Performing as an Evil Cultist

Izuna followed Mokushō to the alley entrance, thinking he was really going to do something improper.

But as he got closer, he suddenly saw someone sneakily carrying something and heading somewhere.

The man was short, wearing a drab gray short jacket, carrying a cloth bag in his arms, and walking with hurried, light steps, glancing back as he went.

Izuna slowed her pace and glanced at Mokushō.

Mokushō also stopped, his gaze behind the fox mask following the figure as it disappeared into the depths of the alley, without saying a word.

Meanwhile, inside the residence of Bishamonten.

The mansion's courtyard was much deeper than it appeared from the outside. A wide courtyard was surrounded by a cloister on all four sides, and a huge circle was drawn in white lime on the stone slabs of the courtyard, inside which was a fancy array of Runes.

The lines of the Formation shimmered with a faint dark red hue in the sunlight, as if they had been dyed with something seeping into them.

Bishamonten stood under the corridor, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the center of the courtyard.

"Let's start with a simple practical demonstration," he said.

On the left side of the courtyard, a person covered in bandages stood there.

Bandages were wrapped from his head to his ankles, leaving only one eye and one mouth exposed. The eye was cloudy and calm, revealing no emotion. He was of medium build, standing motionless at the edge of the Formation.

Tobirama lay in the shadows of the corridor ceiling, frowning.

Who is this?

At the signal of Bishamonten, two Samurai emerged from the side corridor and dragged a person to the center of the Formation.

The person struggled, his mouth stuffed with a rag, unable to make a complete sound, only whimpers squeezed from his throat.

His hands and feet were bound with ropes, his clothes were tattered, and his face was emaciated; he looked like a homeless man who had been captured from somewhere.

Bishamonten raised his hand.

"Let's begin."

The bandaged man raised his hand and pulled a thin iron spike from his waist.

His movements were slow, as if he were performing a sacred act. He aimed the tip of the iron spike at his left arm and then plunged it in.

Blood seeped from under the bandages.

The person in the center of the Formation suddenly arched their back and let out a scream that was muffled by the cloth.

A bloody hole appeared out of nowhere on his left arm, its location and size exactly the same as the spot where the bandaged man had stabbed himself.

The bandaged man pulled out the iron spikes and stabbed them into his right leg.

The person inside the Formation suddenly lost their right leg and collapsed, blood seeping from their trouser leg and spreading out in a small patch on the ground.

Bishamonten stood under the corridor, hands clasped behind his back, explaining calmly, "The Formation connects the two people together. The injuries suffered by the caster will be reflected exactly in the recipient."

The bandaged man stabbed himself again, this time into his shoulder.

The man screamed and rolled on the ground, the blood from his shoulder staining the stone slab beneath him red.

The bandaged man repeatedly stabbed himself, each cut landing in a different spot: his arm, thigh, ribs, and back.

With each stab, the person inside the Formation would twitch, their screams growing weaker and weaker.

Finally, the bandaged man gripped the thorn, aimed it at his own chest, and plunged it in.

The person inside the Formation suddenly stiffened, and a mouthful of blood gushed out, staining the cloth stuffed in their mouth red.

His eyes widened, his pupils dilated instantly, and then he went limp and remained motionless.

The bandaged man's body swayed at the same time, his knees bent, and he slowly knelt down. The eye that had burned with pure faith slowly went out.

Two people died at the same time.

Blood spread from the center of the Formation, seeping into the cracks of the stone slabs, mixing with the dark red Runes, making it impossible to distinguish which lines were carved and which were blood.

Tobirama lay on the veranda ceiling, his stomach churning.

He had seen many ways to die, and he had seen the most disgusting and cruel corpses. He even studied how to use living people to summon the dead to use as henchmen.

But this method of torturing someone to death still made him feel nauseous.

"This is the power that the most faithful believer of the Evil God can obtain," Bishamonten promoted to the military representatives from the side. "Although this believer has died, this is not the true blessing of the Evil God. If the faith is deep enough, the believer will obtain immortality."

"At that time, whoever you wish to kill, simply draw this Formation on the ground where they pass, and our followers will be able to kill them easily without being detected."

