Her devotees surged forward like a collapsing tide. Some screamed her name as if it were a spell; others tore their own flesh to offer blood before charging. The sky darkened under their numbers. But they never reached him.
The dragon descended first. Its body coiled across the battlefield like a living storm, scales grinding against each other with the sound of mountains collapsing. It opened its jaws in boredom and swallowed them whole. Gods, beasts, soldiers, devotion and flesh vanished alike, crushed between divine teeth. Their screams echoed briefly inside its throat, then became silence.
The heavenly pig roared and charged. Each step shattered space itself. It smashed through ranks of attackers, tusks ripping bodies apart, hooves turning gods into red mist. Where it passed, nothing remained but broken halos and drifting bones.
The golden arhat walked calmly through the chaos. Blades struck him. Mantras detonated against his chest. Curses crawled over his skin and died. His body was indestructible, and he used it without mercy, grabbing enemies and slamming them into the ground until the earth itself cracked, until even their souls ruptured.
The mirebound immortal remained beside my master, its grotesque shell forming a living wall. Attacks struck it and slid away, absorbed, dissolved. Its many eyes never blinked.
Then the monkey laughed in sharp, mocking, voice.
In an instant, monkey split into ten, a hundred, a thousand identical forms bursting into existence. They swarmed the battlefield, grabbing gods by their limbs, their heads, their wings. The monkey copies began to play, kicking screaming bodies through the sky, batting them like toys, hurling them into one another until divine forms burst apart like rotten fruit. Each impact echoed with wet, hollow thunder.
And through it all, my master form rose, the ground fell away beneath him. The sky peeled back like skin. From behind his body, another body emerged, just like your sage body, vast, ancient, identical yet immeasurable. His chanting deepened. Heaven, earth, and hell resonated together, vibrating in unison. My bones ached. My soul trembled. Even the dead stirred. He raised his palm.
Before it could fall, five ancient sages descended from above, their forms half-light, half-scripture. They moved to intercept him, but the monkey was already there. With a howl of delight, the monkey wrapped his tail around all five at once and flung them into the void. Their screams stretched into nothing as they vanished into deep space, erased without ceremony.
My master's palm closed. He seized her as easily as a man picking up a grain of rice.
She struggled, shrieked, clawed at his fingers, her eyes burning with demonic fire but in his hand, she was small, pathetic.
"Answer me," my master said calmly. "Do you wish to abandon sin and walk toward bodhi? Or do you still clutch hidden desires?" But unknowingly she laughed in hoarse, cracked, feral.
"I will achieve godhood," she spat. "If not in this life, then the next. No one will defeat me."
Fire erupted from my master's hand. Later, when I asked, my master said it called karmic fire.
She screamed as the fire consumed her. Her body disintegrated into ash, then dust, then nothing. Same voice echoed one last time, fading:
"What is meant to burn has burned. What remains is dust. Flow away with time…"
Then, a roar appeared, no seem like thousands of dragons emerged from every direction, their voices shaking the firmament.
A vast, unseen presence spoke, its words pressing down like gravity itself. "Thank you, Benevolent One. Our seals are broken. You have released us. The heavens are in your debt."
Before I could breathe, the presence attacked, an invisible force tearing through space itself.
My master did not move. "You ask me to take back my words?" he said quietly. "I wish I could. But what I spoke has already become fate."
The presence trembled. "She was the cause," it argued. "She is gone. Why continue this anger?" "You could have helped her," my master replied. "Yet you did not. When she cried out, heaven was silent. So, my curse will fall."
The voice hardened. "I am no longer requesting. I am ordering you." My master's eyes lifted. "As you wish, but I will not obey. Remember this you will die. All of you. Quickly. Reborn without memory. Again and again. Until wisdom replaces arrogance."
The sky split.
A man white as jade descended in a chariot drawn by ten dragons. His green robes fluttered violently. "This is the final plea," he said. "Please… take back your word."
My master looked at him but said nothing.
