On the night of the Blood Moon, the world itself bled. Rain fell crimson, thunder roared like war drums, and the heavens carved a prophecy in fire: a child would be born, destined to shatter the balance of the ages.

The elders quaked. Some whispered, “He is the one—chosen to carry the will of the gods.” Others spat in fear, “No—he is ruin incarnate. Cast him out before the world burns.”

But fate does not bend to human fear.
The child lived. His name—Leo Fang.

Raised by a father whose very name could strike dread into kings, Leo’s laughter filled the fields, his blade struck with promise, his spirit burned brighter than steel. But shadows gathered.

The Four Legends came—not out of mercy, but out of terror. For they feared his father, a warrior too dangerous to live, and the child who carried his blood.

The village fell to fire and screams. His mother was silenced. His father stood defiant, carving wounds into legends before he, too, was slain. And then came the child, left in the embers.

They moved to end him. But the Blood Moon’s child does not die so easily.

His grief ignited into wrath. His eyes blazed with divine fire, his cry cracked the heavens, and in that moment—even the Legends bled. He severed the hand of one, scarred the flesh of others, and for the first time in centuries… they trembled.

But gods do not yet allow him victory. Their blades pierced his small body, and they left him broken, believing him dead.

Yet destiny refused to let go.
Leo Fang lived. Saved. Chosen. Waiting.

For his path is not of a warrior, but of something greater. Across trials, betrayals, and endless blood, he will climb—step by step—until the day comes when even the gods themselves must bow.

This is the story of the boy who defied death, the heir of the Blood Moon…
And by the time the final seals break—in Season 6 and 7—the world will witness the rise of a being beyond mortal comprehension.

The forest swallowed him whole. Each breath he took felt heavier than the last. Branches cracked under his feet, but the sound was drowned by whispers—low, haunting, endless.


Leo Fang's eyes darted left, then right. The voices didn't come from the trees or the wind, but from somewhere beyond. Something that no human tongue could carry.


Shadows stretched unnaturally across the bark, forming twisted figures. Their heads tilted at him, their hollow mouths opening and closing as if chewing on his existence.


"Born beneath the red moon… you will drown the world in blood…"


Leo clutched his chest, trembling. "Shut up… SHUT UP!" he shouted, his voice breaking against the weight of fear.


The illusions didn't stop. They grew clearer—ghostly silhouettes of the villagers he once knew, his father, his mother… all with lifeless eyes. They pointed at him.


His knees hit the dirt. His hands pressed against his head. "I didn't choose this! I didn't—!"


And then the sky darkened. A faint glow bled from the clouds—not moonlight, but something older. A god's gaze, watching.


The whispers deepened, vibrating in his bones:


"Ruin of Blood… destiny is not yours to escape…"


Leo's eyes flashed faint blue. His tears turned into rage. The shadows around him warped, recoiling as if they too were afraid.


He stood, trembling but alive. His fists clenched. His voice cracked, but fire burned within:


"I am not your pawn. I will decide what I become."


The illusions shattered like broken glass, the forest silent again. Only the gods knew the truth—that this boy was the Blood Moon's chosen. The world above remained blind.


Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: Ruin of Blood