The Military Advisors sitting in the corridor were stunned by the scene before them, but some of them quickly recovered.

The representative from the Land of Water spoke first, "Isn't this just witchcraft?"

The representative from the Land of Lightning scoffed, "If it's a one-on-one situation, and your own people might die, who would believe in some Evil God? This kind of thing wouldn't even fool a homeless person on the street."

The advisors nodded in agreement, their expressions shifting from initial shock to indifference.

Some people even started straightening their sleeves, as if preparing to get up and leave.

Bishamonten laughed.

He stood under the corridor, his hands behind his back, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"You're all right," he said, his tone very gentle, "It really isn't very useful in a one-on-one situation."

He paused, raised his hand, and pointed to the Formation.

"But have you all considered what if the object of the Sacrifice wasn't just one person?"

The advisors fell silent for a moment.

Bishamonten turned his head, his gaze sweeping over every face.

"What if the person who Sacrifice," he said, "Was one of the people who participated in the entire Summer Festival?"

Tobirama's pupils suddenly contracted.

"A person who Sacrifice an entire Summer Festival?!"

"This..."

"Since they can do something like that..."

Bishamonten said triumphantly, "The Evil God said that the kingdom of God is coming soon, but it despises the sins of the Old World, therefore the old world must be cleansed."

"Those three thousand-odd people from the Summer Festival are the ones we will be exorcising in this time." Bishamonten devoutly grasped the silver necklace at his chest. "Their deaths are not tragic; the Evil God will surely cleanse their souls in the Yomi, bringing Seimei to this world."

The Military Advisors exchanged bewildered glances.

Isn't this just about eliminating dissidents? Does putting on a religious veneer make them appear Seimei? How ridiculous.

However, they are not entirely uninterested in this technology.

If the "true blessing" he spoke of truly exists, wouldn't that mean one could obtain a voodoo doll that could be kept at home forever and never die?

If they dislike someone, they simply draw Formation on that person's likely path. Once that person steps into the Formation, they can silently torture or even kill them.

But... why would Bishamonten tell them about such a good thing?

If he's really that capable, why doesn't he just hire someone like that himself?

"To be honest," said Bishamonten, "I wish to make a deal with you all."

The Military Advisors exchanged a glance.

The representative from the Land of Water spoke first, "What kind of deal?"

Bishamonten stood up, walked out from under the corridor, and stood at the edge of the courtyard.

The bloodstains were not yet completely dry, and they gleamed a dark reddish light in the sunlight.

"The world is bound to descend into chaos," he said. "You all know this. The Land of Lightning and the Land of Water are already mobilizing troops, the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth are observing, and the Land of Fire, while paying lip service to peace, is also busy with its own operations."

"To secure victory, we must utilize the power of the Ninjas."

The representative from the Land of Lightning snorted, seemingly about to say something, but was stopped by Bishamonten raising his hand.

I know what you're all thinking.

"The war began precisely to restrain those Ninjas. They're too strong, so strong it keeps us up at night. But the problem is, once the fighting starts, the status of Ninjas will inevitably rise to a level we don't want to see."

He turned around and faced the advisors.

"Your armies need Ninjas to charge into battle, to gather Ninja, and to carry out shady missions. The more you rely on them, the more power they wield. "Ninja

"Lord of the Land of Lightning, everyone can see what's happening in your country right now. You've done a clean and efficient job of preventing Ninjas from gaining power through marriage alliances, but will that really prevent them from getting that position?"

"Not necessarily," Bishamonten said slowly. "Those Ninjas aren't stupid. They still listen to us only because they're used to our orders and the way we get paid for carrying out missions."

"But do you think you can still trample them underfoot like this after the war ends?"

The courtyard fell silent, and everyone wore expressions of apprehension or anger.

Seeing their reaction, Bishamonten smiled slightly.

"So I've been racking my brains," he said, his tone almost piously solemn, "How to completely restrain the Ninjas and prevent them from acting recklessly."

He raised his hand and grasped the silver necklace on his chest. The silver ornament shimmered slightly in the sunlight, Tobirama to squint.

"So I found the Evil God."

