Blood on the Lotus[1]
By the time mortals began to build civilizations, society had already been divided into four ranks.
At the top stood the Hoshika — the Priests: seers, shrine maidens, and oracle priests believed to be chosen by the heavens themselves. They read omens, guided rulers, and even advised armies.
"The heavens have spoken," a Hoshika would say—and no one dared question it.
Next came the Takano — the Nobles. Descendants of emperors or gods, they ruled the land and commanded armies. Their bloodlines were seen as pure, their authority unquestioned, their right to rule… destined.
Below them were the Minori — the Commoners: farmers, craftsmen, and merchants—the backbone of the realm. They fed the empire, built its wealth, and kept it alive. Some among them, like merchants and landowners, held quiet power through wealth. But most had no choice. They labored endlessly, drafted into royal armies or bound to fields they did not own.
At the very bottom lived the Kage — the Slaves and Outcasts. Bound by debt or birth, they lived unseen and unheard. Denied education and dignity, many were sent to fight in the very armies that oppressed them. Legends claimed they were cursed—untouchable by the blessed.
"They must be marked," the Hoshika decreed.
And so, under a priest's watch, Kage elders cut the earlobes of their newborns within a week of birth—a cruel mark of identity. Any child found without it was executed. Any attempt to save a child meant death for both the one who tried and the one who carried them away.
No one spoke against it. Because in this world, even silence was enforced…
As time passed, the Hoshika, Takano, and powerful Minori tightened their grip on the Kage. Bound by fear and belief, the Kage obeyed the Hoshika without question. But not all remained silent. Some rose in secret, forming underground gangs that whispered rebellion into the dark:
"We are the same flesh and blood… so why are we treated as less?"
Their voices spread—but so did the consequences. The Takano and wealthy Minori struck back with brutal force. Men and women alike were punished, beaten, and broken. Even the innocent suffered for the defiance of a few. Under such cruelty, many rebels faltered… stepping back, if only slightly.
Yet rebellion did not die—it changed. Some Kage, driven by desperation, turned to theft. They believed that if they could seize wealth and power from the nobles, they could rise above their fate. Over time, the Kage split into two groups.
The Shrouds—those who had lost faith in rebellion and wished for peace, even negotiation.
And the rebels—those who still chose to fight.
Ironically, the Shrouds suffered the most. With fewer Kage working as soldiers or farmers, the land began to weaken. The higher ranks grew angrier—and their anger fell hardest on the Shrouds. They were forced into labor, starved, and beaten to work beyond their strength.
"Work… or starve," they were told.
Many could not endure it. Some collapsed. Some never rose again. In the end, the Shrouds were given a cruel demand:
"Stop the rebels. Unite your kind under obedience… and your old wages will return. Until then—you are nothing more than tools."
And so, trapped between fear and survival, the Shrouds were forced to choose—between their own people and their own lives.
The Lower Minoris
Amid the growing unrest, the lower-ranking Minoris watched everything closely—and slowly, painfully, came to a realization. They had once been the backbone of the Lotus Continent's military. But now, they were reduced to mere guards for the higher Minoris—ordered, controlled, and looked down upon.
"We are Minoris… then why are we treated like Kage?" one of them whispered.
Though they belonged to the same rank, they were humiliated far more—given fewer benefits, less respect, and harsher burdens. The line between them and the Kage had begun to blur. As the violence deepened, they observed the Kage more carefully—especially the rebels.
They saw how these rebels looted without cruelty, often sparing lives even when their own lives were not spared. They saw them protect their weaker kind—something the higher Minoris had never done.
And that changed something within them.
"Our suffering only grows… while they stand for their own," another said quietly.
At last, they chose to act. Sensing the shift, the higher ranks called for a conference.
"Why this defiance?" they asked, their tone calm—but firm.
The lower Minoris did not ask for power. Not for wealth.
"Treat us fairly. Give us what is just."
But the answer was as expected.
Denied.
Silence followed… then resolve.
"Then we will stand with the Kage."
The higher authorities tried to reason with them.
"You are not outcasts. You can still rise. Unlike the Kage—you have a future."
But the lower Minoris had already made their choice.
"If rising means becoming like you… we refuse."
In a final act of defiance, they did the unthinkable.
Under the watch of a Hoshika, they marked themselves—cutting their own earlobes and bearing the same sign as the Kage.
Not by birth.
Not by force.
But by choice.
The Birth of the Crimson Vows
When the lower Minoris reached the Kage villages, they searched for the rebel group for days. When they finally found them, they were not welcomed—only watched.
One Minori was taken for questioning.
"Why are you here?" the rebels asked.
"To stand with you," came the answer.
The rebels listened, learned their story, and let them stay—but only with a condition: food and supplies would be shared. The Minoris neither accepted nor refused. Trust had not yet been earned.
Then came the turning point. The higher authorities, fearing this alliance, sent trained assassins to wipe out the Minoris—and the rebels with them. But the Minoris' spy network uncovered the plan.
They warned the rebels at once.
"Leave. We will hold them back."
But that night, no one ran.
Instead, the rebels stood beside them. Side by side, they fought—protecting each other while helping the Shrouds escape. Blood was shed, but something deeper was born.
'Trust.'
After that night, everything changed. The rebels saw the Minoris were true to their word. The Minoris saw the rebels were not heartless thieves—but protectors of their own. Letters were exchanged. Words turned into understanding. Understanding turned into unity.
Soon, they began moving together—fighting, surviving, and even looting as one.
Then came the moment that would define them forever.
After that long night of battle, the God of War, Kayashi, is said to have witnessed their bond. Impressed by their loyalty, he granted them a sacred crimson seal—a mark of the vow they had forged in blood.
From that day on, they became known as the Crimson Vows.
Together, they chose a path of purpose. They would take from the powerful and give to the weak—the Shrouds.
And they lived by three unbreakable rules:
"We will not shed blood."• "We will not take everything from a person."•• "We will leave behind the crimson mark."
A glowing red fan became their symbol—a sign of justice, not fear.
But time does not spare even the purest vows. Slowly, something began to change. Some among them grew selfish. They kept more for themselves, helped only a chosen few, and began to forget their purpose.
Rules were broken.
Blood was spilled.
And from within the Crimson Vows, a darker name was born—
'The Black Fangs.'
They looted without restraint. They killed without remorse. Yet strangely, they targeted only a specific group, as if driven by something unseen. Even their mark changed.
The once-crimson sign turned black as midnight.
"Something… has corrupted them," people whispered.
And just like that, a vow made in blood… began to rot from within…..
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TO BE CONTINUED.....
[1] Sub Title