On a particular rocky mountain path flanked by precipitous cliffs, the sound of footsteps could be heard. The wind flows heavily, making the wailing sound of a newborn child. The mountain path was full of rocks and dusts, adorned by many rock pillars, slowly eroded by the passing wind. Churning and billowing fog obscuring the sight of people who come to pass. On this desolate road, the cold temperature with the sinister ambiance gave a spine -chilling sense to whoever came to this place.

Tap..tap..tap..

On one side of the cliffs, there's a flight of stairs seemingly formed by nature itself. Two men were seen descending the stairs with one in front and the other following. The man in front was bald old man wearing a monk's robe, his feeble old hand carrying a lantern as the only source of light for them in this ill-lit path. His tired old eyes were half-closed, full on vicissitudes of life seemed struggling, reluctant to continue on this journey yet there's also a hint hopelessness in them. The man in the back was a middle aged man in his thirties wearing a dark-gold silk robe with a simple decoration of red daffodils knitted on the sleeves. There's a simple sword strapped on his waist with daffodils crest on the sheath. The man has bold and charismatic aura, his eyes shown his nature as a brave and strong willed person even though he looked tense and unease, it didn't affect his handsome face.

Silence accompany their descending journey, the both of them seem to have their own thought. When they reach to the bottom of the stairs, the middle-age man finally speak.

"Old monk, how much longer? We need to arrived before dawn"

The monk keeps walking in front, still looking up ahead replied with a weak, helpless voice

"Not much longer my lord, please use this time to think it through".

"I have, that's why I'm here. No need to persuade me any longer Old Monk, I have made up my mind." His eyes flashed with hints of hesitation but quickly replaced with vehement resolution. Hearing the reply, the old monk can only sigh and keep walking.

Silence once again descended on their journey. Walking to their destination, they see many human skeletons still wearing clothes albeit tattered, undoubtedly the original owner of the skeletons had died a long time ago. The puzzling thing was, a lot of this skeletons were in the pose of kneeling, kowtowing or praying with their hands clapped together as if they died while worshipping to something.

The middle-aged man warily looked around. His hand unconsciously tighten the grip on his sword. He put on his full attention on their surrounding, with limited visibility and sinister ambiance, his caution that were ingrained to his body kicked in.

"I thought this place is long deserted by the people. It's been more than a hundred years since it's closed off to public. Looking at the skeletons, they haven't died for more than 20 years." he said

"Even though this place had been closed for a hundred years, the story of this place passed on as legend and still lingers in people's mind, many still believe in 'them' and the power 'they' hold. The people who reluctant to enter Samsara and had lived a life full of bad deeds, they came here and curse the Heaven for their miserable life, casting of their humanity to seek 'their' blessing instead and bargaining for their life. Of course, these people never have their wish fulfilled" The Old Monk keeps walking steadily, as if this disturbing sight didn't affect him.

After walking for several minutes they arrived at a wider area. Here the fog greatly diminished, improving their visibility. The sight that greets them shocked the middle aged man, while hopelessness and resignation overwhelms the Old Monk. The Old Monk knew the he can't change the middle-aged man's horrifying decision anymore.

With only a lantern as source of light, they can see what's in front of them. There was a massive red gate, made of 2 large red pillars and 3 beams on top of it. There is no door on the gate, instead there is white thick rope connecting the 2 pillars. In front of the gate, there is a small dilapidated old cottage that were broken-down by time. But it was not the gate nor the cottage that shocked them but the mountain wall with a huge entrance behind the red gate. The entrance, no, it was more like huge cracks on the mountain wall that leads deep into the mountain itself. It was more than 100 meters in height, but it's width was only 18 meters or so. The entrance has a sinister aura, and even though they can see the entrance quite clearly, they can't see anything beyond it.

"So this is The Red Gate of Naraka" the sight in front of him brought awe and reverence to the middle-aged man.

The old monk suddenly kneels to the middle-aged man, with a loud thud, his knees falls to the ground followed by his head. "Lord Yakumo, we have served this country for hundreds of years, we in our best of capabilities always act for the best interest of this nation and its people. It is my duty to once again to dissuade you from your choice, 'they' will bring misery and suffering unto your people as it had a hundred years ago." he begged.

"Old Monk, our people already fell into misery and suffering. Disasters befell our land, disease plagued our people, crops withered, the men dying in flames of war, women taken both body and soul, the old lived in despair and the children die in terror. What I'm about to do is not choice, is necessity. If this continues on, our country will cease to exist. I'm not going to let this country that has been passed to my family for generation to perish in my hand." His eyes burned with stubbornness, the resolution in his heart keep getting stronger and stronger.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Hearing that the old monk didn't raise his head with a soft sigh he said "We are bound by oath and our loyalty has demanded, to guide our Lord when they are astray even if it means defying our Lord's orders." The old monk slowly raised his head, with concern and anxiety filled his heart he continued "The old clan ancestor has tasked us with this, so my deepest apologies My Lord, although I brought you here, I can't help you anymore"

"I know" the middle-aged man replied, unfazed by the statement of the old monk. "I even know the monks had burned the book of Nine-Ring Seal, but it doesn't matter"

The old monk was taken aback. 'if he knows about us burning the book of Nine-Ring Seal, then why he still insists to come here? Does this mean they have a way? the rumors are true?' he wondered. Following his line of thought the old monk was aghast,  fear and despair overcome him and by the progress of the situation he can no longer change it.

