Chapter 35

The boulder, having realized its identity had been exposed, ceased pretending to be an ordinary rock and began to emit divine power.

With too much power emanating, it began to materialize, evoking bright light that gradually illuminated the main hall of the shrine. This light grew brighter, eventually gathering to form a shape.

Finally, it formed the great shape of a light-composed dog.

Its name was Mukuri Kokuri no Inugami.

A deity venerated by the Saigo Clan for generations, it was a cowardly existence that had, without hesitation, hidden itself to save its own skin upon sensing Jinseong’s presence.

“Mukuri Kokuri no Inugami, Mukuri Kokuri no Inugami, Mukuri Kokuri no Inugami.”

Jinseong, seeing it, muttered its divine body’s name three times.

“Truly, you take a long time to name. But from the mere use of your title, fleeing without a fight and hiding your own body, I now understand why you’re afraid of me and unable to rend my throat.”

[ Gurrr… ]

“Although I anticipated obtaining much, how extraordinarily fortunate from the start!”

Jinseong burst into laughter and spoke.

“Mukuri-Kokuri’s Divine Dog, the Watchdog brought by Mukuri Kokuri. A pitiful beast that has forgotten the hunter’s duty because of countless years spent indulging in belief, now reduced to a dog that, out of instinct, refrains from harming its master’s blood.”

Past.

Not decades, but centuries ago.

There was Mongolia and Goryeo.

Mongolia had grown annoyed with the coastal pillaging by pirates from Japan and eventually decided to gather an expedition force. The Mongolia that turned entire continents into wastelands had no fear in the world and thought Japan would be an easy conquest.

However, due to their far-reaching influence, they pressured their subordinate Goryeo to join the expedition. And so was formed the Goryeo-Mongolia alliance.

With intense combat techniques honed through fierce battles and battle equipment developed from various nations, they easily pushed back the Japanese army. Moreover, the Mongols had compiled various shamanistic practices from several countries, gaining countless by-products they didn’t hesitate to share with Goryeo.

They decimated Japan, slaughtering every human taller than a cartwheel, surrounding fortified castles and spreading plagues, burning granary lands and sowing salt, contaminating water sources, and throwing decayed, cursed corpses into them.

The combination of Mongolia and Goryeo was terrifying. Not only did their warriors’ coordination mesh well, but the power of the Mongolian and Goryeo shamans created an overwhelming strength that was impossible to resist.

The Mongol shamans wore garments made from deerskin and the feathers of birds of prey, bestowing spells on their warriors. These warriors became as agile as deer, as strong as eagles, and could see as clearly as owls at night.

It didn’t stop there. The horses enchanted by these shamans transformed into beasts that savagely bit and drank the blood of other animals, roaming in packs, hunting people like predators.

Meanwhile, the Goryeo shamans were skilled in room techniques and enchantments, dressing colorfully and carrying bundles of shamanistic materials. They warded off curses for warriors and shamans, assassinated enemy commanders with dark enchantment magic, and even placed magical objects resembling puppets with nails driven through their heads so no military force could regroup in regions they devastated. Anyone who lingered near those objects inevitably met an inexplicable, bizarre death that terrified the local populace into staying away.

But the relentless advance of this force was not to last, for it was the will of nature.

Back then, a typhoon hit the Goryeo-Mongolia alliance, later to be known as the Kamikaze. This typhoon caused such significant damage that the allied forces ceased their invasion and returned, and when they attempted to invade again, the typhoon returned, forcing them to abandon the expedition altogether.

Even so, the fear they instilled persisted through the ages.

Mongolia, Goguryeo.

Mokuri Koguri.

Mukuri Koguri.

The terror left by the Goryeo-Mongolia alliance transformed into a yokai and ghost named Mukuri Kokuri no Inugami, becoming a deep-seated fear ingrained in all the people of Japan, used to scare disobedient children with the warning, “If you don’t listen, Mukuri Kokuri will come and take you away!”

Even as spirits appeared throughout Japan due to the hun and Baek, and later as the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons occurred, turning the land into a realm of ghosts, Mukuri Kokuri did not appear—but people continued to fear its name.

Even as Japan’s name changed from Wa to Nihon, through its conquests and eventual defeat in the world wars, and as it rebuilt to become modern Japan, the fear remained.

“The lack of a physical form turned you into an inescapable fear. How ironic.”

Perhaps because it had no physical form.

The Japanese lived with the byproducts of the energy dome, alongside evil spirits and demons. Walking the streets might lead one to encounter demons invisible blades cutting people, horned giants smashing them with clubs, evil spirits possessing prostitutes and causing their bodies to mutate, and items imbued with spirits that cursed and possessed humans.

