(Narrator's Perspective): The World After the Seal Broke
They say love makes fools of us all. But fifty years ago, one man's love—no, his obsession—nearly ended the world.
He was a scholar, a recluse, a man broken by grief. His wife had died young, and he couldn't bear the silence she left behind. So when a voice whispered to him from the shadows, promising her return, he didn't hesitate. He made a pact. Not with a god. Not with fate. But with the Devil himself.
The fool thought he was clever. He thought he could outwit the Prince of Lies. But the Devil is ancient, cunning, and cruel. The moment the seal between Earth and Hell was broken, the sky bled fire. Demons poured through the rift like a plague, and the world as we knew it ended.
That was the beginning of the Thirty-Year Blood War.
But in our darkest hour, something awakened in us. A force we never knew we had. We called it Yen—a power born from the chaos, a gift from the universe to balance the scales. It manifested differently in each person: fire, ice, shadow, light, metal, wind—no two cultivators were the same. It was as if the world itself had decided to fight back through us.
Those who could wield Yen became our defenders. We called them Hunters. The strongest among them rose to the ranks of Masters and S-Class, legends who could level cities and banish entire demon hordes with a single breath.
After thirty years of bloodshed, sacrifice, and unimaginable loss, the seal was reforged. The Devil was pushed back. But not destroyed. Never destroyed.
Now, two decades later, the world limps forward. The seal holds, but it leaks. Demons still slip through—smaller in number, but no less deadly. And so the Hunters remain. We are the sword and the shield. We are the line between humanity and extinction.
But here's the truth no one likes to say out loud: only 34% of humanity can cultivate Yen. And of those, just 12% are strong enough to make a difference. The rest? Cannon fodder. Or worse—bait.
I've seen too many good people die. Too many friends torn apart by claws and flame. And I've learned one thing above all else:
The Devil never lies outright. He just tells you the truth you want to hear.
And somewhere out there, he's waiting. Watching. Smiling.
Because he knows.
One day, someone else will be desperate enough to open the seal again.
And now....
Now, back to the present. (MC'S perspective)
I am Shigen Yamasaki, a B-rank Fire Cultivator—nothing flashy, but I've burned more demons than I can count. My partner, Jian, is a C-rank Light Cultivator. He's younger, quieter, but his instincts are sharp and his light cuts cleaner than most blades. We've been tracking a shapeshifter for three days now. A demon that can manipulate its own blood into weapons—blades, whips, even armor. Nasty piece of work. Leaves behind nothing but red mist and silence.
The trail led us to the outskirts of a ruined village. The air was thick with the scent of iron and ash. Jian said he felt something—faint, like a flicker of corrupted Yen. I felt it too. So we moved in, slow and silent.
That's when we saw her.
A little girl. No older than seven. Barefoot. Dirt-streaked. Eyes wide with tears. She said she was lost. Said her parents were taken by monsters. Said she'd been hiding for days.
But my instincts screamed demon.
Not because of anything she did. Not because of how she looked. But because she was too perfect. The tremble in her voice, the way she clutched her ragged doll, the exact shade of helplessness in her eyes—it was all textbook. Too clean. Too rehearsed.
Jian looked at me, uncertain. He's got a softer heart than I do. He wanted to believe her. Hell, I wanted to believe her.
But I've seen demons wear better masks than this.
I let my Yen simmer just beneath my skin, heat rising in my palms. Not enough to burn. Just enough to be ready.
She looked up at me then. And for a split second—just a flicker—I saw it. Her eyes didn't reflect the light. No soul behind them. Just hunger.
I didn't move. Not yet.
Because the thing about shapeshifters is, they don't strike until you do.
And the thing about me?
I always strike first.