The Young Commander
In the capital, the fog was so thick that no one could see, leaving the streets empty of people.
The sound of footsteps... A group of thieves tried to take advantage of the silence to carry out a robbery. They ran at full speed like arrows shot through the shadows, looting everything in their path.
One of them rushed ahead, sprinting as fast as he could, but the fog soon turned into a blizzard that swept through the area. The temperature dropped suddenly, and snow began to encircle the place. The first thief tried to escape, but as the snow closed in on him, terror slithered into his heart like a cold serpent.
Fear froze his limbs, leaving him unable to move. The snow drew closer, ice creeping up his legs, and he screamed in pain. His veins froze, his hands stiffened, and as the ice advanced, it consumed another part of his body until it reached his head, silencing his last breath.
In an instant, he turned into an ice statue.
From the blizzard emerged a shadowy figure, his eyes glowing like embers, his sword still sheathed as if he wasn't taking this seriously. The others trembled in horror—they had just watched their friend turn into ice in mere seconds, and they couldn't utter a single word.
The one who had summoned the blizzard was Roku. He smiled coldly: "So, you're the ones who took advantage of the quiet."
The others tried to flee, abandoning their friend. Roku yawned: "How ungrateful. You'd leave your friend behind so quickly?"
With a wave of his hand, the air around him split, forming a sharp ice blade out of nowhere. It glimmered under the blizzard's light like a dagger from an eternal winter. He gripped it firmly, then hurled it at them with force. It shot through the air like a cannon, leaving behind a chilling whistle, as if the wind itself screamed its name.
When it struck one of them, it pierced straight through his body. He writhed in agony, his screams horrifying, until he died. Roku lunged forward, throwing his sword toward another. The moment the sword reached the thief's hand, Roku appeared before him out of thin air, reclaiming his blade. Blood sprayed as the fleeing man's hands fell to the ground. Before he could scream or react, his head followed. The last thief was sliced in half.
No one escaped Roku's grasp.
At just seventeen years old, Roku was the youngest commander in the capital. He was infamous for being the most brutal toward his enemies—either freezing them slowly to prolong their suffering or killing them in the most gruesome ways. He was the nightmare of anyone who dared rebel or attack the capital, considered the most ruthless of all commanders.
Above that world... there was another world.
A world shrouded in black clouds, under a sky devoid of light, with only a blood-red moon. This world was known as the **"Realm of the Rulers."
At its center stood a colossal palace, its hues a blend of black and crimson, as vast as an entire continent. Inside, a throne of bones and blood loomed.
Upon that throne sat a powerful entity, his crimson eyes embodying death, his long black hair flowing. In his hands, he held the skull of one of the strongest warriors, his fingers dripping with blood. This was Izanagi, the Ruler of the Fourth World.
Izanagi smirked wickedly. Suddenly, the sound of a door opening echoed, and a figure with a terrifying aura appeared. His robes bore lightning patterns, gold and deep blue. This was Ryuujin, the Ruler of Lightning and one of the Four Great Rulers.
Ryuujin bowed respectfully and said: "It seems you summoned me, Ruler of the Fourth World."
Izanagi tilted his head and spoke with overwhelming authority: "The Ruler of the Samurai has returned. I assume you're aware of his presence. I want you to crush him, Ryuujin."
Ryuujin grinned eagerly: "Don't worry. I'll make sure he's destroyed before he regains his full power. But not yet."
Izanagi smiled: "As you wish... Now, go."*
A flash of lightning tore through the silence, exploding around Ryuujin in a radiant golden aura. In the blink of an eye, he vanished.
Izanagi murmured: *+"I won't let you ruin everything, Ruler of the Samurai. Humans, Yokai, and beasts must fight... and we, the Rulers, shall watch to see who emerges victorious."
In a House
Takeru pounded on the door, shouting: *"Roku! Are you here?! Get out here now!"*
Several minutes passed with no response. Suddenly, a terrifying aura erupted from Takeru's body, like a timed bomb about to explode.
Inside, Roku was fast asleep, like a princess oblivious to the world. Without warning, Takeru unleashed a powerful lightning blast, obliterating the door.
Roku fell off his bed, drawing his sword in panic: "Are we under attack?! Who?! When?!"
Takeru smacked him hard on the head, yelling: "You bastard! Were you sleeping?!"
Roku blinked in confusion: "Yes... and what's the problem?"
Takeru punched him so hard he slammed into the floor. Roku groaned: "Alright, I apologize. I won't do it again."
After venting his anger, Takeru said: *"Good. At least you know your mistake."
Roku grinned mischievously: "So, what's the sudden visit for? Did you come to marry me to your daughter?"
Enraged, Takeru punched him again: "Alright! I'm sorry! I won't repeat it!"
Takeru continued: "I'll tell you the mission before I kill you if you say another word! The Emperor sent me to inform you—you're to go to the Ancient Kingdom, which was destroyed without warning."
Roku nodded: "Fine. I'll head there."
In the Ancient Kingdom...
The place was completely ruined. Nothing remained but the stench of corpses and blood. The air was suffocating, devastation stretching as far as the eye could see.
A blood-covered spear was lodged among the bodies. A hand emerged, pulling the spear from a lifeless corpse. It belonged to a powerful and terrifying being. He smirked, his voice dripping with malice:
"It seems things are about to get... more entertaining."
End of Chapter.