Blade of the Goddess - Chapter 9 - Don’t you dare talk about my Mother!

Existing all over the world sleeps treasure tools with special powers.

Riches, Prestige, and finally Power.

Chasing glory, an era where Treasure Hunters rampage through Treasure Shrines without regard for danger.

Together with his childhood friends, Krai shares the dream of becoming a hunter. On their first expedition he notices that out of the six of them, he is the only one without any talent.

However, that was only the beginning of their adventures.

“It’s too unreasonable. I want to quit this dangerous job already. I’m gonna throw up. ”

“Ok, got it. In other words we should get strong enough to cover your part too. Nice handicap.”

“Don’t worry Krai-chan. We’ll make sure to protect you.”

“Ah, stop. If you step there you’ll disappear without even leaving dust behind. Take care, ok leader?”

Protected by his childhood friends that are too strong, relying on his juniors and other hunters – they aim at being heroes and obtaining treasure.

Will Krai be able to quit being a hunter while still in one piece?

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In the rural northeastern mountainous regions stands a tiny Buddhist temple, named One Finger Temple. It isn’t a large one but it is extremely miraculous.

The temple has rice that emanates an aromatic fragrance.

The temple has sweet and refreshing water that rivals ambrosia.

The temple has Buddhas that grant wishes to the sincere.

The temple isn’t large but it has everything. The temple isn’t large but it has flourishing incense offerings that far exceed all temples. The temple isn’t large but it attracts both citizens and foreigners that line up overnight…

The temple has a bald but handsome monk. Every day, he would bawl, “I want to renounce asceticism! I want to marry a chick that’s not too pretty, have a cute baby, and lead a stable life!”

Officer, if I told you this just was a “Healing-type Game,” would you believe me?

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go.Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass.Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons.On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes.A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past.Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.