Naraka Tribe.
It is a small yet powerful demonic race that closely resembles an Oni. Their power and influence were small compared to the surrounding territory of the Gaap Kingdom territories and Blood lord's land shared by the Magma Zone and Werewolves tribes.
They relatively keep things among themselves and prefer to live in peace. However, they are a warrior clan and strength is their motto.
One said the child was Satsujindouji Gyakushin or Satsujin.
"I'm going to become the Hero of the Dark world."
This was a simple dream of a child who read stories about Heroes.
He was unique among their tribe. When he was only three his quiet and timid always cowering away in the simplest thing and crying when hurt.
However, when he read a story about a hero who saved the people in need and guided them through a life of pain becoming a light in the dark.
Satsujin wanted to become that light. He wants to become Hero. Though, his peers laugh at him. A hero? In the dark world? More so, Demon?
Only humans want to be a Hero. Unfortunately, a single moment is what it needs to change someone forever.
This filled Satsujin with overflowing purpose that he changed from a wimpy little boy to a monster among his peers.
His father. The tribe leader and the strongest did not dismiss his son's dream.
His father believed that a man's ambition should be able to reach the heavens. He tested and trained his son in many grueling labour to help him in his endeavours.
His physiology was already strong as he was Naraka and his mother who was a descendent of a Shura. A Shura was elusive and rare. Those who are born to be a Shura proved to be a powerful demon.
Satsujin mastered every fighting style taught by his father and trained his demonic power. His father was surprised when he asked to learn more about magic even though he was already powerful.
His father asked him why and he simply responded that learning magic could improve his technique and skills in combat. His father didn't ask anymore and brought him a Magic teacher who upon teaching Satsujin was left baffled as he mastered advanced magic within a week!
It normally takes a month or even a year to master and yet he was able to cast advanced magic with ease. Satsujin also studied Runes and mastered it as well.
His teacher was simply left in awe and his parents couldn't be more proud. In the end, Satsujin became a Battle Mage utilizing magic and Martial Arts.
When he faces a wall that prevents him from becoming stronger. Satsujin decided to learn other things instead because he knew it would help him realize a new perspective that he can apply to his training.
He decided to learn to make weapons and his father brought him to their finest blacksmith in which he showed his talent once again. Satsujin would create rather fine artifacts and weapons that were provided to their tribe.
Satsujin saw himself as a blade that he would forge and refine in the anvil and fire. This results in him breaking through and reaching a new stage of strength.
Of course, his father wasn't the only one helping him achieve his goal as his mother taught him in the scholar path teaching him everything he needs to know as a proper hero shouldn't only know to fight physically but also intellectually.
He was taught how to lead, manage and become someone dependable especially in scenarios where he is faced with choice. Satsujin showed unshaken determination as he studied countless subjects and accumulated vast amounts of knowledge.
And though their tribes follow a different hierarchy system, Satsujin was taught the noble monarchy system and how to deal with them when needed.
Furthermore, he was taught by his mother on how to charm a woman and make them happy. His father told him that since heroes often save heroine and gather women who would fall in love with them during their adventure, Satsujin would encounter such a thing.
To prevent him from becoming a dense person, His mother gladly teaches his son about women.
And no, get your mind out of the gutter. His mother simply taught him how to differentiate admiration, infatuation, attraction, and love. How to nurture and grow them. His mother will make sure his son makes many grandbabies to spoil.
He was an amazing cook and perfect husband for the future that any woman will be an idiot to lose him.
"I'm ready!"
A young boy with black hair and deep red skin as horns stood upwards like a crown. He appeared no older than ten even though he was already fifteen. Though he was fit for his ages still wasn't bulky like his father.
However, he exuded charm and allure that many of his female peers were all dying of thirst. If it wasn't for his training then he wouldn't know that they want to defile him.
