Episode 112B – The Demon King

Episode 112B Show Notes

Source: Japanese Folklore

• This week on MYTH, it’s the epic conclusion to the harrowing tale of Raiko and the Goblin King.  You’ll see that gods have a different definition of poison, that you shouldn’t count your goblins before they hatch, and that it always pays to be careful.  Then, in Gods and Monsters, we’ll visit one of the most iconic mountains in all of Japan, if not the world. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory.  Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them.  This is Episode 112B, “The Goblin King”.  As always, this episode is not safe for work.
• Hey everyone, and welcome back! I won’t know how I did for a few months yet, but it still feels damn good to have it behind me either way. Thanks for bearing with me while, you know, life happened. Last time, we met the wandering warrior Minamoto no Yorimitsu, better known as Raiko – a real person who became a legendary hero. With his band of wandering ronin, they fought the good fight and defeated evil wherever they found it. In this particular case, the Emperor of Japan himself had summoned Raiko and his merry band to infiltrate the mountain stronghold of Shutendoji the Goblin King. This foul fiend was sneaking into Kyoto and the surrounding area to kidnap children and youths to serve as slaves in his court before being butchered for a bloody cannibalistic feast. The six warriors had disguised themselves as itinerant monks on a holy pilgrimage and headed up the mountain. After getting some magical poisoned wine from the gods, they had run into the princess (or at least a princess) who had escorted them past the guards and in to see Shutendoji himself. He had cackled gleefully at the sight of this unexpected bounty of succulent priest flesh, pretended to welcome them, and then invited them to be his guests for dinner. Both sides were aware that this was kind of a soylent green situation – Shutendoji fully meant to have them as dinner, not as dinner guests.
• Raiko and his false monks all nodded in pretend acceptance. Delighted, the red-skinned demon clapped his hands both in delight and in summons. Instantly, the partitions that made up the room’s walls slid apart revealing a group of beautiful maidens dressed in elegant robes. They bore large, ornate wine glasses, jars of fine sake, and dishes of succulent fish of all kinds, which they placed carefully in front of the goblin king and his supposed guests. Raiko watched the young ladies out of the corner of his eye. He recognized them – these were, of course, some of the missing. They seemed like the daughters of nobility forced to work as the handmaidens of the Goblin king. All kept their faces carefully neutral, but he could see the telltale signs of weeping on each and every face. Raiko swore silently that they would be free of their bondage no matter what it took.
• As the great wine cups were placed on the table, Raiko seized his chance. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out his own sealed jar of sake. As you may recall, this was the magical wine known as Shimben-Kidoku-Shu gifted to the wandering warriors by the gods; they had told him that this wine would be perfectly safe for humans but would prove a deadly poison for any goblins. “My gracious host – we have brought this sake from our temple on Mount Haguro. I fear it is a very common wine, unfit for your splendid table and unworthy of your gracious self, but it is all we have. As humble monks, we find it quite refreshing after a weary day of walking and find that it cheers our sagging spirits. It would be a great honor if you would join us in drinking this wine.”
• Shutendoji was an absolutely horrible piece of shit and so he of course loved to have people kiss the ring as it were. The fact that these dipshits were offering him gifts when he fully planned to murder and eat them later just made the whole thing all the sweeter. He was therefore delighted at this courtesy and all too happy to join them in a toast to his own health. Handing over his enormous cup to one of his handmaidens to be filled, Shutendoju smiled widely. “I’m sure this sake is perfectly fine – I would be happy to try it with you.” Raiku filled the cup with a small, humble bow and the goblin king drained it in one massive gulp.
• After it was gone, he smacked his lips noisily. “That was…delicious, actually. Maybe the best wine I’ve ever had. More!” Raiko hid his delight at this turn of events. He’d been a little worried that the poisoned wine wouldn’t taste terribly good, but here their target was demanding seconds. This was going perfectly. “I am pleased to hear that our Honorable Host finds our poor country wine acceptable. Please, have as much as you like. While you drink, perhaps my brothers and I could entertain you with our dancing?” The demon nodded as he drank. 