Looking at the monk, the middle-aged man were filled with complex emotion. "Old monk, you've been a teacher all my life, you are more of a father to me than my real father. I'm sorry to disappoint you and I'm sorry.."

They looked at each other and they can see from each other's eyes, the unconditional love of a father, the ever-present respect of a son. The old monk looked at the middle-aged man with warmth, tenderness and pride. As he was looking at the middle-aged man, he can't help but recollecting their joyous past as a family.

But his thought were suddenly interrupted by a sudden pain in his neck and he slowly shift his eyes downward only to be stunned by the sight of a bloodied steel. It was inconceivable, never past his mind that he would die in this place and the hands that doom him were of this man in front of him, the one he prized, cared and loved. The sword was swiftly pulled and followed by gush of blood. The monk struggled, using every strength he had to focus on his eyes to see the face of his killer, but the face was overlapped by an innocent face of a kid with wonder and puzzlement on his eyes. As his consciousness quickly fade away there's only one thing that he keeps hearing.

"I'm sorry"

The steel shook, blood dripped to the ground. The middle-aged man looked like nothing happen yet his face was wet by tears and his breath were ragged as if he was gasping for air. but quickly he closed his eyes and calm himself down, after a few seconds he were back to his normal self. He quickly reach for the dead monk and start searching for his 'mala'. When he got it, he quickly held the monks body and soak the mala with blood gushing from the wound. After the mala was soak through and through, he put it around his clasped hand* and start walking to the cottage.

When he's inside, he sit down with his hands still clapped together. As blood dripping to his hand from the mala, he keeps chanting some protection mantra. After some time, his eyes suddenly open and he pulls apart the mala scattering the beads around the floor. He quickly put his hand together again, and still in sitting position.

"With this blood as medium, let my voice through and be heard. Under 108 tainted Fruits of Earth, you are protected. Come, come, come into light children of Mara."

After shouting those words he stilled waiting for something to happen but the atmosphere are deadly still. After a while, he starting to get anxious, his brows furrowed and sweat starting to appear on his forehead. Even though he has utmost confidence in the ritual, after looking at the result he can't help but feel dejected. Just as he's trying to get up to inspect his surrounding his eyes caught something.

The scattered beads on the floor started moving while making no sound. They gathered together and forming a circle, the blood that soaked the beads were slowly separated and forming intersecting lines and the intersecting points is in the center of the gathered beads. Slowly a fire appear at the intersecting point, it was blue and beautiful like the color of frozen lake shined by moonlight. All of this happened silently without sound.

"It works, It goddamn works. Our time has come, it has come" The middle-aged man heaved a sigh of relief seeing the blue fire.

But just as he wants to start talking, he noticed he can't make or hear any sound. "What the hell is going on" he thought. The ritual works but the outcome is not like how he predicted. How is he supposed continue and ask for their help like this? While he was stunned, the blood line starting to diminish as it was consumed by the blue fire. He swiftly make his decision, grabbing the sword at his side and cut his arm drawing blood from it. Using his blood, he started to write.

"I ask for your help" he wrote.

The blue fire suddenly jumped on the writing startling the middle aged man and knocked him down. It scorched the blood to nothing. The flame flickered slightly after consuming the blood writing. The flame make no sound nor any writing, but the middle-aged man keeps looking at it intensely and he rejoiced. It turns out 'they' will answer his question by showing it in the flame. After looking at the fire for a while the man started writing again.

"Power"

The flame consumed it again while the middle-aged man stare at the flame with a zealous look, but quickly his face changed. After seeing the answer, he start contemplating for a few seconds and made up his mind.

"It will be one way or another" he thought. Then he wrote "The seal breaking method?"

The fire pounced on the writing again, it suddenly turned bigger and violent. The blood lines that were acting as fuel were consumed by the flame at a great speed and quickly diminishing. The man focused on the flame trying to remember every single detail it manifest. A horrified look appeared on his face as he can't believe the scene that he was seeing in the fire. He quickly dipped his finger with blood and wanted to start writing again but the blue fire exploded suddenly as all of the blood lines were consumed. When the fire in the center was extinguished, the 108 beads lit up at the same time with the same blue fire burning it to nothing not even ash were left. The room was quietly still as if everything that just happened is an illusion. The man didn't leave the room and stayed for a few hours.

Although the fog is thick the sunlight can still illuminate this place, it was morning when the man finally decided to get out of the cottage. When he walked out he did notice the body of the old monk were nowhere to be seen but it didn't even slowed him down. When he walked out of the mountain path and ascending the stairs his steps were no longer heavy but firm and steady instead. His hands on his back were clenched tightly, his eyes filled with wild ambition and his face was plastered with a smile. A sinister smile.