Long ago, the three races—Human, Demon, and Devil—kept their distance, bound by fragile borders and ancient laws. That fragile peace shattered in a single bloody morning: the Devil Race descended and wiped out forty percent of humanity. They did not stop. They declared war on every living thing that drew breath.
Master Tobi rose first, his movements measured, heavy as iron. His voice fell like a blade.
"We need to be ready to face the Devils. Every strike, every plan must count."
Master Aoi slumped into his seat, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. "I… I don't see how we can win," he said, voice low and bitter. "They've slaughtered forty percent of our people already. Blood Demon Acts—magic that devours a man from the inside. How do we cut through that? Maybe… maybe we should ask the Demons for help. Desperate times."
Tobi's knuckles whitened. "Do we even know if the Demons will answer? Can we risk it? Or is that just another trap?"
Master Takechi's grin was a blade wrapped in silk, sharp and fevered. "If straight force fails, we fight by edge. Numbers aren't our strength anymore—strategy, cunning, and forbidden power are."
Aoi barked a bitter laugh. "Forbidden power? You mean human sacrifice to ancient rites? History says only a few survive. Most die."
Takechi's eyes burned. "Then we take only the strongest—ten from each division. Train them to wield the Jigoku no Magatama. If it answers, we gain a chance."
Silence slammed into the room. The map on the table—inked territories now stained with ash—shivered in the torchlight.
"Ten?" Aoi's cynicism cracked into fear. "Ten soldiers… against tens of thousands of Devils? You're gambling with lives."
Takechi's grin didn't waver. "Not as an army. Infiltration. Live among them. Learn their strengths, weaknesses. We don't need to win today—just find the Devil's spine to break tomorrow."
Tobi's gaze carried the weight of every boy who had died under his command. "And if we do nothing?" His voice was quiet but final. "Surrender… and die?"
Aoi exhaled, long and weary. "…Very well."
Charcoal circles were drawn. Names trembled in the hands of commanders. The camp bell tolled, mournful yet resolute, like a last mercy.
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The Ten Soldiers
1. Tochirō — Calm, calculating, haunted by the dead, a natural leader.
2. Sakura — Disciplined, fiercely loyal, clenches her fists when afraid.
3. Akira — Bold, stubborn, grins even in danger, masks fear with humor.
4. Renji — Mischievous, sarcastic, smirks to annoy enemies and friends alike.
5. Arata — Silent, observant, watches everything, rarely speaks but sees all.
6. Raiden — Reckless, adrenaline-driven, trembles before fights but hides it behind laughter.
7. Shiro — Calm, stoic, shadowlike, always analyzing the battlefield.
8. Hinata — Optimistic, naive, believes in miracles, often cheers the group.
9. Kaito — Strategic, bookish, always thinking 3 steps ahead, worries constantly.
10. Tsubasa — Hot-headed, impulsive, dives into danger first, regrets later.
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Dawn bit the air. Tochirō stood with the chosen ten—soldiers, not yet heroes, faces still remembering laughter. He had trained since he could lift a wooden blade. Three comrades had already died in Magatama trials: scorched bodies, hollow eyes, hearts devoured by the forbidden power. Their deaths weighed on Tochirō like stones in his chest.
Master Tobi presented the Magatama to each of them—small, black stones veined with molten red, thrumming like a heartbeat. The talismans whispered …zzzhh… against their skin, alive, hungry.
"You will cross into Devil-land," Tobi said, voice steady as the sea. "Live as they live. Breathe their air. Become what you must to learn what we need. This mission is not honor. It is survival."
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Before Departure — Words and Promises
Sakura's jaw tightened. "We go, and we return with truth. No lies."
Akira grinned, teeth flashing. "We go as hunters, not lambs."
Renji smirked. "Let them see humans don't break easily."
Arata nodded once—a quiet promise.
Raiden laughed too loudly to hide his nerves.
Shiro's eyes were calm, blade-like. "If one falls," he said, "we all fall."
Hinata whispered encouragement to the others.
Kaito adjusted his gear, calculating risks silently.
Tsubasa cracked his knuckles, muttering, "Let's burn them first."
Tochirō touched his Magatama. Cold and hot at once, it pulsed beneath his skin. The faces of the three fallen in trials flashed for a second.
Master Tobi closed his hand over the stones. "Say your goodbyes. We move at dusk. No time to waste."
Families clung to the soldiers like anchors. Prayers, tears, talismans, and hands that would not let go filled the camp with a strange warmth amid fear.
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After the Trials — The Seven Survivors
Only seven crossed into Devil-land. The ones lost—Raiden, Hinata, and Tsubasa—had been claimed by the harshness of the Magatama trials or early shadows of Devil-land.
The survivors:
1. Tochirō
2. Sakura
3. Akira
4. Renji
5. Arata
6. Shiro
7. Kaito
Master Tobi's words echoed as they passed the last ward—beyond seals, beyond veils, beyond crumbling walls: "Survive, or the world falls. Fail, and none will remember you."
Outside, Devil-land breathed like a sleeping beast. The seven chosen soldiers would cross into fire and shadow, and return changed… or not at all.
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to be continued