• At a signal, the other fake monks began to chant melodiously while Raiko himself danced to the rhythmic beat. He wasn’t a terribly gifted dancer but he was an excellent swordsman. Since the goblins had never actually seen men dance before (which surprises me – I would have expected them to force their captives to perform but I guess not), no one noticed any oddities in the performance. Growing drunker and more merry, Shutendoji shared the wine with his goblin attendants who all drank as much as they could hold. The human handmaidens on the other hand eyed the poor monks sadly and whispered amongst themselves. They figured that the wanderers were about to become the main course and were spending their last hours of life graciously giving gifts to and entertaining their future murderers. It was a depressing sight (if you weren’t in on the secret that you, me, and the ronin know, at least). 
• The magic was already at work. Everyone was still feeling jolly and raucous but also very, very sleepy. All of the goblins had drunk themselves silly on the jar of sake (which had the side benefit of making them all too drunk to notice that the jar somehow managed to never run out of sake, no matter how much was poured). One by one, they began to stretch out on the benches, the tables, and even the floors. They crawled into piles in the corners or drooled in their cups where they lay. Wherever they happened to be, every last stinking goblin fell into a deep, magical sleep. One by one, they each began to snore; the combined cacophony was so loud that it literally shook the walls, but none of the goblins stirred. They were out like a fucking light.
• Giving the nearest snoring form a kick, Raiko stood. “Alright people – time to get to work.” In unison, the men discarded their monk robes and replaced them with armor, helmets, and weapons. Properly geared up, the ronin knelt to pray to the gods and spirits who had helped them get this far. Heads bowed, palms pressed together, they thanked their patrons for their gifts and asked for aid in this final hour of need. I’m not sure how much help you really need to coup-de-grace a room full of magically drugged goblins, but I’m no expert.
• In response, a golden light filled the room as a radiant cloud materialized in the center. From its heart stepped three deities – the same three who had responded before back for an encore. “Well done, great Raiko. Fear not – we have bound the hands and feet of these demons fast. They are no threat to you. Have your men cut off Shutendoji’s limbs but you, Raiko – you cut off his head. Once that’s done, slaughter the rest of the oni and your work will be done.” The cloud vanished and with it, the three gods.
• Rejoicing at this vision and message, Raiko stood and his men followed suit. Swords drawn and raised, they advanced carefully on the sleeping goblin king. He was soused to the gills on god poison, but they were taking no chances. Oni could be fucking tricky, and this one in particular was a nightmare. The assembled princesses saw this transformation from humble holy men to flashing-eyed warriors and realized that something very, very good was happening. Some wept aloud, some shouted with joy, and some dropped to their knees and thanked the gods for their imminent salvation. They joined hands and begged the knights to slay the demons and save them from this wretched prison. 
• Stalking over to the slumbering demon with swords raised high, Raiko and his men prepared for the final blow (which was also the first blow). With a grunt of effort, he brought his blade whistling down on Sutendoji’s neck, which was as huge and thick as a barrel. The cut was clean and true and the head fell cleanly away from the body. And that’s when shit hit the fan. Instead of just, you know, rolling away with a blank expression on its face, the decapitated head soared into the air instead wearing an expression of murderous rage. So it turns out these guys weren’t just being ridiculously cautious about a coup-de-grace on an incapacitated foe. You don’t get to be the goblin king by collecting bottle caps.
• Snorting smoke and flame, the head bobbed and weaved and then dove at Raiko. The warrior’s sword flashed out but the head dodged aside, belching a scalding stream of fire. Fortunately for our hero, the dazzling glitter of the flames on the ronin’s polished helmet momentarily blinded the demon head and the strike flew wide. Instead of being roasted alive, Raiko was scorched painfully but not fatally. As the demon paused to clear its eyes (which is harder to do without hands), Raiko brought his steel down upon it with terrible power. Split open by the mighty blow, Sutendoki’s head finally fell to the ground dead.
• At this incredible feat of martial prowess, the assembled kidnapped handmaidens cheered for their rescuers. Which was a mistake. The king was dead, sure, but his horde was not. At this cacophony, they roused from their magical drunken stupor and stumbled to their feet. Seeing armed and armored warriors standing over the corpse of their lord, they screamed in rage and attacked. Luckily, the potent anti-goblin wine was still having a powerful effect on them. Rather than overwhelming the six mortal warriors in an instant under the weight of sheer numbers, they tripped and stumbled and got in each other’s way as much as they helped out. It was still a closely fought battle with the many oni doing their best to take Raiko’s band into hell with them, but the divine gift of the wine tipped the balance. After five blood-drenched minutes, the corpses of the goblins littered the castle like the fallen leaves of autumn after a storm.
