Not long after, the ritual began.
The priest dipped his fingers into the thick, dark blood pooled nearby and began to draw on the ground with solemn precision.
Stroke by stroke, a massive circle took shape—three meters in diameter, glowing faintly under the dim light of the cavern.
Within the circle, he carefully inscribed an inverted triangle.
The moment the final line was completed, the entire formation seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive.
It was unmistakable.
The sacred—and terrifying—curse formation of the Jashin Cult.
The priest rose to his feet and walked briskly toward a luxurious carriage stationed at the edge of the cavern.
He bowed deeply.
"Lord Daimyo," he said respectfully, "the time is nearly upon us. Tonight is a Blood Moon—a rare phenomenon that occurs only once every ten years."
His voice trembled with excitement.
"The last time such a night occurred… Hidan obtained his immortal body."
The Daimyo's eyes flickered with greed.
"Is that so…"
The priest gestured toward the center of the formation.
"Please, my lord. Sit here."
The Daimyo stepped forward without hesitation and took his place at the heart of the ritual circle.
As he sat cross-legged, he frowned slightly.
"This looks different from before," he said. "Why wasn't it like this during the previous attempts?"
The priest smiled faintly.
"This… is knowledge recovered from the ruins of our original headquarters," he explained. "The reason for our past failures was precisely because this step was missing."
Hearing this, the Daimyo nodded in satisfaction.
Without further question, he removed his robes.
The priest immediately began to inscribe incantations across his body using blood.
Strange symbols covered his chest, arms, and back—each one pulsing faintly as if imbued with a sinister will.
Dong… Dong…
A deep, resonant bell rang through the cavern.
Each strike seemed to echo directly within the hearts of those present.
The atmosphere grew heavy.
Oppressive.
Everyone fell silent.
All eyes turned toward the center of the formation.
The moment had come.
Yet…
Neither the Daimyo nor his guards noticed something strange.
The Jashin cultists had begun to move.
Slowly.
Quietly.
They closed in.
Their expressions twisted with barely concealed killing intent.
At the center of the formation, the Daimyo pressed his palms together and began chanting the Jashin Scripture under the priest's guidance.
His voice trembled—not with fear, but with anticipation.
Immortality.
It was within reach.
"Heh… heh…"
A strange sound interrupted the ritual.
The Daimyo froze.
His voice caught in his throat.
A look of confusion—and then horror—spread across his face.
Slowly…
He lowered his head.
A pitch-black spear had pierced straight through his chest.
It emerged from his back, slick with blood.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Then—
Chaos erupted.
The cultists attacked.
Blades flashed.
Blood sprayed.
The Daimyo's guards were caught completely off guard. Before they could react, several of them were already cut down.
Panic spread.
Those who survived tried to draw their weapons and fight back, but it was too late.
They were outnumbered.
Outmatched.
One by one, they fell.
Within moments—
The cavern became a slaughterhouse.
The priest stood at the edge of the formation, watching coldly as the Daimyo struggled to cling to life.
A sneer curled across his lips.
"The reason our previous attempts failed…" he said slowly, "was not only because the quantity of blood was insufficient."
He stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with madness.
"It was because the quality of the blood was too low."
He leaned closer to the dying Daimyo.
"How could the blood of mere commoners satisfy Lord Jashin?" he whispered. "But you…"
A cruel smile spread across his face.
"…your blood will be exquisite."
The priest turned away.
He walked to the edge of the formation and dropped to his knees.
Raising both arms toward the sky, he shouted with fervent madness:
"Great Jashin!"
"With the blood of thousands as sacrifice, and this corrupted world as offering—"
"I implore you!"
"Open your eyes!"
"Descend upon this land!"
His voice echoed wildly through the cavern.
The other cultists followed suit, kneeling and chanting with fanatical devotion.
The air changed.
It grew cold.
Heavy.
As if something unseen had begun to press down upon the world itself.
The formation reacted.
The circle and inverted triangle began to glow.
At first, the light was faint—
Then it intensified.
A deep crimson radiance spread outward, illuminating the cavern in blood-red light.
The blood pool nearby began to churn violently.
As if pulled by an invisible force, the blood surged toward the center of the formation.
Faster.
Faster.
The surface twisted into a spiraling vortex.
Within seconds—
The entire pool was drained.
