There Really Is a Jashin

Countless blurry, twisted figures, seemingly formed from pure shadow, whispered and traded...

Blood—vast amounts of blood, the blood of all kinds of living creatures—flowed into rivers and lakes...

Pain, fear, despair, hatred... all manner of extreme negative emotions served as fuel...

The stream of information came to an abrupt halt.

The black mass of energy seemed to have exhausted all the information it could transmit through that slight contact. It quickly shrank back, condensing into a ball once more and floating before Shaoyu, flickering faintly as though waiting.

Uchiha Shaoyu closed his eyes and rapidly processed the fragmented information he had just received.

A few seconds later, he opened them again, and a glimmer of realization flashed through his pupils.

He understood.

This mass of energy was not Jashin itself.

It was more like an... intermediary?

Or rather, a trading terminal left in this world by some far greater, more ancient, more indescribable existence—perhaps one that could be called Jashin?

Its core rule was simple, and evil.

Sacrifice.

Offer enough suitable sacrifices—primarily blood, along with the particular intense emotions produced alongside it, especially pain and fear—and based on the quality and quantity of the offerings, it could exchange them for corresponding blessings or abilities from the unknowable entity it was connected to.

The old priest and the others had gone in the wrong direction. They thought this mass of energy was Jashin itself, believing they could summon Jashin or have it possess someone through rituals and a specific vessel.

In reality, this was merely a trading tool. They offered the blood and pain of their sacrifices, and the mass of energy absorbed them. Then... in theory, it could exchange them for things or abilities, such as possible immortality.

Just like Hidan in the original story.

It seemed that, in the old priest's eyes, Jashin supposedly possessed the power of immortality, which was why the Hidan he created had an immortal body.

The reason none of the previous rituals had succeeded, and why a Hidan had only appeared more than a decade later, was probably because they had not offered enough blood. After all, how much blood could a mere dozen ordinary people possibly produce?

Just now, after being injured and weakened, this mass of energy had sensed Shaoyu's strength and instinctively attempted another kind of contact.

It had shown Shaoyu its rules and its purpose. Like a damaged mysterious creature with a basic instinct for survival, it was showing its instructions to a potential new user.

Looking at the energy ball in his hand, Uchiha Shaoyu felt a little tempted.

This thing was dangerous, but also... useful.

It was not an intelligent existence. It was more like a tool that followed fixed rules.

Using it would undoubtedly entail enormous risks. Contact with its evil essence could corrupt the mind, sacrifice itself violated all moral conventions, and the power gained through exchange would inevitably come with unknown costs or side effects.

But for Uchiha Shaoyu, an outlaw in desperate need of strength, who possessed the Mangekyō Sharingan, one of the highest-grade dōjutsu, and had powerful resistance to genjutsu and mental corruption...

It was far too useful.

And most importantly, the old priest and this group had managed to gather enough blood for an immortal body in just over a decade. As a ninja—a powerful ninja—wouldn't it be effortless for Uchiha Shaoyu to obtain even more blood?

His gaze swept across the surroundings.

The surviving Jashin followers were terrified out of their wits, kneeling on the ground or lying limp and unable to rise.

"What should I do with these people...?"

After considering it carefully, Shaoyu made his decision.

To cut the grass, one must pull out the roots.

Cleaning up the scene and eliminating all witnesses and potential dangers was the cleanest choice, and the one most aligned with his current interests.

His mind made up, Uchiha Shaoyu's gaze instantly sharpened like a blade.

He no longer looked at the black mass of energy, as though it no longer existed. His figure suddenly vanished from the spot.

"Pfft!" "Shhk!" "Aah—!"

The muffled sounds of blades slicing open throats and piercing hearts mingled with brief, abruptly cut-off screams, ringing out one after another through the ravine lit by ghostly green fire.

Uchiha Shaoyu moved like a phantom among the dozen or so surviving followers.

His movements were simple, efficient, and cold. Every strike claimed a life with precision.

There was no clash of ninjutsu, no fierce resistance.

These followers had long since been frightened senseless, and their strength had been spent in the earlier slaughter among themselves. Before a Kage-level powerhouse with the Mangekyō Sharingan activated, they were no different from lambs awaiting slaughter.

In less than ten breaths, the final follower clutched his spurting neck, eyes wide as he collapsed limply to the ground.

Aside from the crackling campfire, no living sound remained in the ravine. The heavy stench of blood overwhelmed the previous sweet, rotten odor.

Uchiha Shaoyu flicked the blood from his short blade and sheathed it. Very little blood had stained him, and his movements were clean and decisive.

Only then did he turn his gaze toward the little boy curled up by the edge of the pit.

The boy seemed to have been completely crushed by the successive horrors. His eyes were hollow and numb, and he showed no reaction to the killing and death around him, merely hugging his thin little body instinctively.

Should he kill him?

Shaoyu shook his head, as though warning himself.

He was not a softhearted person, but he could not kill a child who had done nothing and posed no threat to his life.

People should still have some bottom line.

Shaoyu walked over to the boy and crouched down. The boy's vacant eyes met Shaoyu's crimson, strange eyes, which held not a trace of warmth.

"Sleep."

Shaoyu's voice was calm and flat. The light bands within his left Mangekyō Sharingan slowly rotated as a powerful, delicate genjutsu silently invaded the boy's fragile consciousness.

He was not simply putting the boy to sleep. Instead, using the Mangekyō Sharingan's power, he forcibly erased all memories of tonight from the boy's mind.

From being captured, to the ritual, to Shaoyu's appearance, to the bloody slaughter... every related image was shredded by an invisible force and turned into even vaguer, completely unrelated fragments of dreams.

The process would place a certain burden on and damage the boy's mind, perhaps leaving him listless or confused for some time. But at least he would no longer remember the specifics of tonight, especially Uchiha Shaoyu's appearance and the crucial information concerning this mass of Jashin energy.

After he finished, the boy's eyelids drooped shut, and his body went limp as he fell unconscious. Shaoyu picked him up and placed him behind a relatively clean rock, far from the bloodshed.

He took a sealing scroll from his pocket and stored the mysterious ball of energy inside. This was high-end stuff, with a barrier inscribed on it that allowed it to hold objects.

With that done, Uchiha Shaoyu did not linger. He gave the sleeping boy one last look.

His figure flickered, like a drop of ink blending into the night, and he swiftly left the ravine filled with death and an eerie aura, racing toward the Songfeng Pavilion Inn.

He needed to reunite with Uchiha Mihuo, Lianhuo, and the others as soon as possible.

The Land of Hot Water was no longer safe to stay in. Konoha's pursuers were probably about to arrive. This was not a place to remain for long.