Chapter 1: The Shadow That Walks Among Light
Thunder rolled across a world soaked in blood. On a jagged cliff, black flames licked the air, casting monstrous shadows upon a battlefield littered with corpses—humans, demons, spirits—all fallen silent.
A solitary figure with long black hair, clothed in darkness, stood vigil. His crimson eyes burned with a weight only a ruler could bear. In his hand lay Breseark, the black katana that had ended a thousand wars.
"Peace... always comes at the price of blood."
Azrael thrust his blade into the shattered earth, unleashing a surge of black energy that sealed rifts and quieted the screams of reality. For a moment, all was still.
A thousand years later... Earth, 2019.
Dawn broke over a peaceful village, where mana-powered machines hummed and children chased glowing orbs. Rael—an unremarkable young man with ancient eyes—carried groceries through the fields, his presence calming the very air around him.
"Morning, Rael! Working hard as usual?" a villager greeted, unaware of the true power behind that peaceful expression.
Rael smiled faintly. "Someone has to keep the fields alive."
"You're too quiet, kid. With your aura control, you'd be at least B-rank if you joined the guild!" said another.
Rael turned away, uninterested. Rankings mean nothing to someone who just wants peace.
He passed into the mana-lit fields, the wind almost bowing to his quiet strength.
But peace is always fleeting.