All of it flowed into the core of the ritual.
BOOM!
The formation flared.
Blinding crimson light shot upward.
The incantations burned like flames.
Then—
A rift appeared.
From within it, a thick mass of black mist surged outward.
It twisted and coiled in the air, like a living entity.
The cultists erupted into cheers.
"We succeeded!"
"Lord Jashin has answered us!"
Their voices trembled with ecstasy.
Some of them began to bow repeatedly, smashing their heads against the ground in worship.
Outside the cave—
Perched atop a tree branch—
Aoki Yoru watched everything unfold.
His expression was frozen in shock.
"…I actually encountered it…"
Even he hadn't expected this.
The true manifestation of Jashin.
Without hesitation, he formed hand seals.
Poof! Poof! Poof!
Six Shadow Clones appeared beside him.
They exchanged silent nods.
Then—
They moved.
Each clone slipped quietly toward the cave entrance, blending into the shadows.
Meanwhile, Aoki Yoru slowly drew Yerun.
He focused.
Natural energy gathered around the blade, wrapping it in an invisible aura.
Inside the cave—
The black mist began to stabilize.
Its swirling slowed.
Gradually—
A shape emerged.
A translucent figure.
Its form was slender and indistinct, neither fully solid nor entirely dispersed.
It resembled a spirit.
A being that existed somewhere between reality and illusion.
Around it drifted a crimson mist.
The aura it emitted was suffocating.
Deathly.
Ancient.
The priest's eyes widened in reverence.
He raised his arms high and shouted:
"Great Lord Jashin!"
"I am your most devout servant!"
"I beg you—grant us your blessing!"
"Bestow upon us immortal bodies, so we may serve you forever!"
The other cultists echoed his plea.
"Lord Jashin, grant us immortality!"
The entity moved.
The crimson mist surrounding it drifted outward.
It flowed into the bodies of the cultists.
The priest alone received a significantly larger portion.
Instantly—
They felt it.
Power.
Unimaginable power surged through their veins.
Their wounds began to heal.
The cuts on their skin closed.
The bruises vanished.
Even the injuries from their earlier prostrations disappeared.
They felt no pain.
Only… exhilaration.
"Hahaha!"
"I've done it!"
"I'm immortal!"
The priest burst into manic laughter.
Grabbing a spear, he drove it straight into his own chest.
The blade pierced through him completely.
Blood flowed.
But he didn't die.
Instead—
He laughed even harder.
"Success! Finally!"
His expression twisted into something grotesque.
"I brought Hidan into the cult… and yet he betrayed me after gaining immortality!"
"He destroyed everything!"
"This time… I'll kill him!"
He yanked the spear out.
Blood splattered.
But he didn't care.
In fact—
The pain only made him more excited.
Then—
Everything changed.
"AAAAAHHH!"
Screams filled the cavern.
One by one, the cultists collapsed.
Their bodies began to swell.
Their skin stretched unnaturally.
They writhed on the ground, howling in agony.
The priest froze.
Confusion replaced his madness.
"L-Lord Jashin… what is happening…?"
Before he could finish—
He clutched his throat.
His body began to swell as well.
He fell to the ground, writhing in unbearable pain.
Outside—
Aoki Yoru's eyes widened.
"They're not going to survive…"
Through his perception, he could see everything.
Not just their outer bodies—
But their insides.
Their blood vessels.
Their organs.
Their nerves.
All of them were expanding violently.
Cracks appeared.
Their blood boiled.
"This is worse than death by a thousand cuts…" Aoki Yoru muttered.
"That kind of death happens gradually."
"But this…"
"…is destruction from the inside out—all at once."
The screams gradually weakened.
Then—
Stopped.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
One after another—
The bodies exploded.
Turning into clouds of blood mist.
The priest was the last.
His body had swollen into a grotesque sphere.
His face was frozen in disbelief.
And hatred.
He stared at Jashin's phantom—
As if demanding an answer.
Bang.
He exploded.
Silence.
The cavern was empty.
No one remained alive.
Only blood mist lingered in the air.
At the center of the formation—
Jashin's figure flickered.
It absorbed the remaining blood mist.
Then—
It began to fade.
As if preparing to leave.
At that moment—
A change occurred.
Five attacks streaked through the air—
Heading straight for Jashin.
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