Northern Jambudvipa, Guyeting.
A brand-new temple had been built amid winding streams and maple woods, in a land golden with late autumn.
Red overhanging roofs, yellow pillars.
Carved dragons and painted phoenixes, vermilion gates.
Majestic stone statues of divine beasts stood before the entrance; farther inside, divine statues with expressions both wrathful and compassionate held stone whips, their arms raised to strike.
Farther in, outside the inner hall, stood an enormous incense cauldron carved with nine coiling dragons, their claws bared and their bearing lifelike.
This incense cauldron, fully the size of a doorway, was now packed with incense, with barely a gap left.
There were no fewer than seven cauldrons this large in the Shrine, and every one was the same.
Incense smoke drifted upward amid the ceaseless clamor of voices.
Countless wishes converged in that clamor.
Bells rang clear in the main hall.
The entire sprawling Shrine was packed with worshippers holding incense.
Falling incense ash left patches of scorching heat, yet even though there was clearly no room to reach into the incense cauldrons, worshippers still braved the mass of burning incense to place their wishes within.
The Main Hall's doors stood wide open. The Divine Statue presiding on high had a fierce face and downward-slanting eyes, wore exquisitely painted, imposing Battle Armor, and stood holding a Long Sword.
At first glance, it looked human, but closer examination revealed that it only seemed to resemble one.
Beside the Divine Statue.
A kindly-faced old man in plain hemp clothes held a ladle in his rather thin, withered hand. He stood before a great scarlet pot, from which a faint bloody odor rose, enough to make one vaguely nauseous.
"Let incense stand firm, let hearts be sincere." The old man spoke with great feeling and lilting intonation, sounding strangely