But the monkey's laughter thundered across the fractured sky, a sound both playful and cruel, echoing off the jagged cliffs of the Island. "Hahaha… a mere donkey thinks it can hold me beneath stone! Weakling, pathetic, worthless!" The words reverberated, shaking the air, bending light as if reality itself quivered under the weight of his amusement. Dragons rose behind him, their wings blackening the horizon, teeth glinting like shards of obsidian, ready to rend any challenger.
He fixed his gaze on the monkey. But the monkey, eyes glinting like molten gold, did not falter. "Weak," it said, and with a flick, the dragons surged forward, flames licking sky and sea, ready to tear him apart. But before they could strike, a toad‑tortoise immortal yet majestic in its sheer presence, leapt from the waves. Its tongue shot out like a living whip, ensnaring the dragons mid-flight, tossing them through waves, air, and back into the water. The dragons' cries were swallowed by the roar of the sea, only to be spat back again, broken, twisted, mangled by the immortal's unyielding grip.
The man cried out, a sound sharp and fearful, "You dare—?"
From the depths behind him, the air warped. A taichi diagram unfolded on nothingness itself, spirals and interlocking circles in black and white, shifting, alive. Everything turned into a dizzying monochrome, a world undone by geometry and cosmic law. Suddenly, a staff appeared from nowhere, descending with such force that it shattered the diagram, leaving cracks in the fabric of the island. The man screamed as the staff struck, nearly ending him. "Weak as hell," the monkey sneered, stretching reality into a cruel playground. "Wait, let me play football with you."
But before the mockery could continue, a colossal hand grabbed him from above. I could see only a fragment of a face, enormous, more immense than anything I had ever witnessed. Even my master's power, radiant and world-shaking, felt like candlelight in comparison. The realm itself seemed to quake, and from the ruptured clouds, lotuses bloomed in impossible numbers, each petal suffused with light so pure it hurt the eyes, cascading like rivers of golden fire. My demonic form dissolved instantly, a reflection extinguished by something infinitely greater. Fire swallowed by water. I could feel the world holding its breath.
All the combatants froze. All attacks halted. The lotus light washed over everything, as if the universe itself recognized the arrival of something beyond comprehension.
The towering presence spoke, a voice calm yet layered with the weight of eternity. "Monkey, restrain your anger. The past is past. All events caused by your wrath are ended. Yet beware, one remains beneath the sea, nursing vengeance. But when the source of his power fades, so too will he. Cause and effect govern all. Nothing escapes the balance."
He turned his gaze to us, and I felt the tremor of truth in his words. "She did nothing inherently wrong. She spat upon the currents of great energy, yes, but she was part of nature's ebb. Her curse arose not from malevolence, but from consequence. The mortal who sacrificed her heart acted in ignorance, as do all who walk without understanding. Both will be corrected in time."
A hush fell over the battlefield, as if creation itself paused to hear. His eyes burned with quiet fury, yet calm. "The curse remains," he continued. "It will be lifted, but not by me. Fate unfolds, and all will bear its weight. Each soul reborn, each sin accounted for, until understanding replaces ignorance. Some will achieve godhood; others will falter and die. The cycle continues until balance is restored."
The man who had questioned him earlier trembled. "But… will he not grow too powerful?"
"Power," the presence intoned, voice like rolling thunder softened with inevitability, "is a double-edged truth. The greater the strength, the heavier the fall, if one cannot control it."
I asked, my voice small against the cosmic echoes, "Then… the souls, can they finally be free? Or must they endure endlessly?"
A shadow of sorrow flickered across the presence. "Mortals are bound by more than flesh. Even in death, chains remain. These souls are free in one sense, yet they will be reborn, over and over, until their purpose is fulfilled. You, too, mortal, have neglected the duties of the Heaven-Seat. You cannot claim immortality or godhood in a single lifetime. You must repay your karma." He said to me "One day, when the time is right, I will come to guide you. Wait for that sign, and then you will know."
The wind shifted. Waves rose and fell violently around us. A haze of light and shadow rolled across the island, revealing half-sunken temples, twisted statues, remnants of battles long past. Threads of black and red energy spiraled like living things, waiting, whispering of unfinished deeds. Even the air felt heavy, tinged with the scent of ash, ozone, and unspent divine fury.
