Thirty-one years ago, the world changed forever. The rise of the Legion of Shadow marked the dawn of a new era-one of fear, oppression, and absolute control. Believing their authoritarian rule was the only way forward, they seized power by force, reshaping the world in their image.
The first nation to fall was Japan-the birthplace of the Legion. Their conquest began with the brutal assassination of the emperor, followed by the complete eradication of the government. From its ashes, the Legion established its own regime, with a single man at its head-Mugen.
Mugen was an imposing figure, his pale complexion stark against the waves of his black hair. His crimson eyes burned with eerie intensity, a reflection of his ruthless ambition. He did not dress like a warlord but like a businessman-sleek black button-up, tailored dress pants, and polished shoes. To the world, he appeared as a man of power and influence. In reality, he was something far worse-a conqueror without mercy.
After securing Japan, Mugen set his sights on the United States. But he did not send an army. He did not rely on subordinates. He stormed the White House alone.
He had never respected the U.S. government, nor its leader-President Donald Trump. The Secret Service moved to intercept him, but to Mugen, they were nothing more than insects in his path.
With effortless precision, he cut them down, his blade carving through flesh as if slicing paper. The sword he wielded was long and curved, its intricate guard and black handle radiating an ominous presence.
Step by step, he advanced until he reached the Oval Office. Trump was waiting, fear written across his face.
"W-what do you want?" he stammered. "Please, I'll do anything... I don't want to die."
Mugen smirked-cruel, almost amused. "This country belongs to me now," he said. "And you... you will serve me."
Trump swallowed hard. He wasn't a moral man, and he knew it. But surrendering the United States? That was a line he couldn't cross. His mind raced. Then, it hit him.
Slowly, he reached into his suit, fingers wrapping around a concealed device-a trigger for a missile strike against Japan. If he was going down, he would take the Legion's home base with him.
But before he could press the button, pain exploded through him. He gasped, eyes widening as blood gushed from the stump where his hand had been.
Mugen stood before him, his blade dripping red. His glowing eyes locked onto the wounded man. "That," he said coldly, "was your last mistake."
Trump fell to his knees, clutching his severed wrist. "P-please-"
His plea was cut short-literally. With a single swing, Mugen severed his head. The last leader of the free world was no more.
And for good measure, Mugen obliterated the White House.
With the United States crushed, the rest of the world followed. No one dared to resist. One by one, governments surrendered, unwilling to suffer the same fate.
The Legion of Shadow had won. The world belonged to Mugen.
A year later, two children were born in Japan-both destined for greatness, yet forged in tragedy.
The first was a girl, born into the noble Arashi family, renowned for its power. But the Arashi carried a secret: they could control fire. Not ordinary fire-blue fire, a rare and deadly force capable of reducing even the strongest foes to ash. Their flames were both a blessing and a weapon, feared by those who knew of them.
The girl was named Miyuki.
Elsewhere, a boy was born under different circumstances. Unlike Miyuki, his origins were not of this world.
Kazuma was a demon.
Not a half-breed, not a corrupted human-a true demon, born of the underworld. He was not alone in this; the world teemed with demons, creatures of chaos and destruction. Some lurked in the shadows, hiding among humans, while others reigned over entire realms. Among them were warriors of unimaginable power, and Kazuma was born into the lineage of the strongest.
His kind were nearly unkillable. Wounds healed in moments. Even lost limbs regrew. The only way to kill a demon was with a weapon crafted from a special metal known as viridescent-anything less was meaningless.
But unlike his brethren, Kazuma did not seek war.
He did not crave destruction or dominion. He turned his back on the underworld, choosing his own path. But the Legion-dedicated to eradicating demons and supernatural beings-would not allow it.
For years, he fled. Hunted, wounded, forced to fight for survival.
Kazuma was no ordinary demon. He wielded the power of lightning itself, moving faster than the eye could track, teleporting in bursts of energy. And beyond that, he possessed something far more dangerous.
The Demon Rage Drive (DRD).
A transformation unique to the highest-ranking demons, DRD was a state of pure destruction. When activated, his sclera turned pitch black, his power multiplied tenfold, and his physical abilities reached monstrous levels. Even the Legion feared it.
Somewhere along the way, Kazuma and Miyuki's paths crossed.
By then, both had suffered unimaginable losses. The Legion had wiped out their families, leaving only a handful of survivors scattered across the country. Alone, neither stood a chance.
Together, they became something more.
For years, they fought side by side, waging war against the Legion, striking from the shadows. They became symbols of the growing resistance-feared by their enemies, revered by those who still dared to fight.
And through it all, something impossible happened.
Miyuki, a descendant of celestial blood, should have despised demons. Her ancestors had fought against their kind for generations. Yet, she did not see a monster when she looked at Kazuma.
She saw a warrior who had saved her life.
A man who, despite his power, sought something greater than war.
Someone worth loving.
Eventually, they fell in love.
Miyuki became pregnant, and for the sake of their child, they made a choice. They would not just be warriors locked in an endless war-they would be a family.
They married, stepping away from the battlefield, leaving the resistance in the hands of Aya Takamura, a former Legion soldier they had rescued. She swore to continue the fight in their place.
For six years, Kazuma and Miyuki lived in peace. A peace they had bled for.
A peace they thought might last.
But peace never lasts forever.
It began with a knock at the door. The air outside was calm, but something felt wrong. Kazuma stood, instincts sharp, and walked toward the entrance.
The moment he opened it, his eyes locked onto the cloaked figure standing before him, the red gleam of his eyes cutting through the darkness of his hood.
"Miyuki, get the kids," Kazuma ordered, his voice edged with urgency. "Go. Now."
Without hesitation, Miyuki grabbed their sons and rushed them to the car. She barely got them settled when gunfire tore through her torso. Pain flooded her body, but she refused to stop.
Blood soaked her clothes, but her focus remained sharp. With a final glance at her family, she gripped the wheel and sped off into the night, bullets ringing out behind her.
Back at the house, Kazuma summoned his weapon-Raikari.
A blade forged in the depths of the underworld, Raikari crackled with crimson lightning, raw power barely contained within its cursed edge. One day, it would belong to his children.
Mugen stepped forward, unsheathing his own monstrous weapon-an Odachi, black as midnight, its edge gleaming with unnatural darkness.
Then, they clashed.
Lightning met shadow, each strike sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Kazuma fought like a demon unleashed, his blade carving arcs of crimson energy through the air.
But his enemy was relentless. Faster. Stronger.
Still, Kazuma refused to fall.
For Miyuki. For his sons.
But in the end, even demons have limits.
With one final strike, Mugen's blade pierced his chest.
Kazuma Hinoki-the Unkillable Storm-was dead.
The cloaked figure turned toward the wrecked car where the boys lay unconscious. "Take them," he commanded. "They will serve us."
As the sun rose, the world trembled under the weight of tragedy.
But the sons of the fallen heroes would rise again.