Fate: Hero Simulator

[3rd POV]

"Muku, you seem to be a bit lost lately?"

The old monk, Sifu, looked at the disciple he had taken in.

Since childhood, this disciple had shown remarkable intelligence and a deep understanding of Buddhist scriptures, as if nothing could confuse him.

But today, the old monk sensed something different, and his disciple seemed to be experiencing some confusion.

"Master, what exactly are the vows we follow in our practice?"

He had lived in the mountains all his life, but he had heard about the current era from his fellow monk who went out to gather supplies.

He was in the Sengoku period of Japan, a time when many famous figures that people in Japan would later know well were active.

At this time, Oda Nobunaga had already risen to power, and various warlords were planning to form a siege to attack him.

In this era of constant warfare, even farmers in the countryside were often dragged into battle.

In such chaotic times, only those with enough strength could protect what they wished to defend.

Kyouya had strength, but if it required killing others to obtain it, it conflicted with the vows he had sworn to follow.

Was it worth sacrificing the vows for power?

This was the confusion he was facing right now.

"The vows are tools to help us become Buddhas."

Although Sifu was merely a monk of the mountains, he knew that some high monks ignored the vows and drank, ate meat, and indulged in women.

However, this did not prevent them from being regarded as high monks.

"If a person's practice is enough and they have become a Buddha, they naturally no longer need to follow the vows. The vows are merely a ladder to help us reach higher places. Once we have reached the top, we no longer need the ladder."

With this simple statement, Sifu clearly explained the truth: "The wine and meat pass through the intestines, but the Buddha sits in the heart."

However, he was still worried that Kyouya might stray from the path and added a final caution.

"However, that is after becoming a Buddha. If we abandon the ladder while still climbing, the higher we go, the harder we will fall. You must remember that."

"This disciple understands."

Kyouya pondered this answer thoughtfully, but he still felt like there was a layer of glass between him and the real answer, something he couldn't quite break through.

"Master, I wish to go to the back mountain for some time to meditate. I hope to resolve the confusion in my heart."

"I will have your fellow monk bring you your meals."

[You came to the back mountain to resolve the confusion within your heart and began living a life of solitude and self-cultivation.]

[You easily enter a state of meditation, and it feels as if you hear the voices of gods and Buddhas, yet you cannot understand their words. This is a sign that your practice is still lacking.]

[During this time of practice, you gradually begin to see a shadow figure.]

It was the illusion of a Bodhisattva.

In meditation, Kyouya "opened his eyes" and once again saw the figure before him—a Bodhisattva with her back turned to him.

She seemed to always be reciting sutras and didn't do anything else.

Budda didn't answer Kyouya's questions either.

It's heart to heart and no words spoken.

He recalled that Satsujin-in Kiyoharu—solving riddles was a traditional method in Zen Buddhism for transmitting teachings.

The very act of contemplation was part of the practice.

However, for a mere mortal like him to comprehend the thinking of a Bodhisattva is somewhat like asking the impossible.

....

At the destroyed mountain gate, a group of weary samurai finally reached their destination.

 They had followed the legend and arrived at this temple.

"Honored guests..."

"Cut the nonsense and hand over the cursed sword Murasame."

The samurai leader didn't give the welcoming monk any time to react.

He swung his sword and struck the monk's body.

The monk, with eyes widened, slowly fell to the ground, blood pouring everywhere.

"Ahhhhhhh."

The panicked voices spread throughout the temple.

Unlike the monks who had secluded themselves in the mountains for cultivation, these samurai, who made their living outside, were used to the sight of death.

For years, the warlords fought among themselves, and most of these men were deserters who had escaped from the battlefields.

After leaving the battlefield, they didn't dare return, nor did they have the skills to farm. The only option left was to claim the mountains as their own, living like bandits.

The bolder ones became mercenaries and killing was as easy as drinking water for them.

This time, they had come to this ruined mountain temple because of a legend—the legend of the cursed sword Murasame.

"Capture all these monks and bring them to the main hall. I will question each of them one by one."

The cursed sword Murasame, according to legend, would grow stronger with each life it took. And in this era, there was no shortage of people to kill.

On the battlefield, countless lives were lost. The ongoing wars had shown the insignificance of human life.

In this era, everyone began desperately seeking power, and most strengthened themselves through training, but others focused on obtaining the so-called cursed swords.

"Benefactor, this is a sacred place of Buddha, why bring more suffering by shedding blood?"

Monk Sifu looked at the samurai before him, clearly understanding that the other party would never stop until they got what they wanted.

"Since this temple is sacred, why keep a cursed sword? Master, I am sure you wouldn't want your temple to be reduced to ashes, do you?"

"I understand. Please, wait for a moment."

Master Sifu's face was filled with sorrow.

Indeed, the cursed sword Murasame was hidden inside the mud statue of the Buddha in the main hall.

Over the years, Master Sifu led the monks in chanting in front of the Buddha to cleanse evil from the cursed sword.

However, it now seemed that all his efforts had been in vain.

Master Sifu led the others to destroy the Buddha statue, and a long sword slowly revealed itself.

The leader of the samurai grew even more greedy as he pushed aside the people around him and pulled the cursed sword, Murasame, out from inside the statue.

Even after being sealed away for so many years, the passage of time had left no mark on the blade.

It looked as if the sword had just been forged.

Seeing the bewildered look on the leader's face, Sifu understood that the demonic nature of the cursed sword had not been fully purified.

Now that the cursed sword, Murasame was free, it was clear that another storm bloodshed was about to follow.

"Old monk, I've heard this sword cleanses itself with rain after it kills. I need to test it."

The samurai leader looked at the monks before him, a malicious smile spreading across his face to be sure the sword was real.

He wanted to silence anyone who knew about the sword.

The number of people aware of this temple was growing, and they had arrived just in time.

If anyone else found out that the cursed sword was in their hands, it would be impossible to keep it safe.

Leaving any of these monks alive was never an option, and it had been decided from the very beginning.

The samurai leader's smile twisted into something malicious but quickly faded as... the back of his head exploded.

"I'm going to sneak attack."

With those words, the samurai leader collapsed to the ground, his hand losing its grip on the cursed sword.

A young monk swiftly caught it.

To be continued...

...

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