Eternal Swordsman – Chapter 1: BEAST
Hiruko Kyotetsu, sixteen, renowned for his athletic talent but academically unremarkable, rushes through the courtyard of Tetsuryūryū Dojo, the night air damp with the scent of ozone. His royal‑blue, ragged hair crisply reflects the dojo's hanging lanterns. Late as usual.
Inside, Sensei Siete frowns at his tardiness. In frustration, he orders an impromptu sparring match: "Face Buroue," he commands. Hiruko squares off automatically—with a excitement. Within seconds, he dispatches Kohei with a well‑placed strike. The entire hall stills.
Hiruko's feat infuriates his teacher. Without warning, Sensei Siete storms in, fists flying. But Hiruko's reflexes—honed by countless track sprints and field training and also just pure talent—prove effortless. He blocks each blow and counters with fluid precision. The teacher staggers back, stunned. Silence fills the dojo.
At that moment, the headmaster, a tall, steel‑eyed old man named Master Rika, steps between them. He raises a hand, stopping the fight.
Later, in his office—walls of dark wood and scrolls of martial discipline—he studies him. "You are... unnatural. If you continue like this," he says quietly, "you could become the greatest this dojo no— this world—has ever seen."
As he speaks, Hiruko shifts restlessly in his seat. He leaves his office with that phrase echoing in his mind.
Outside, under the fading twilight, he pauses by a weathered statue outside the shrine entrance. He speaks aloud, almost to the night wind:
"Unnatural… the absolute best? That's impossible." He crosses his arms and huffs. "Maybe I'm just not that strong."
On the dojo's TV screen, a news clip plays: reporters describing strange, shadowy figures drifting near city outskirts unexplainable.
Hiruko snorts. "Ghost stories, please."
A fellow martial student—lean, quiet—chimes in beside him: "Sometimes you gotta believe… even in things you don't know or believe."
The dojo lights dim as staff lock the gates. Hiruko steps out, evening settling into thick ink as Hiruko makes his way home.
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The narrating voice—omniscient, chilling—drifts in as darkness deepens:
> In the human world, negative emotions—anger, hatred, jealousy, despair—collect negative great weight. In another realm, this vile energy spawns endless nightmare creatures. When it grows too vast, it tears the veil between worlds. These monstrosities emerge into our reality a whole different phenomenon, Kage no Kemono.
The air shivers; space warps. A Kage no Kemono bursts through the rift—a hideous behemoth of shadow so dark it drinks light. Towering, massive, its skin pitch-black, red eyes burning like embers, and a grotesque purple tongue drenched in saliva. Fangs jagged like broken glass.
It roars "Human…" in a guttural hiss.
Hiruko freezes, face draining of color. He bolts—the softness of grass giving way to gravel, then cold asphalt. Every sound echoes: his own ragged gasps, the beast's thunderous footfalls, tearing air. Streetlights flicker, casting long shadows as he dashes into narrow alleys.
The beast gains—its heavy mass thunders steps behind him. Without warning, it slams him with a colossal fist. Hiruko crashes into a wall, breath gone. He crumples, pain flaring across ribs.
Desperate, he scrambles to a fallen steel rod—an old guard‑rail. He grips it, swinging with raw fear as fuel. The beast snarls and lashes out, smashing him against concrete. His vision blurs, blood and sweat mingling.
As darkness encroaches—death's whisper—Hiruko's mind flashes to his father's face: the man who raised him cared for him all his life. Resolve surges within his chest.
"No… I have to live. For Dad… even if I have to kill you."
His royal‑blue eyes ignite with determination. A faint pale-blue glow flickers there, rising. The moon overhead shivers and pulses, as if responding. From its pale face descends—blurring light in motion—a katana, streaking downward like a celestial spear.
The blade lands before him in the alley—a moment of great silence. Hiruko lifts it. Power floods through his arms, spine, heart: karma energy—vast, with the colour blue, luminating.
The beast lunges. Hiruko steadies the katana: its steel edge hums, swirling with great energy. In one decisive strike, the blade cleaves through flesh and shadow. The beast's roar halts mid‑stream—its form fractures and dissipates like mist in sunlight. Its headless torso collapses; silence falls.
Hiruko collapses beside the katana, exhausted, trembling: "It's... over."
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He staggers upright, chest heaving. The katana lies before him, glowing faintly in the moonlight that peeks through a break in clouds. He reaches for it, gingerly.
He whispers: "I… I shouldn't tell Dad about this. He wouldn't believe me anyway."
The blade's glow dims, the moonlight softens, and Hiruko takes a trembling breath. The quiet tension between worlds lingers as the real world resumes its stillness but for him it will be a whole lot different.
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End of Chapter 1
Hiruko Kyotetsu: an athletic teenager, struggling academically, overshadowed by his own emerging supernatural strength. The arrival of the Kage no Kemono, the night‑torn sword from the moon, and the awakening of karma energy mark the dawn of a fate beyond martial training.