"Hahahaha My boy, I couldn't be more proud seeing you reach this far even though I had my doubts but knew that I can't go against your destiny. Remember, your ambition shall also demand of you to have more than a wife. Are you ready for such sacrifice? To contend your love with many lovers?"
The tall muscular Oni laughed and seemed to shake the ground. He had a massive frame and muscles that were tightly packed and dense.
"Aye father, I shall bear the burden with pride and dedication! Not just for the sake of my role, but also to provide you and mothers with many grandchildren to spoil!"
The word Grandchildren seemed to please Satsujin's mother, especially since she felt her 'nest' was now empty and she looked forward to having many babies to pamper despite her husband's disturbed looks at having an army of little Satsujins around to deal with.
"Ah, I can't wait to see them! Make sure to call us as often you can with the magic artifact you made. I want to meet my daughter in law."
A beautiful woman with rosy lips and mesmerising eyes embraces Satsujin. His mother was one of the most beautiful women in the dark world and if it weren't for the fact she and her husband were powerful enough then many men would have come and taken her.
"Now son, tell me what our Motto!?" His father wildly grinned at his son.
"A man does not back down from a challenge!" His son shouted in pride and joy.
Alas, the journey was legitimized and the boy known as Satsujin, Son of the Naraka Tribe leader, began for good.
His first stop was to acquire the fairest and yet closest maiden in the northern lands: Lady Astaroth of the Burning Plains.
==========
The Magma Zone, also known as the Burning Plains, was infamous even among demons—often dubbed "Hell within Hell."
A relentless inferno of molten rivers and searing winds, it was a place only the hardiest of demons could cross unscathed—assuming they avoided both the scalding terrain and the ever-watchful blades of Lady Astaroth's knights. Most considered it a forbidden realm, entry permitted only through direct invitation from its sovereign.
But fools are never in short supply.
Ambitious young men, lured by stories of Lady Astaroth's beauty and power, regularly risked everything for a chance to impress her—only to find their egos swiftly crushed beneath the heel of her personal guard: the Queensguard.
Commanded by the unwavering Seer Wester, the Queensguard was a small but elite force—deadly, loyal, and fanatically devoted to their lady. Their sole purpose: to ensure that no intruder's nonsense ever reached Astaroth's ears. Whether at the borders or deep in the plains, they intercepted, silenced, and erased trouble before it could bloom.
But today's intruder was… different.
To Wester, a woman bound by duty and bearing the chivalric dignity of a knight, yet jaded by years of routine, another so-called warrior seeking an audience with her lady was nothing new.
What was new—what demanded her full attention—was that this warrior, barely more than a boy, had defeated three Queensguard.
And lived.
The battlefield trembled beneath the weight of battle as molten embers floated through the scorched air like dying stars. Across the blazing ground, three of the Queensguard—each one a seasoned slayer of intruders—encircled the boy.
And yet... he stood tall.
No weapon. No armor.
Only fists, fire, and unshakable resolve.
Seer Wester watched from a distance, her red eyes narrowed in scrutiny. She had seen countless would-be warriors reduced to ash by her comrades. But this one… this boy—he was different.
With a sharp exhale, Satsujin moved.
In an instant, he vanished from sight.
A gust of molten wind erupted where he once stood, and before the Queensguard could react, Satsujin struck—his fist colliding with one guard's chestplate like a thunderclap, sending the armored demon hurtling back, carving a trench across the scorched ground.
The second guard swung with a burning glaive, its blade trailing embers, aiming to cleave the boy in two.
But Satsujin ducked under the swing, his eyes glowing with fierce focus. His hand shot up, fingers curled into a spearhand strike, and he slammed it into a joint in the armor with surgical precision. The glaive wielder stumbled, stunned.
'He's not trying to kill them.'
Wester realized, her breath caught in her throat.
'He's holding back.'
The third guard lunged with twin daggers enchanted with hellfire, moving faster than most could follow.
But Satsujin pivoted, spinning midair with impossible grace, his heel catching one dagger mid-swing and knocking it skyward.
