Iori stood from his makeshift chair, a foul expression marring his usually amiable mask. This was why all decent Practitioner avoided all monotheistic or polytheistic regions like the plague it was. Every single cultivator worked far too hard for their bodies to just give them up to some lazy leech, even those who followed a non-physical path. Just thinking of the absolute waste on display made a shiver run up his spine.
"You're truly the same as those corpse-diddlers."
Again, he hated all forms of necromancy with a fiery passion but possession was still a close second in that regard. And from how his verdant creature was nearly frothing at the...mouth? Roots? Whatever it had, the embodiment of the natural order seemed all too eager to tear into the abomination before it. So much, that it's slightly humanoid appearance was beginning to unravel and twist itself into something other. Not quite bipedal but also not exactly quadrupedal, 'arms' elongating into hooks merely masquerading as hands.
It was safe say, to nature, the 'divine' was not an ally. Well, neither were morals but at least they had the courtesy to actually die and not just continuously eat up resources. But gods? They were different. Leeches, all of them. Nibbling on mortals like ticks, growing fat on their faith and the power that comes from it.
No, maybe in the eye of nature, leeches and parasites were above the gods.
But sadly, no matter how much this embodiment of all things verdant wanted to tear apart that abomination in flesh, Iori sent out calming pulses of energy. Continuously forcing gentle Ki down it's gullet. He knew his creation would have no chance against this foe.
Sure, it might be revolting but they were still pretty strong and there had been plenty of arrogant practitioners that had foolishly under estimated a vesseled god only to fall as said divine creature completely burned through their hosts bodies just take the life of the upstart.
This reality just simply wasn't for the raw power that gods and in order for them to do anything without fracture life as we know they needed to go about it in a few ways. Owning a few mortal agents was the norm. Using them like chess pieces on a board, most of them were used in a similar fashion to Ando Kiyoko. Like crude sock puppets, using their divinity to control their subjects from large distances. So willing to just destroy the host body for a mere chance at delivering a fatal or killing blow.
And as for the other method? When their mortals forces weren't enough, they could always taunt whatever they were fighting to step into their domain. In a world mirroring reality, these beings could safely unleashed the full might of their power without fearing retributions from the world itself.
"Ah mortal." The 'Kami' turned in his direction, empty sockets glowing like two moons but even through without those organs, it still somehow sent him a rather condescending look. As though they were so content and sure in their power...or maybe this being had grown accustomed to the apparent weakness of modern Practitioners. Or maybe, it had just gotten drunk on its' own identity. Whatever the reason, such a face was well suited for slapping. "You stand before the Kami of the Moon, son of Izanami and Izanagi, the pair Creators, Tsukuyomi. For interfering matters beyond your means, I should have you erased. But, I am a merciful Kami. You will serve as my follower for the rest of your days, and then and only then will your sins be forgiv-"
Like teacher like student, a sudden blow came streaming into existence. Booming through the air, breaking and expelling massive rings of force. There, Iori stood not even a few feet away. One hand outstretched, open palm coming down with the might of lightning strike. Tearing through the air powerfully enough to ignite the splayed fingers a blazed. That inky river swirling around them, forming a ring.
A harsh and loud sound of flesh striking flesh rung out through the country side. Maybe it would be brought in the local news tonight as an unknown phenomenon. People wondering what in the world could ever cause such a racket.
"Y-you?!" The vesseled Kami, Tsukuyomi, snapped their back in place. Their mortal puppet's face flaking over like poorly made gift-wrapping paper. Exposing not flesh, bone or teeth but a vast azure sky. Twinkling stars from unknown realities sparked and faded into existence. "YOU DARE?! YOU, A MERE MORTAL DARE TO STRIKE A KAMI???!!!"
'If she wasn't surviving this before, there's no way she's going to now.' Sure, he might've playing around with that slap but it was hard enough to make a Kami stagger. Not something a healthy mortal in the prime of their lives could survive, much less Kiyoko in her old age. Anyone else would've just exploded into a bloody mist, but vessels cheat. Temporarily at least. With this Kami's power keeping her body together, the damage had been mitigated. 'Sacrifices must be made, who else can claim they slapped a deity?'
"INSOLENT!"
The Kami looked right about ready to throw a temper tantrum, a nepo baby not getting their way was always a pleasant sight to see. It kind-of made him want to-
Again, with more force this time, his hand blurred. Muscles contracting, nerve ending firing, a loose fist rocketed forward faster than the eyes could catch. Knuckles crashed against flesh. And the Kami's head snapped in the other direction.
If it's vessel wasn't dead before, then that certainly made sure that even the most skilled of healers wouldn't be able to save the woman's life.
'I couldn't help myself.' Even he looked down at his hand in bewilderment, it had felt pretty good the first time around. Good enough that even the mere thought of doing it again made his hand spasm, like a hungry wolf licking raw meat. 'Was this how those old monsters felt? If so, then no wonder no divine envoy was ever sent into their territory. Loosing one in such a demeaning way must strike them right where it hurts. Their pride.'
The Kami, now enraged, remnants of it's vessel's face twisting into an absolutely feral expression didn't hold back and used a single foot to slam itself back out of his arm's reach. Divine energy churning, bubbling through the fragile skin to form a thick cloud that took a few moments to morph into a miniature moon behind it's figure. Just looking at the miracle, would inspire a since of awe in the hearts of mortals.
But as for those that could see beyond? It was a sight for sore eyes. On a microscopic level, the 'moon' itself was composed of enumerable intricate runes and symbols so tightly packed togeher that it gave the illusion of a solid white shape. Little embers sparked, collecting at the vessel's feet. Rising into the air, with that energy structure as a background, the being looked down on the foolish mortal.
"You are no longer worthy of serving me." Tsukuyomi intoned gravely, as though that in itself was a punishment. "Your death will be slow and arduous, I will play your screams for all to hear for the next decade with each New Moon, your final struggle will be a warning to all who dare to oppose me!"
Instead of replying, Iori simply looked down at his hand. A desire rising to the surface, sweet and sickly. Vying for his attention. An insidious thought so tauntingly delicious, it would be a crime not to indulge.
'If slapping a mere vessel felt that good….then what would slapping an actual deity feel like?' A darker thought flashed into existence. 'If that if that feels as good as it seems, then would killing one turn me into a full blown addict?'