Tracks Revealed

In the Land of Hot Water, in a small village.

Taiichi returned the processed paper scraps to the old man, feigning curiosity, and asked, "Do you know where these propaganda materials came from? Or, is there anyone in town who particularly worships this 'Evil God'?"

The old man shook his head. "I don't know where they came from; they just drift everywhere in the wind. As for who believes them—I haven't heard of anyone publishing them publicly, but—"

He glanced around, then lowered his voice, "That lazy, bald-headed Momotaro from the east end of town has been acting all mysterious lately, muttering crazy things about immortality and sacrifice—"

Taiichi understood. He thanked the old man and turned to walk towards the east of the town.

Deep in a dilapidated alley filled with clutter, Taiichi found his target. It was a middle-aged man, dressed in rags and with scabies on his head, muttering incantations to an Evil God symbol he had drawn himself in the corner of the wall, his expression fanatical and dazed.

"Immortal life—my lord—offer your soul—and you will never die—hehehe—"

Taiichi appeared silently behind him, his fingers flashing as he touched the back of Momotaro's neck. Momotaro's body stiffened, and then his eyes glazed over.

Genjutsu: Mind Reading!

Taiichi's spiritual power instantly invaded the opponent's chaotic consciousness.

Countless fragmented and frenzied images flooded his mind: flickering blood-red candlelight, twisted statues, frenzied chanting, immortal bodies, and—a cultist in a grey robe, and the imminent arrival of Evil God.

Evil God has descended? He wondered if it was real or not. His interest grew even stronger.

Immortality was merely an illusion. What truly stirred his soul was that so-called Evil God!

Deity who survived from the ancient times of the Ninja World! One of the true extraordinary rulers of this land before the arrival of Kaguya Otsutsuki!

What is their essence?

Where does power come from?

How did it degenerate into such a bloody and twisted state?

The thirst for knowledge, the exploration of the source of power, and the vigilance against potential threats made Taiichi's blood boil.

But first and foremost, he needed to seize control of this Jashin Cult, and even the Evil God that might descend.

Deep in the mountains of northeastern Land of Hot Water lies the lair of the Jashin Cult.

The cave was filled with an overwhelming stench of blood and evil, and the candlelight flickered in the damp, cold air, illuminating the twisted, grotesque Evil God on the walls, making them appear as if demons were dancing wildly in hell.

The layers of congealed dark red blood on the altar told the story of countless lives lost.

The crematorium's opening was dark and the fire had gone out, but the lingering smell of burnt flesh still stubbornly wafted into my nostrils.

The cult leader, "Blood Crow," sat on his throne, his face, covered by a wooden mask with raven patterns, revealing no expression. Only his scarlet eyes gleamed with a violent intensity and a hint of barely perceptible anxiety in the darkness.

He had just ended another futile attempt at communication. The few remaining "sacrifices" on the altar lay limp on the ground like rag dolls, their eyes vacant, their breaths weak, and they had exhausted even the strength to let out a terrified howl.

"Useless! All of you are useless!" Blood Crow's voice, filled with barely suppressed rage, echoed through the silent cave.

"This fear, this remnant of the soul, is not even enough to warrant a glance from my lord!"

The gray-robed cultists standing below were terrified, their bodies trembling like leaves, fearing the cult leader's wrath would fall upon them.

Just then, a cultist responsible for guarding the sacrificial storehouse rushed in, stumbling and falling beneath the altar, his voice trembling. "Master! The storehouse is empty! The last few... we just used them all!"

"What!" Blood Crow Raven suddenly stood up from his throne, his scarlet robes billowing without wind, and a suffocatingly violent aura instantly filled the entire cavern.

The believer was so pressured by an invisible force that he almost collapsed to the ground, not daring to lift his head.

"Useless! A bunch of useless trash!" The Blood Crow's roar shook the cave ceiling, causing rubble to fall. "I'll tell you to be more careful with your resources!"

Use them sparingly! Are you eating the offerings as your main meal?!

"Master—please calm your anger!" another slightly older follower mustered his courage and said in a trembling voice, "It's—it's because the previous large-scale communication ceremonies were too taxing, and coupled with the time constraints, we didn't have much in reserve to begin with, so—"

The face beneath the Blood Crow mask was contorted, and his chest heaved violently.

It was all Taichi Matsushita completely disrupted his rhythm, forcing him to halt all capture operations.

Glancing at the few remaining offerings on the altar, these "dregs" of residue were utterly worthless.

With a flick of his sleeve, he immediately sent cultists forward to drag away the sacrificial offerings, only to be met with the rekindling of the crematorium.

"Without new sacrifices, our Lord will not respond! Without our Lord's grace, how can we establish the Undead Legion?" Blood Crow's voice was filled with madness and resentment.

