T/N: [Brain Storage]
It's highly recommended that you leave your brains here before diving in, so you can enjoy the story to the fullest. Don't worry—I'll keep a close eye on them… no matter the size, I won't judge.
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
In the Western Lands, territory of the Dog Demons.
Snowflakes as fine as goose down fell endlessly, blanketing the world in white.
The mountain forests, draped in silver, looked breathtaking in the storm, like an ink painting brought to life.
The cold northern wind howled across the land. A small squad of young dog demons, not yet fully transformed, padded behind their commander — a youth already able to take human form. Their footprints stretched across the snow in a neat trail.
"Everyone, rest a while."
Pausing at a regular patrol point, Tōga tightened the fur-lined cloak that covered his shoulders. His gaze pierced through the curtain of snow, searching the horizon.
Here lay the border between the Dog Demon clan and the Panther Demon tribe [Hyōnekozoku/Leopard Cat Tribe]— a vast claw-shaped scar that split the mountain range in two.
On the blackened earth within the rift, a heavy miasma hung thick in the air.
Two mighty wills, though their masters had long since departed, still clashed violently here. Their lingering auras twisted into miniature storms, tearing at the falling snow and scattering it like waves.
Ordinary low-level demons could not even enter such a place alive. Any part of their body that touched the tainted ground would be crushed and repelled by the demonic energy — bursting apart like an overinflated balloon.
"Awoo…"
A low growl rumbled beside him. Still in the form of a boy no older than thirteen or fourteen, Tōga turned to see a dog demon with dark red fur sniffing the air.
"Pay them no mind, Kujaku," Tōga replied calmly.
A dog demon's nose was keener than its eyes. Unless their scent was deliberately hidden, the presence of powerful demons could be picked up from dozens of kilometers away. Even lesser hounds, though untransformed, could detect a particular scent within a kilometer or two.
And Tōga, blessed with talents far beyond ordinary dog demons, had already noticed them — a panther patrol mirroring their own, led by a girl with long, icy-blue hair.
Her aura was sharper and colder than the snow itself.
So that's Tōran of the Panther Tribe? Tōga thought. She's strong enough… but she lacks endurance.
For Tōga was no ordinary youth. He was a man who had once read the story of InuYasha, now reborn into this world as the Great Dog General himself. He knew who he was, and he knew that in the original story, "he" would one day fall — a death that seemed all too much like the whim of a cruel plot.
Naturally, he also knew of the Panther Tribe's future leaders, the four commanders, and their lord, Shakumyōmaru, the Panther King.
But that mattered little to him now. In the future, they would all be his defeated foes. Reborn as the destined Great Dog General, his enemies would fall faster and harder than before!
Every day, he could feel his strength growing. He didn't even know how he could possibly lose in the future. Unless, perhaps, some enemy descended straight from the heavens?
"Meow!"
A taunting cry carried over the snow.
The dogs refused to yield, howling back in unison.
"Awoo!"
The chorus of challenges made the long white tail at Tōga's neck twitch awkwardly in embarrassment.
Beside him, Kujaku — his loyal female subordinate, both now and in the "original story" — leapt forward, barking furiously across the rift.
The panthers answered in kind, their sharp "meows" filled with feline venom.
For a moment, it looked as if the cats and dogs were evenly matched, equals locked in a battle of wills.
But Tōga, who understood the meaning of their words, could only sigh inwardly. So this is what passes for insults?
These demons, untouched by the creativity of modern-day trolls, ragebaits, and brain rots, simply hurled "baka!" across the rift, answered only with "idiot!" back and forth, over and over. It was almost boring.
None of them dared to truly cross the rift. The battlefield was tainted by the clashing auras of two great demons, and these small fry — no stronger than the likes of Jaken — could only glare, shout, and finally retreat.
That left Tōga with time to recall the origins of the war between dogs and panthers.
The Western Lands lay roughly in the region mortals would one day call Kansai. Shakumyōmaru — the first of his kind to reach the level of a great demon — had risen there, unifying the fractured tribes with overwhelming might.
The law of the demon world was simple: the strong ruled, and the weak submitted. Thus, the demons of the West bent their necks beneath his claws.
But the tyranny of his rule bred discontent. Some tribes fled. Others resisted in secret.
At first, their rebellion was insignificant. Against the power of a great demon, no lesser clan could stand — he could erase them with ease.
Those who remained either bent completely or were too stubborn to yield.
Shakumyōmaru dismissed their defiance as nothing more than the natural way of demons. Let the young panthers fight, he thought. It would only make them stronger.
But then… the new king of the Dog Clan was born.
His claws tore across the West, dividing it in two.
Half belonged to cats, half to dogs.
When the ritual barking and meowing ended, Tōran led her panther patrol away, satisfied for now.
Tōga gathered his own grumbling hounds and pressed on to their next post.
The wind grew harsher, cutting even through fur and demonic energy.
The barren trees along the way stretched their skeletal branches against the white landscape, like stark black silhouettes in a lonely painting.
By the time they crossed three more ridges, the setting sun cast its final crimson glow across the snowy world. For a brief moment, the frozen land seemed breathtakingly beautiful.
At last, Tōga and his pack reached their destination, an outpost where they would relieve another squad for a half-month watch.
"Seiten, any signs of trouble?"
During the exchange of duty, Tōga addressed a burly young dog demon standing guard.
"Same as always," Seiten said, curling his tail tighter around his neck as he glanced out at the storm. His tone carried a note of regret.
"In all my years since birth, I've never seen cold like this. Our war with the panthers… it seems it won't break out until spring."
He grinned, flashing sharp fangs. "But when the battles begin, little brother, I'll take you with me. We'll tear the heads off those panther cubs together!"
Tōga only smiled softly in reply, watching as Seiten and the others vanished into the snow.
"Awoo."
Behind him, Kujaku barked.
Tōga answered with a nod, then turned and stepped into the outpost's cave.