The representative from the Land of Wind raised his head, his gaze sharpening. "You mean..."

Bishamonten loosened his necklace and opened his arms, as if embracing something unseen.

"That's right," he said, each word ringing clearly in everyone's ears, "I want those Ninjas... to disappear from this world completely!"

In the shadows of the veranda, Tobirama let out a silent, cold laugh.

Dream on.

His gaze shifted from Bishamonten's face to the Military Advisors.

None of these people showed any surprise.

All the talk of "Evil Gods " and "Sacrifices " is just a facade. The real deal has always been the same: to seize that so-called power, to put oneself above everyone else, to make everyone listen to him, work for his benefit, and support him.

That's so grand and dignified.

If anyone's going to disappear, it'll be you power-hungry good-for-nothings who disappear first.

What kind of idiot is this? How dare he try to teach me a lesson?

Tobirama looked at the two people lying in a pool of blood.

Although he didn't know the specific way this ability was activated, he had studied similar topics.

Those spells that involve human life and Links usually require the user to pay a price the moment the Link is established.

The Impure World Reincarnation requires one life for another, Reaper Death Seal requires the caster to be swallowed into the belly of the Grim Reaper.

The Link between Izuna and Mokushō doesn't seem to have required Izuna to pay anything, but it also contains Contract that makes people uneasy.

If Shikigami) develops negative emotions, its master will be injured.

Mokushō's emotions were very stable. Tobirama could tell that even though he was hiding a lot, he was a truly loyal Shikigami.

He didn't use his emotions to influence Izuna or blackmail them into not asking him questions. On the contrary, he said everything he could, and appropriately reminded them to stop when they couldn't say something.

But it was precisely because of his loyalty that the sudden attack on Izuna left such a deep impression.

It was astonishing that someone like Izuna could curl up in pain, simply because he remembered something ominous.

That means if Mokushō suffers some irreparable trauma, Izuna will definitely not fare well; he won't die, but he also won't be able to escape unscathed.

Therefore, the current situation will inevitably lead to a similar outcome.

The so-called "real blessing" is nothing but a facade.

It is impossible for the other party to die without suffering any harm to oneself.

It's also impossible for someone to Link with you simply by drawing a circle.

Tobirama was pondering this, a change suddenly occurred in the courtyard.

Bishamonten clapped his hands.

Two Samurai emerged from the shadows of the side corridor and dragged the two corpses away from the courtyard, one on each side. The blood on the corpses left two dark red drag marks on the ground, stretching all the way to the end of the corridor.

Bishamonten faced his Military Advisors, his smile even brighter than before.

"Gentlemen, the demonstration is over," he said. "Now, let's talk about specific collaborations."

The representative from the Land of Water picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said in a nonchalant tone, "Bishamonten, you just said you wanted Ninjas to disappear from this world. That's easy to say. But do you even know how many Ninjas there are?"

"Of course I know," Bishamonten nodded. "So this matter cannot be rushed. The blessing of the Evil God takes time, and our preparations also need time."

The representative from the Land of Lightning interjected, "What preparations are you referring to?"

"Blood."

"Blood?"

"Only by obtaining their blood can we deliver the Heavenly Punishment."

Tobirama raised an eyebrow at the top of the corridor. Oh, so he's already stated his conditions.

But blood...

The representative from the Land of Water frowned. "Blood? Isn't that very difficult to obtain?"

The representative from the Land of Lightning also frowned, tapping his fingers twice on his knee. "Any injury will definitely be noticed! Pain will certainly alert people."

Tobirama thought to himself, "That's right. To accomplish this without any disturbance is a complete pipe dream."

Whether they were Ninjas or Samurai, anyone with a certain status was extremely sensitive to their physical condition.

A wound of unknown origin is enough to make anyone wary.

Moreover, judging from the demonstration just now, to unleash the Heavenly Punishment, someone would need to give up their life first.

Even Cultist wouldn't have such an idiot.

By revealing this matter in front of a room full of people, Bishamonten was practically cutting off his own escape route.

Tobirama withdrew his gaze and turned it back to Bishamonten.

He wanted to see how this person would respond.