After a long silence, the frenzied red light in Blood Crow's eyes subsided slightly, replaced by a resolute expression. He slowly sat back on his throne, his voice as cold as the ice of the deepest hell: "Pass down the order—"

All the believers pricked up their ears.

"Select the most elite and cleanest team." Blood Crow spoke slowly and deliberately, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Go to the Northern Front, to Frost Moon Village, which is furthest from the Capital of Hot Water and closest to the border." It's a remote place, and news travels slowly, so even if you disappear for a day or two, it won't immediately attract attention.

Remember, be quick, be clean, be discreet. Capture fifty people and retreat immediately! Absolutely no complications are allowed! Anyone who exposes their whereabouts and ruins my grand plan—"

He paused, his scarlet eyes sweeping over each cultist below, his gaze like a sharp blade, sending chills down everyone's spine.

"I will sacrifice him, along with his entire family, to my Lord! Let their souls wail in eternal torment!"

"Yes, Master!" The followers felt as if they had been granted a pardon, yet were also terrified, and scrambled out to carry out the order.

Meanwhile, deep within the Daimyo's Mansion of Capital of Hot Water, in the secret study of the Eldest Young Master.

The lights were deliberately dimmed, and the heavy curtains blocked out all outside prying eyes.

An unremarkable middle-aged man dressed in ordinary servant's clothes was reporting the top-secret information he had received.

"My lord, urgent news has just arrived from Frost Moon Village on the northwestern border through secret channels." The middle-aged man's voice was extremely low, yet every word was clear.

"The village's informants, who were responsible for relaying messages, discovered suspicious, unidentified figures operating in the mountains outside the village before nightfall. Their movements were furtive, their numbers were unknown, but they were definitely not ordinary bandits or travelers."

After issuing the alert according to the emergency plan, he completely lost contact, and we haven't had any updates on the village since.

The Eldest Young Master's heart skipped a beat, and his fingers instinctively gripped the edge of the table. "Frost Moon Village —located in a remote area—it must be them, they couldn't hold back any longer!"

His eyes flashed with a sharp light. "When was the message sent? How long have we been out of contact?"

"The warning signal for the hidden mole was issued yesterday evening. We left to report as soon as we received the message," the middle-aged man replied quickly. "Judging from the timeline, if it really was that group that made their move, it's probably already—it's already begun."

"Damn it!" the Eldest Young Master cursed under his breath, abruptly standing up and pacing in the cramped space. "What about Taiichi— "

"Your Highness, rest assured, the message has been sent through the pre-established emergency contact method, using the special Chakra mark left by Taiichi," the middle-aged man said confidently. "However, we cannot be certain whether Taiichi will be able to make it in time."

The Eldest Young Master took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Alright! As long as the message gets out, we'll see what Taiichi is capable of. The 'White Reaper' will surely not disappoint us."

"Yes!" The mole's figure disappeared into the shadows like a ghost.

Inside the study, the Eldest Young Master stood alone in the darkness, gazing out the window at the hazy nightscape of Capital of Hot Water. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. Finally, the fish couldn't resist any longer and took the bait!

On the northwestern border of the Land of Hot Water, the night was as black as ink, so thick it seemed impossible to dissolve.

The small village of Frostmoon is currently immersed in a deep sleep. The few scattered lights have long been extinguished, and only the occasional cry of an owl breaks the silence of the mountain forest.

Unbeknownst to the villagers, a deadly shadow was creeping out from the dark forest outside the village.

A group of about twenty shadowy figures, like phantoms blending into the night, silently approached the outskirts of the village.

They were dressed in uniform dark gray outfits, their faces covered with masks emblazoned with twisted triangular symbols, their eyes gleaming with a fanatical mix of cruelty and numbness. They were the elite hunting team Jashin Cult.

The leader made a gesture, and the group immediately split into several teams, slithering into the narrow alleys of the village like venomous snakes.

The operation began.

There were no shouts of killing, no warnings.

The well-trained cultists, like the most skilled catchers, used blowguns soaked in paralyzing poison and Potent sedatives, in conjunction with...

With lightning speed, he precisely broke open the doors and windows of each villager's house.

The men, women, and children, fast asleep, didn't even have time to scream before being stuffed into sacks and roughly dragged out while still unconscious.

Occasionally, some alert villagers would attempt to resist, but they were met with short blades and merciless blows from the cultists, instantly falling silent and being discarded in a corner like tattered sacks.

The faint smell of blood began to permeate the cool night air.

Panic spread silently like a plague in the stillness. The villagers who were awakened only had time to utter a short scream before their mouths were gagged and they were dragged into the darkness.

The entire Frost Moon Village is being rapidly enveloped and devoured by a giant, malicious net.

The followers moved swiftly and efficiently, clearly having mastered the procedure.

There was no pity in their eyes, only the completion of the task and the calculation of the number of "sacrifices".