"Retreat," the presence said, voice both gentle and final. "All of you, no more harming. Mara, withdraw."
I stood there, trembling, knowing that the island itself had changed. No longer just stone and sea, it had become a crucible of fate, a mirror of karma, the Reverse-Soul Mirage Island, where past and future collided, where sins, sacrifices, and desires would eternally be weighed. Each soul who had fought, suffered, or died here would leave a trace, feeding the island's silent memory.
From the red clouds that had not yet dispersed, a low, cracked, layered with mockery and hunger voice crawled out. "Then let demons rule the court," it sneered. "Another war will bloom, won't it? And tell me, Enlightened One, when they are reborn, will they not also be born as demons?"
The clouds churned, crimson veins pulsing through them like exposed organs.
The Buddha's gaze did not waver. His voice was calm, precise, almost merciless in its clarity. "Yes," he said. "Let me be clear then. At the age of sixteen, they will return to this place. If they pass what awaits them here, they may live longer, yet still chase immortality. If they fail, they will live only until twenty. After that, death. You, I, all of us, we will be reborn again."
The clouds trembled. Then, without ceremony, the Buddha vanished. The battlefield collapsed into silence. Only my master remained. Mara's voice shrieked once more from the dissolving heavens, furious, humiliated. "You bastard Buddha, always dragging me into your cosmic farce!"
The monkey's laughter burst out, sharp and delighted, before he vanished as well, followed by the others. Dragons retreated. Immortals dissolved into mist. The sky stitched itself back together, blue and indifferent, as if nothing divine had ever stained it.
After that day, my master remained here. He sat within this cavern for years, years measured not by seasons, but by the slow dripping of cursed water, by the way shadows lengthened unnaturally, by the way the idol of Mara cracked inch by inch beneath his presence. He destroyed what remained of Mara inside that idol. Each day, the idol screamed a little less.
One evening, my master spoke, his voice heavy with regret. "I must go soon," he said. "But before that… let me try once." What he did next was unspeakable. With a gesture gentle enough to be mistaken for mercy, he pulled my soul from my body.
There was no pain at first, only a vertigo so deep it felt like falling upward. I saw myself from outside: a demoness body frozen in place, skulls embedded, veins blackened, eyes hollow. And then I saw my soul.
Half of it was rotting. Twisted threads, crawling marks, something growing inward instead of outward. Light erupted from his gaze.
It burned the corrupted half of my soul writhed, shrieking soundlessly as if insects were being boiled alive inside me. The cave screamed with it. And somewhere nearby, the doll, the vessel, began to burn.
I panicked and asked to stop, also I cried in sudden pain, if that doll is destroyed, my body will die. I will remain only as a wandering soul." My master did not hesitate. With a single motion, he cut my soul in half.
The purified half he held carefully. The corrupted half fell back like a disease returning to its host.
"This part," he said softly, "will remain here. It will gather karma, slowly, painfully. And this, " he looked at the purified soul, "will reincarnate. Again and again."
I trembled. "How many times?" He shook his head. "I do not know."
Then, after a pause, he added, "But one day, you will both know. You will feel it. Each meeting will be closer than the last, almost matching, but never fully aligning."
I reached for him. "Can we not merge sooner?"
"No," he said sharply. "Do not force it. Forced union will shatter the karmic path and begin the cycle again."
She began to pray again, her lips moving without sound, fingers trembling. After a long while, she spoke once more.
"My master stayed with me," she said. "Until one day, he asked me a question he had carried for far too long."
Her voice softened. "'Why did you not call me when this happened?'"
She lowered her eyes. "I told him the truth. You said you were on a journey, something vast, something important towards south. I thought it wrong to call you back for a mortal's suffering."
He listened. Then he asked, "'Why not the sage?'" I let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "He said he had no interest in mortal lives. So I never asked."
The boy, who was silent for a long time suddenly asked, "So… what did he do then?"
He reached out and wiped the cold tears that had gathered at the corner of her eyes.
"What did he say?" the boy asked again.
She inhaled, steadying herself, and spoke. "He said… he would wait."
The words trembled from weight.
