was clearly stepped on."
It meant that some of the Blood Fragrance detection points had reacted.
It signified that the Blood Fragrance laid in advance along the initial portion of the Sword Patrol Corps' movement route had been stepped on as planned, and the Sword Patrol Corps was definitely moving along the expected route.
"However, it was cut off."
"Where?"
"After a point two hundred miles north of Gangdo, not a single Blood Fragrance detection point has reacted."
"You are saying the trail of the Sword Patrol Corps was cut off from there?"
"Yes. That is correct. And yet—"
Hyang-rang raised his head.
His already yellowish pupils shone an even more vivid yellow.
"There was nothing."
The Scarlet Rakshasa's eyes narrowed.
"'Nothing'—you mean there is no flow of tracks or traces of combat remaining?"
"Yes. That is correct."
"Not even a scent?"
"None."
The Scarlet Rakshasa's jaw hardened.
Hyang-rang's nose was in a completely different dimension from any other tracker of the Blood Fragrance Society. Ordinary Fragrance Disciples detect only the special fragrance, but this Wolf-Person could smell the scent of blood, the scent of flesh, even the scent of fear. He is one who reads Blood Fragrance detection points hundreds of miles away by nose alone.
And that nose had detected nothing.
Thirty-one people had been moving, and those thirty-one people had vanished.
If combat had occurred, traces of metal should remain. If there were bodies, the smell of blood should linger. If flesh decayed, the odor should spread.
And yet.
Nothing?
"However."
Hyang-rang's report continued.
"Around the same time, one slash-and-burn village in the vicinity had been completely burned to the ground."
"Oh? You are saying a village at exactly the location the Sword Patrol Corps should have passed through was burned?"
"Yes, that is correct. And the residents of that village had all been burned and disappeared as well."
"Hmm. Anything else?"
"All the horses the Sword Patrol Corps had been riding were found in full. However……"
"However?"
"The traces of Sword Patrol Corps Leader Sang Gwan-hwi and the thirty Sword Patrol Corps members have, exactly as I mentioned before, all evaporated. Not a single trace remained."
After the report ended.
Silence fell inside Nacharjeon.
Only the human tallow candles trembled alone. The raw smell merely swelled back and forth in the darkness in response. Nothing more.
Rattle.
The bone rosary that had been still began to turn again, and only then was the silence broken.
"The Sword Patrol Corps……"
The voice of the Dark Net Great Venerable.
"Has disappeared."
The half-closed eyes opened by just the faintest margin. However, before long they closed again. With the deep wrinkles on his brow folded still deeper, a little more silence passed.
"Namu Amitabha."
The bone rosary went rattle.
"This is a fortunate thing."
The Scarlet Rakshasa raised his eyes.
"……When you say a fortunate thing—"
"Whoever it was that killed them, thirty-one sentient beings have crossed the river of life and death. What else could it be but the achievement of Buddhahood?"
Huhuhuh.
Quiet laughter filled Nacharjeon. It was not the laugh of a madman—Gwangso. It was the laugh of a seeker of truth filled with conviction. A deep, still smile, the kind that blooms in silence, worn only by one who has seen through the principles of the world.
"However."
The laughter ceased.
"You said there were no bodies."
Rattle.
"There is one who killed, yet one who also took away the bodies. That is not the achievement of Buddhahood—it is thievery."
The Scarlet Rakshasa straightened his back.
As expected, even as the Dark Net Great Venerable spoke of it as "a fortunate thing," he had not overlooked the abnormality hidden behind it.
"There is one who steals another's liberation."
The Dark Net Great Venerable's left hand, grasping the bone rosary, came to a stop.
"Hyang-rang."
The shoulders of the one prostrated on the floor tensed ever so slightly. It was rare for the Dark Net Great Venerable to call his name directly.
"Find the whereabouts of the disappeared sentient beings."
Hyang-rang's forehead pressed deeper against the stone slab.
"If there are no bodies, read from the point where the scent was cut off, once again. Whether wind or earth—traces cannot vanish completely."
"Yes, Great Venerable. I receive your command with reverence."
Just as he had appeared, Hyang-rang's presence faded away like a dying ember.
***
After Hyang-rang withdrew.
Inside Nacharjeon, only the Dark Net Great Venerable and the Scarlet Rakshasa remained.
The human tallow candles still burned low, and the seated statue of the Rakshasa Demon Lord gazed down from beyond the red smoke.
"Scarlet Rakshasa."
"Yes."
"Now that the Sword Branch Corps has been destroyed, Vast Heaven's branch sects are no better than stripped bare."
"That is correct."
The Scarlet Rakshasa calculated at once.
"The Sword Branch Corps was the backbone of the branch defense. Scattered in small unit formations to conduct inspection tours, they maintained the emergency communication network—but with simultaneous individual destruction, the communication itself has been severed. At present, Vast Heaven's branch sects are isolated, without support from the main mountain."
Rattle.
"Isolated sentient beings."
The Dark Net Great Venerable spoke with eyes closed.
"It is not a command to raise the sword."
A lowered voice.
It was not a command—it was a Dharma talk.
"It is a command to light the lamp."
The Scarlet Rakshasa bowed deeply at the waist.
"The sentient beings in this darkness are wandering, unable to cross the river of life and death."
Rattle.
The bone rosary completed one full revolution.
"Bring the remaining sentient beings of Vast Heaven, who have lost their way……to Buddhahood."
"Yes, Great Venerable. Three locations in the eastern direction, two in the southern direction. I will deploy three of the lower Eight Rakshasas. And I will appoint one of the upper Four Rakshasas as overall commander of the eastern front."
"Permitted."
The Dark Net Great Venerable only points the direction.
Open the gates of liberation. Bring them to Buddhahood. Light the lamp.
"Namu Amitabha."
And.
War was the Scarlet Rakshasa's domain.
Where to strike, who to kill, in what order to advance.
The Scarlet Rakshasa also pressed his palms together in return.
"Namu Amitabha."
Now is the time to perform the Buddhist way, using the sword as a lamp.
Until the day the entire Central Plains has returned to the Rakshasa—the great compassionate blades of these people shall not rest.