High in the sky, dozens of miles away from Frost Moon Village.

A fierce gale swept past, ruffling the wisps of hair on Taiichi's forehead. His Chakra Perception spread outwards like flowing water.

In the pitch-black night, even he could only rely on his senses to determine whether he had flown over any particular place.

Sudden!

A faint yet strangely familiar evil Chakra fluctuation, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, was clearly reflected on his sensory "radar"!

Taiichi's eyes narrowed sharply, instantly locking onto the source of the fluctuations— Frost Moon Village!

"Found it! Luckily, we're not too late!"

The chilling voice dissipated in the howling wind. Without the slightest hesitation, the Chakra wings on his back suddenly flapped, tearing the air apart with a piercing shriek!

Taiichi's figure transformed into a blue lightning bolt that tore through the night sky, hurtling headlong towards Frost Moon Village! The clouds rushed past beneath his feet, and the earth rapidly drew closer in his vision.

Frost Moon Village.

The hunting operation was nearing its end. Most of the villagers had been gathered in the threshing ground in the center of the village, bound with rough ropes, their mouths gagged, their eyes filled with desperate tears and helpless fear.

The suppressed sobs of children, the desperate trembling of women, and the angry yet powerless struggles of men create a scene of hell on earth.

Dozens of sacks were piled up to one side, containing villagers who were either unconscious or dead. Blood seeped from the sacks, a stark contrast even in the night.

The cult leader in charge of the headcount gestured to the team leader. "Boss, sixty-two alive, three dead, that's too many, let's move out?"

The cult leader surveyed the group, nodded in satisfaction, a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes. He was about to order a retreat—

"Call out!"

A piercing sound of something cutting through the air grew louder as it approached, moving at an extremely fast speed.

Before the words had even faded, an indescribable, terrifying pressure, like a tangible mountain, crashed down. All sound on the threshing floor fell silent instantly; the air seemed to freeze!

All the Jashin Cult, including the leader, felt as if their hearts were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand. Their breaths stopped abruptly, and a fear from the depths of their souls seized them instantly! They looked up in utter horror.

A figure radiating a deep blue light appeared, hovering above the threshing ground like a god descending to earth.

The cold Gekko outlined his young yet incredibly majestic features, and the wings on his back, illuminated by the Gekko, appeared so holy at this moment. The person who came was none other than Taichi Matsushita!

"The Jashin Cult?" Taiichi's icy voice, like ice striking the ground, clearly reached the ears of every follower, sending them plummeting into an ice cave. "This ends here."

"It's him—it's the White Reaper! He didn't leave!" The leader of the cult members roared in terror, shattering the deathly silence. "Kill him! Quickly! We can't let him disrupt the ritual!"

The instinct for survival and the fanaticism for the doctrine instantly overwhelmed the fear.

More than twenty elite followers let out beast-like roars, unleashing their Chakra without reservation!

Fearless, they attacked Taiichi from all directions in the air, unleashing a barrage of poisoned Kunai, Shuriken, and chains. Several others even Hand Seals, releasing Fireball and Water Arrow!

Faced with this overwhelming attack, Taiichi's eyes remained unwavering.

"Overestimating oneself."

He didn't even Hand Seals gesture.

With a slight flap of the wings on his back, a violent gust of wind formed around him, with countless Wind Blade swirling within, tracing deadly arcs as they hurtled downwards.

Wind Style: Thousand Face Wind Kill!

Puff puff puff puff.

The dense cutting sound was like the whisper of Death God. The Ninja Tool and hidden weapons that shot towards them were cut into a sky full of iron filings the moment they made contact with the Wind Blade field!

The Fireball was blown away and extinguished! The Water Arrow was cut and shattered!

Those believers who rushed forward were subjected to the most brutal baptism!

Armor and clothing were easily torn apart like paper; flesh was as fragile as tofu in the face of the absolutely sharp Wind Blade.

Severed limbs mixed with scalding blood were scattered like harvested wheat! A shrill, inhuman scream instantly echoed through the night sky!

Just one breath!

Of the more than twenty elite members of the Jashin Cult, only a few who were positioned at the back and reacted a little faster managed to barely assume a defensive stance against the Wind Blade and their bodies; the rest were either severed from their limbs or seriously injured and fell to the ground.

More than two-thirds of the remaining people were directly dismembered and cut into a rain of blood and flesh amidst the raging Wind Blade storm.

The overwhelming, nauseating stench of blood instantly overwhelmed the previous atmosphere of fear.

The few surviving cultists, including the leader, collapsed like terrified quails amidst pools of blood and mangled flesh, staring at the demonic figure in the air, their eyes filled with boundless fear and despair.

Their pride in their strength is utterly laughable in the face of such an overwhelming disparity in power!

The brutality that had just been inflicted on Civilian was now being subjected to the same act.