The demons were ferocious, the evil spirits grotesque.

The Japanese, desperate to escape the terror these entities brought, gave them names and caricatured them humorously in a bid for mockery and derision. Using independently developed magic to exorcise these beings, they reduced them to mere tales.

Indeed, this method was effective enough that those once feared entities now survive only in modern creative works.

But Mukuri Kokuri had no physical form, and thus the Japanese could not easily name it or reduce it to mere folklore. It remained an incomprehensible entity, feared but impossible to exorcise or fully understand.

Despite attempts to erase its memory, the terror remained ingrained in their genes and unconscious minds…

Thus, the Japanese devised another solution: worship.

To transform their incomprehensible fear into reverence, into something worshipped akin to transcendent beings, releasing themselves from its binds.

Thus, Mukuri Kokuri faiths appeared throughout Japan.

In some places, they created songs praising Mukuri Kokuri, giving people courage to sleep. Known as “Moko Lullabies,” these helped overcome fear and brought peaceful sleep.

Elsewhere, people crafted puppets to be taken instead of humans, praying for bountiful harvests in exchange for Mukuri Kokuri leaving them alone. These have become modern festival artifacts known as Mukuri Kokuri dolls.

In other places, they relied on divination to utilize its fear-induced omnipotence.

This method was named Kokuri-San, originally using the Chinese characters for Goguryeo as “Kokuri-San” but later changed during the Japanese occupation era to the names of animals, transforming into “Kokuri-San” (Fox-Dog-Tanuki).

This practice also spread to Korea as “Bunsin Sabal,” evolving with lost and changed rules into necromancy rather than divination.

[ Gurrrrr! ]

And still, in other places, they worshipped the curses brought by the Goryeo-Mongolian alliance.

That was exactly the divine body growling in front of Jinseong.

“Having gained a power far too great for an animal spirit bound within a curse, you have yet to ascend to the level of a celestial being despite centuries passing. It is only fitting that you serve me without resentment.”

Jinseong grinned, watching the dog unable to attack him.

“Comfortable in routine, you are but a half-Ascended beast. Receive my gift.”

Boom!

He stomped his foot powerfully. Despite being a simple movement, it reverberated like a bell, shaking the main hall with immense vibrations and sounds, twisting the doorframes and bending the pillars as if an earthquake had struck.

[ Roaaaar! ]

Kudangtangtang!

As the main hall trembled, the dog leapt into the air, its form resembling a lighthouse beam gliding through the air, breaking through the twisted doorframe and flying outside. The door shattered easily, like a bell destroyed, and the dog was supposed to run away—but…

[ Konk? ]

There was nowhere for the dog to escape.

All the dog saw was darkness in the sky.

The heavens had turned pitch black, as if in broad daylight. This shadowy sky encased the shrine in a dome, isolating the space and blocking out the sunlight, plunging the entire complex into darkness. No amount of light from the dog could dispel it.

Kwa—aaaaaaaa!

The black sky roared at the hapless deity.

“You have nowhere to run.

You shall meet the end that hunters deserve.”

“If you had obtained spiritual awareness, you would have noticed this. All of this stems from your laziness.”

Saying this, Jinseong flicked a small bell with his fingernail.

Ayyyyyyyy—ing!

A dissonant bell sound. Unlike the clear tone before, it was a thin, grating sound, akin to scraping chalk on a board, resonating like a smooth stone, making the hairs on one’s skin stand on end, inducing shivers. It heightened the siren’s wail beyond human auditory limits, making it an unsettling experience just to listen.

The sound, which stimulated the ears and awakened the brain, spread in all directions as before.

The darkened heavens began to move, responding to the sound. Small holes, like cracks, appeared, letting in sunlight like a Swiss cheese pattern, undulating and growing closer to the dog.

To the glowing eyes of the dog, it appeared as if the heavens were collapsing.

It seemed like a collapse of the sky descending upon it, like waves of darkness rolling to claim it. Memories of the past resurfaced in the dog’s mind: the shimmer of water, the moving waves guided by old shamans, and the nightmares where sea-water hands repeatedly tried and failed to grab it.

[ Roaaaaaaaaaaar! ]

In response to these memories, the dog emitted a howl, dispersing divine energy in all directions.

Kwa—aaaaaaaaaaaang!

Black sky.

Or rather.

A swarm of mosquitoes, gathering in numbers so vast they could darken the shrine, surged toward the dog.