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墨書 Inktalez
Blood flowed like a river, resembling a purgatory. The television station in Anjing broadcasted this apocalyptic scene, while the Eastern Prime Minister wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing at the ornate words prepared on his speech. At this moment, those in power needed to calm the panic among the masses.
Suddenly, he answered a phone call, and his expression shifted from grim to hysterical. Minutes later, the Eastern Prime Minister tore up the speech in his hands, his eyes blazing crimson as he pressed his face against the screen, shouting for the culprit to be sent to the gallows and executed.
The staff behind him rushed forward to cover his mouth; things had already reached a dire state, but it only got worse—his Prime Minister had gone mad. He had just learned that his daughter had died at home for no apparent reason.
Flesh burst open, as if it had been subjected to a nano-bomb. Not even a whole corpse remained.
He broke free from the restraints of those around him in front of the camera, crying out loudly and cursing the instigator of this calamity.
On the Watchtower, Aruya Douman received the news. He wore a helpless expression and said, "It seems we need to find a new puppet; that bastard is nothing but a fool. Who was it that recommended him for Prime Minister in the first place? After this disaster is over, we’ll execute them together!"
Kamo Gongen's thin lips curled into a smile; this Prime Minister was no ordinary man—he was a direct descendant of Abe Seimei!
"Oh!" Aruya Douman chuckled, realizing this fact. He took out a strangely smiling Geisha Doll from his sleeve and wore a sincere smile as he said, "Kami-sama, please help me seize the bloodthirsty energy!"
Hee hee hee.
The Geisha Doll's smile grew even more eerie as its pupils emitted two purple halos. The entire city of Anjing was enveloped by a massive purple bubble, with countless purple tentacles extending from its surface, capturing clouds of blood mist that exploded like fireworks.
This is the Great Demon of the traditional concept of Tsukumogami from Eastern Japan. Tsukumogami refers to objects that have been neglected, absorbing the essence of heaven and earth, accumulating grudges or sensing Buddhist nature and spiritual power, thus becoming spirit-like monsters. This concept is similar to the Chinese belief that objects gain essence over time.
The legend of Tsukumogami states that objects, when transformed, become spirits that deceive human hearts, and people refer to them as Tsukumogami.
In a dreamlike haze, the crimson mist of blood was fiercely contended by purple tendrils, plunging deep into the underground of the Watchtower. No one could see that buried deep within the Watchtower was a colossal demon's body. It was as large as a small mountain, with eight ferocious heads and a tail that shimmered with sharp white light.
The symbols on the surface of the Watchtower lit up. The ground cracked open, and blood surged forth. The towering Eight-Headed Serpent broke through the fissure in the earth, spraying blood mixed with countless bones.
The old man floated out from the top of the Watchtower, his toes lightly touching the head of the serpent while holding a Geisha Doll in his hand.
In the vast purple-black mist, Zuo Ci opened his pitch-black pupils devoid of any white, a smile creeping onto his lips. Was there a new pet appearing? Yamata no Orochi?
Rising! Zuo Ci raised his finger to his chest, and the Wan Hun Fan billowed in the wind, floating in mid-air with a rustling sound.
From within banners emerged armored Dragon Knights, covered in rotting scales of Ao Yin, along with countless Heroic Spirits.
The true Yurei Yoru.
A grayish-white Netherfire erupted, as a tide of ghostly spirits surged forth, roaring through the thick mist.
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