Mentioned Characters: Zanmu

The world is impure, and humans are foolish. That truth was once something the monk Zanmu Nippaku accepted and preached. But she has since strayed from that path, becoming a heretic monk. She was always known as eccentric. Maybe a great swell of passion led her astray, or perhaps she simply lost interest in monkhood. What did she feel when she veered away from her own humanity and set foot on the path of carnage? Step by step, she forged her way. But what lies in her wake? Blood? Cries of resentment? Or perhaps...

"Another day, another gloomy view..." Spring has always been a bitter season for Zanmu, reminding her of her retreat. And not just any retreat―one made in betrayal of the loyalty she once swore. To stray from the path you yourself chose is said to mark the death of the soul. Had she been a youkai, she likely would have perished. But as a human, she lived on... vowing to eradicate the sorrows of this world.

A world at war. It was a time so brutal and horrifying, it's now nearly impossible to imagine. It was a waking nightmare, just like this field in bloom, but with human heads in place of flowers. The stench of gunpowder and death choked the air, and moans rose endlessly from every patch of earth. No matter how much the impermanence of life was preached, no matter how brightly the flame of life shone, humans still fought. They stole everything from one another. Did Zanmu hope to save them? Even through suffering and disgrace, she swore to raise a child. Her Disciplinary Committee armband is not just for show.

"Lady Zanmu?" A voice called out from behind, and just like that, Zanmu's mind was pulled back to the present. Even if she strayed from the path of humanity and onto one of carnage, she would continue on, doing what she believed to be best. Her memories gave her no pause. As she turned, Zanmu drew her blade. The sword caught the sunlight, gleaming bright as it sliced through the air. With a swoosh, decapitated petals leapt up from their stems. The nameless blade came to a perfect stop just before piercing the neck of she who had spoken Zanmu's name.

"Oh, it's you." "Yep, it's me!" No matter what kind of path you walk, if you keep moving forward with conviction, others will naturally follow. And she who follows Zanmu is well-suited for her heretical path as a guide of Hell. Even with a blade at her throat, she smiled. "We're leaving," said Zanmu, resheathing her sword. "There's still a mountain of work ahead of us." And with that, she set off. Behind her stretched a dizzyingly vast flower field. Through it, Zanmu had forged her own path, leaving a mountain of flowers in her wake. Blowing gently in the breeze, the stray petals at its peak almost appeared to be waving, sending Zanmu on her way.