His counter-strike—an open palm—landed square on the guard's chest, sending a shockwave that cracked the ground beneath.
The boy landed silently, unburned by the molten terrain, steam rising off his skin as if the fire itself bowed to his will.
His breathing was calm. Controlled.
Each move was deliberate—measured with the precision of a master and the instinct of a born fighter. He could've ended them. Wester saw it clearly. Every opening, every vulnerable point—he had exploited them all.
But never fatally.
Instead, he fought as if he were sparring—testing himself. And as the fight wore on, his movements sharpened, his aura thickened, and his presence grew more intense.
'He's getting stronger… right before my eyes.'
One of the guards roared and summoned a massive obsidian greatsword, leaping high into the air. The blade descended like a falling star.
Satsujin raised his hand—and caught it.
The earth split from the force of the impact, but he did not yield. His muscles coiled, and with a defiant cry, he wrenched the sword aside, twisting and slamming the guard to the ground with a flawless judo throw that echoed like a drumbeat across the plains.
Wester's gauntleted hand clenched.
'He's not just strong… he's trained.'
Not like a brute, but like a scholar of war. Martial arts. Magic. Precision. Control.
A warrior in body.
A hero in heart.
As the dust settled and the last of the Queensguard lay defeated—but alive—Satsujin stood at the center of the battlefield, his body singed, his breath steady, and his red eyes glowing with an unshakable light.
He looked up toward the cliffs where Wester stood watching and she stepped forward, her cloak billowing with the rising heat of the plains, voice cutting through the haze like steel through silk.
"I am Wester, Seer of the Burning Plains and the most loyal knight to Lady Astaroth. Speak your name, child—what business brings you to the Burning Plains?"
The boy raised his head, pride gleaming in his crimson eyes.
"I am Satsujindouji Gyakushin, scion of the Naraka Tribe, son of our Chief, and the one who shall become Hero of the Dark World. I come seeking an audience with Lady Astaroth."
Wester's brow arched with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"And what purpose drives this bold journey, Lord Gyakushin? Why seek the presence of lady Astaroth?"
Satsujin did not hesitate. His voice rang with conviction, like a war drum declaring the rise of a new age.
"I intend to claim her as my first bride."
There was a pause—a silence heavy as a thundercloud. Wester's eyes narrowed, her fingers tightening around her blade's hilt.
"A bold tongue. Do you see my lady as a prize to be taken? A treasure to be owned? Is this the measure of your so-called heroism—possession?"
His response came swift, sharp, and filled with fire—not of rage, but of righteousness.
"No! I seek not slaves nor playthings. I seek equals. Wives, not captives. Queens, not conquests. I will cherish them as they deserve—stand beside them, fight for them, laugh and bleed with them. I will give my all, and in turn, be worthy of their hearts. That… is the path I walk."
Holy hells… the boy meant every word.
To Wester—a woman who appreciated the drama of battle and the grandeur of ancient tales—this moment struck a deep, almost mythic chord. It was like something plucked from the forgotten ballads of old: an errant knight declaring his noble intent before a flame-wreathed gate, his heart bared not for conquest, but for devotion.
A foolish fantasy, perhaps. And yet… something about it resonated.
A boy chasing the hand of a woman like Astaroth—if one could even call her a maiden—was laughable on the surface. But his conviction, his fire, the sheer sincerity burning in his voice… it stirred something in Wester's iron heart.
She was… impressed. And truthfully, she was already half-convinced. All that remained was proof.
"A valiant desire, Lord Gyakushin," she said, voice sharp yet laced with respect.
"But I'm afraid words alone are not enough to earn you passage."
Wester raised her hand, and demonic flame surged to life, wrapping around her body like a living mantle. Unlike the common red of hellfire, hers blazed with an intense blue hue, crackling with ancient magic and deadly elegance.
"Show me your will in combat. Fight me. Prove your worth. And if the gods favor you… I shall escort you to Lady Astaroth myself."