"He said he would wait for me to be truly free. He even tried to pass his virtue to me, secretly, piece by piece, hoping to anchor me again to humanity. Just… the ability to regain human."
Her lips curved faintly, a broken smile. "But the world does not forgive such kindness."
The cave shuddered. From the idol a voice emerged. It pressed directly against the mind, calm and absolute, like judgment without hatred.
"Fate is decided at birth. Not by cruelty, but by causality. What has ripened cannot be returned to seed."
She continued, her voice overlapping with the echo of that presence.
"Do not use your power anymore. What you have done already stands against creation. You separated what cannot be separated."
"You know the soul cannot be severed. It cannot be burned. It cannot be drowned, pierced, or destroyed. Weapons do not cut it. Fire does not consume it. Water does not rot it. Wind does not scatter it. The soul is unborn, eternal, ancient. Bodies fall. Names vanish. Worlds collapse. Yet the soul remains, untouched."
"And yet, by karmic force alone, you split what should not be split. Not by ignorance, but by compassion. This is why the consequence is heavier."
Silence followed.
"Do not interfere further. You have other duties. Go. The Arhat awaits you."
She swallowed.
"He wanted to stay," she said. "But I told him to leave."
Her fingers curled into the prayer beads unconsciously.
"He left… sorrowful. He did not look back. And before he went, he said only one thing."
Her voice softened into imitation.
"Your demonic nature may rise again. So I will leave my friend here."
She stood up. She bowed once and walked toward the darkest corner of the cavern. The boy followed at a distance. As she stepped forward, candles ignited one by one, without flame touching wick, spreading inward like a nervous system awakening.
There, bound by red threads soaked in old seal-ink, stood a staff. Scriptures floated around it, circling, colliding, reforming. Seven symbols rose and fell continuously, from base to crown, then crown to base, like breath made visible.
The boy frowned. "Why only seven letters?" he asked. "Why do they move up… and then down?"
She answered without turning.
"Seven seals. Each bears a different authority. I don't know their true names. I only know this -"
She touched the air near the staff, but did not touch it. "I bound my demonic self to protect my human self. Without it… I would have failed during my second lifetime."
The staff was tall, ancient. Four massive rings rested along its shaft, each ring engraved with living reliefs. They did not feel like metal.
"They feel alive," he whispered.
She nodded. "Four dragon-circles. Guardians of direction."
Above them. twenty-seven smaller rings, each etched with different scripts: Sanskrit, unknown runes, celestial sigils, languages that hurt the eyes to focus on. Each ring carried a seated Buddha, some serene, some wrathful, some hollow-eyed.
The whole object radiated restrained divinity. Beside it, there was his sword and above it, hanging quietly, was his hat.
"That sword," she said, "was given to you by a sage. Wasn't it?"
He nodded. "He also gave me half his virtue, after my master went. Also he was the keeper of this island. Nothing can goes beyond his eyes" she continued.
Her gaze sharpened. "You know I wanted to ask this question for long time. Why are you here? You bear no divine mark. No karmic seal. No heavenly summons."
The boy hesitated. "My aunt," he said finally. "She sent me. I never asked how powerful she is."
Her eyes darkened. "Then someone has altered your fate. No one else came?" he asked. "In the last decade?"
She laughed softly. "A decade?"
She faced him again. "Time here is warped. A thousand years passed. Fifteen thousand five hundred and ten entered. Six passed."
His breath caught. "The rest?"
"Removed. By array-machines. Or traded. Your fate was exchanged with another's. Your life-seed too. Someone stole yours. Someone gave you theirs." Boy asked "How can anyone know this? Did not Buddha said no one remembers past lives" She said "I think they found a method to bypass this place." Boy asked "How?"
Her voice dropped. "That is what frightens me. Maybe… she's returning."
A thick silence grew between them. "I think," she said, "someone is trying to call her back."
The boy exhaled sharply. "hunh... Those scum never stop."
He looked up. "You mentioned an island. One that will call me."
She smiled. "I won't tell you the name. That would ruin the surprise."
Then she leaned closer.
"But remember this. When the call comes. You have to go there and have to find a flower."
The cave lights dimmed.
"Blue-Thunder Lotus."
To be Continued...