Extra Chapter 8: Pure Land Heart Lotus
The earth-shattering war ultimately ended at a tragic cost, with both sides suffering heavy losses. The old order collapsed, a new pure land was established, and its other founder fell into eternal silence.
Indra exhausted everything. His divine power, his mind, even the very essence that held his body together. He wasn't dead, but he was also without life. Amidst Asura's earth-shattering roar and endless panic, his form gradually dissipated, ultimately transforming into a delicate golden lotus bud, floating quietly in the center of the only pristine lotus pond, once the scorched earth of the battlefield, now forcibly purified.
The flower bud was too small and too fragile, and the golden light was dim, as if a slightly stronger breeze could blow it away.
Asura knelt by the pool, his massive hand, once the one that had shattered gods and demons, trembling, afraid even to touch. Those blood-red eyes that had made all things tremble were now filled with nothing but vast emptiness and a childlike helplessness.
"Indra..." He called out hoarsely, but the only response he got was the cold wind with a smell of blood whistling around him.
From that day on, the demon god Asura who swept across the world had a new and only mission:
Grow a lotus.
He dismissed all his attendants and designated the lotus pond as a forbidden area. No one except him was allowed to approach it.
The initial days were filled with near-hopeless clumsiness. Unsure of what to do, he could only rely on his most primal instincts, guarding the pond day and night, pouring his pure strength into the small bud as if it were free. But the power was too violent; each input caused the bud to tremble violently, and its golden light dimmed.
Ashura pulled his hand back suddenly as if he was burned, and for the first time he felt how disgusting his own power was.
He fell silent, his blood-red pupils fixed on the weak lotus, like a trapped and anxious beast, but he dared not move even a little bit.
Later, he began to try the most common method. He sought the purest spiritual spring water from the Pure Land, filled it with the softest jade bottle, and every morning, carefully sprinkled it drop by drop on the lotus bud and the leaves below it. His controlled hands, which could easily crush divine bones, now worried that even the force of the water droplets would be too strong.
He no longer wore his hard armor, but soft, dark cloth to avoid scraping against the branches and leaves in the pond. His massive body would always be carefully curled up by the pond, where he would sit for the entire day, silent as an ancient rock, his gaze fixed only on the lotus.
"Today... there was another small conflict on the border." He would suddenly speak in a low, hoarse voice, muttering to Lotus as if talking to himself, "I didn't kill them all, I just drove them away. ... Do you think that's right?"
The lotus is silent, only the breeze makes the leaves sway gently.
"The humans sent us new rice seeds, supposedly able to grow in the north. It's a hassle... but it seems to be of some use."
"That guy Aoki actually tried to cast some kind of labor-inducing spell on you, but I threw him out."
The days, months, and years passed by.
The smoke of battle had completely dissipated, and Pure Land was gradually returning to normalcy. But the lone figure by the lotus pond never left. He still came daily to water the pond, sometimes bringing with him some unusual find—a strange rock, smoothed by the spring water, a leaf imbued with a special spiritual energy, or even a ray of the purest morning light he had just caught. He would gently place these objects on the lotus leaves, like a small tribute.
The content of his conversation also changed from the initial war and government affairs to more trivial things.
"The lotus flowers outside are blooming again, but they're not as pretty as you." "I dreamed of you yesterday... you're still as sharp-tongued as ever." "Wake up quickly, Indra... I'm..."
The final words always vanished in a silent sigh. He would stretch out his fingers, using the softest part of his fingertips to very gently trace the outline of the golden bud over and over again, as if he could touch the person's eyebrows and eyes through it.
After who knows how many years, the lotus bud finally grew a little bigger, and the golden light became condensed and warm. One morning, the outermost petals even trembled slightly, and a gap opened outward.
Ashura froze instantly, even his breathing stagnating. He stared intently at the subtle changes, and for the first time, a look of near-panic anticipation appeared in his blood-red pupils.
Another long wait.
Until another spring came, when other lotus flowers in the lotus pond were blooming, the golden lotus, which had been poured with countless efforts and waits, finally bloomed completely in layers on a moonlit night.
The golden light is overflowing and the lotus fragrance is subtle, more dazzling and holy than any treasure in the world.
And in the center of the flower where brilliant golden light was condensed, a familiar figure slowly took shape.
He curled up like a newborn baby, a soft halo surrounding him, his long sandy blond hair drooping, covering the side of his face. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, his breathing steady and long.
Ashura stepped into the pool, creating ripples. The current soaked his clothes, but he was oblivious. With a trembling hand, he reached out and carefully, like a rare treasure, lifted the newly emerged, naked body from the lotus, cradling it tightly in his arms.
The moment their skin touched, the body moved slightly, and the long eyelashes trembled, like a butterfly spreading its wings for the first time.
A pair of hazy, pure golden eyes, like a newborn's, slowly opened. With the confusion and bewilderment of a newly awakened person, they reflected Ashura's face, which was filled with endless anticipation, ecstasy, and immense pain.
He tilted his head, as if trying to identify something. His pink lips parted slightly, and he uttered a weak and hoarse syllable, with an uncertain tentative tone:
"...A...Shura?"
The arms hugging him suddenly tightened, causing him a slight pain. However, he heard a suppressed sob from above his head, as if squeezed from the deepest part of his lungs.
"……Um."
Asura buried his face deeply in his lotus-scented neck, and the hot liquid finally gushed out uncontrollably, burning Indra's new skin.
He had been cultivating flowers for a long, long time. Finally, once again, they blossomed into his entire world.
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