• The captives (many of whom were princesses in their own right, or had been before being kidnapped), once again cheered for their heroes. This time, it was actually over. They rushed Raiko and his men, clutching at their sleeves and thanking them profusely for this great and mighty deed. Their joyous voices were just barely loud enough to drown out the moans of the dying from all around them. With Shutendoji and his monstrous horde dead, the way lay open for Raiko’s band to lead the captives away from this charnel house of horrors and back to Kyoto and their families.
• Being experienced mercenaries however, they knew not to come back without a trophy. The captives had been much of the point of this expedition, but ending the threat of the goblin king once and for all had been very much a part of the deal. To make sure that no penny-pinching nobles tried to welch on part of the payment on a technicality, they tied the severed head of Shutendoji up with a stout rope and five of the men carried it down the mountain because this SOB was just that fucking big. As they made their way into the city with the survivors, word of their arrival spread through the city like wildfire. 
• Before they had made it more than a few streets, people had begun to throng along their path to welcome the returning heroes and see the rescued youths with their own eyes. As they headed towards the Emperor’s palace, relieved parents shouted for joy at seeing their beloved children miraculously alive and returned to them. I have to imagine that there were also a few wails of despair as the families of those who had been butchered before Raiko had arrived received final, terrible confirmation that their children were indeed dead and all hope was truly gone. Those who did reclaim their lost families however showered their rescuers with praise and gifts in equal measure.
• The goblin king’s head was paraded through the city and up to the Emperor himself as mute witness of the end of his tyrannical reign. Between that grisly trophy and the awed recountings of the daring rescue from the returned princesses, the Emperor was also deeply impressed with Raiko for pulling off the impossible. He too showered him with kingly gifts and, more importantly, a substantial promotion in his rank in the Imperial Court. According to the actual history, Minamoto no Raiko was named the governor of Izu Province as well as serving in several high-ranking Court positions, including a secretary in the Ministry of War. The records show that much of his acclaim came from ending the threat of the Oyeyama bandits (and the goblins living on Mount Oye might just be a legendary version of that very real event). Supposedly, the Tokyo National Museum has the tachi (the long sword) Dojigiri, which means ‘slayer of Shutendoji’, which was wielded by Raiko. It is one of the Tenka-Goken, or the Five Swords Under Heaven – five of the most legendary swords in all of Japan. So if you find yourself in Tokyo one day, maybe take a trip over to see the sword that killed the Goblin King.
• And so with the monster slain and the princess rescued, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story.  This week’s sacred location is Mount Fuji.
• Located on the island of Honshu, Fugaku, also known as Mount Fuji, is the tallest mountain in Japan. It is an active volcano and, along with Mount Tate and Mount Haku, is one of the Three Holy Mountains. Being such a striking visual image, it is no surprise that it has captured imaginations for countless generations. In Shinto mythology, Konohanasakuya-hime is the goddess of the mountain, with dedicated shrines set up around the foothills to ward off volcanic eruptions. This particular tale begins in a little village in the foothills around Mount Fuji.
• Long, long ago, a young man named Yosoji lived in this little village with his mother, whom he loved very much. Unfortunately, an outbreak of smallpox burned through the village and Yosoji’s poor mother caught the disease. She fell very, very ill and Yosoji soon feared that each breath would be her last. Thus, he went to consult with the magician Kamo Yamakiko for a way to bring his mother back from the very shores of icy death. The magician consulted his arts and informed the young man that, to save his mother, he must journey to the slopes of the volcano and find a small stream that flowed down the southwestern slope from the peak. Once located, Yosoji must climb the extremely tall mountain to follow the stream until he found an ancient shrine to the God of Long Breath located somewhere near the stream’s distant source. Only water collected from this shrine along the stream would be able to heal his mother of her fatal infection.
