A Buddhist Temple stood somewhere deep in the mountains, with run-down stone lanterns lining the path to its entrance.

The smell of burning incense lingered in the air, an earthy, sweet scent that set a spiritual mood—suitable for praying.

Inside is Gyomei, his legs sitting in a praying position and hands pressed together. Tears cascaded down from his pale, cloudy eyes, an evident sign of blindness.

He looked like a saint of sorts, benevolent yet powerful.

"Namu Amida Butsu..." The holy man chanted a sutra, his low guttural voice possessing a somewhat intimidating yet gentle tone.

He was a spiritual man, even as a demon slayer—he had time and space for his religion.