• Grateful to finally have something concrete to do, Yosoji set out immediately for Mount Fuji. He followed the path eagerly until he came upon a fork where three paths diverged. He stopped and pondered, unsure of which way to go. Most people avoided the mountain if they could, so he had never really spent much time out here and he didn’t know the roads. As he hesitated, a beautiful young woman dressed entirely in spotless white approached him, stepping out from the forest that grew near the mountain’s base. “You look lost, young man. What troubles you?” He smiled at her, grateful for help. “I am indeed  a little lost. I’m trying to find the stream that flows from the shrine of the God of Long Breath so I can heal my mother, but I don’t know the way.” “Is that all? Follow me. The stream is this way.”
• Yosoji obediently followed after the mysterious girl as she led him up the mountain to the ancient shrine. She told him to drink his fill from the sparkling stream before dipping the gourd he had brought along for his mother. Once he was done, the girl led Yosoji back down the mountain to where they had first met. “See – that wasn’t so bad. Give your mother the water to drink when you get home. Meet me here again in three days – one dose isn’t going to be enough. See you soon!” And with that, she vanished back into the forest.
• The young man headed home, gourd carried carefully so that not so much as a drop spilled. After his mother drank from the gourd, he saw a definite improvement in her breathing but, as the girl had warned, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. As directed, Yosoji returned to the forking path in three days and repeated the process. As they parted ways again, the young woman told him to return again in three more days. All told, Yosoji repeated his pilgrimage to the shrine five times before his mother was finally healed. As it happened, the gourd he used was much larger than his mother could drink, so the rest of the shrine’s water was shared between other sick villagers each time. After the fifth and final visit, all of them were completely cured of smallpox and as healthy as they had ever been.
• Amazed and grateful at this unexpected reprieve, the villagers cheered Yosoji for his grit and courage. They also sent many fine gifts to the magician for his wise and timely advice, without which none of this would have been possible. For his part, Yosoji was an honest, humble young man and he felt embarrassed by all the attention. All he had really done was walk a bit and carry some water. It was the young woman who had really saved the day. Without her guidance, he never would have found the stream at all, let alone known to come back four more times.
• After some consideration, Yosoji decided that the only proper thing to do was to make one last trip to the crossroads to properly thank his guide. He’d been distracted by his errand and the heavy gourd the last time he’d seen her and didn’t feel that he truly thanked her as fully as she deserved for her help. He found the spot again, but she did not emerge as before to greet him. Nonplussed but still determined, Yosoji decided to head up to the shrine to the God of Long Breath itself. Maybe she was visiting it for her own reasons.
• When he arrived however, he was shocked to see that the previously strong stream had completely dried up. The sparkling water had been replaced with a dry, dusty bed that didn’t look like it had carried water in a long time. Surprised and more than a little sorrowful that this beautiful and special place seemed to have fallen, he nevertheless knelt down and offered a fervent prayer of thanks to his mysterious helper. He also asked whatever gods might be listening that the young woman might appear before him herself so that he could say all of this to her face as she rightly deserved. Bowing his head for a moment of silence, Yosoji then stood up to find the young woman standing before him.
• He immediately dropped back to his knees to thank her profusely for her help and for his mother’s health (and the health of the other villagers, which hadn’t been part of the original request but was deeply appreciated). He begged her to tell him her name so that he could bless it and give credit where it was due, but she refused. It was a gentle refusal delivered with a kind smile, but a refusal all the same. He accepted this with as much grace as he could muster, prompting another smile. Reaching up, she plucked a branch of camellia (a beautiful blossoming flower) and waved it through the air. The gesture seemed to Yosoji almost like beckoning an invisible spirit from far, far away. 
• In response to the flowers, a cloud rose up from the peak of Mount Fuji and floated directly towards her. It enveloped her completely in its misty embrace and then returned to the mountain peak. The girl, of course, was gone – carried away by the cloud back to the sacred mount. It was then that Yosoji realized that it had been none other than the goddess of Mount Fuji herself that had aided him in his quest. He knelt there in the shrine looking up towards her with an expression of mingled rapture, gratitude, and love. When it was gone from his sight, he looked down to find a single brilliant blossom of camellia – a token of her love for the young man in return.
• That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated.  Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth, on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod, and on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated.  You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line.  I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated.  The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff. 
• Next time, we’ll catch up once again with our old friend Lacplesis the Bearslayer. You’ll discover that Germans make good villains, that even ancient tales had training montages, and that giants are very real. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll meet Smokey the Bear’s mysterious, mischievous cousin.  That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.