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 twenty 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 twenty 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.

---

The Ten Soldiers

Tochirō - Calm, calculating, haunted by the dead, a natural leader.

Sakura - Disciplined, fiercely loyal, clenches her fists when afraid.

Akira - Bold, stubborn, grins even in danger, masks fear with humor.

Renji - Mischievous, sarcastic, smirks to annoy enemies and friends alike.

Arata - Silent, observant, watches everything, rarely speaks but sees all.

Raiden - Reckless, adrenaline-driven, trembles before fights but hides it behind laughter.

Shiro - Calm, stoic, shadowlike, always analyzing the battlefield.

Hinata - Optimistic, naive, believes in miracles, often cheers the group.

Kaito - Strategic, bookish, always thinking 3 steps ahead, worries constantly.

Tsubasa - Hot-headed, impulsive, dives into danger first, regrets later.

---

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."

---

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.

---

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:

Tochirō

Sakura

Akira

Renji

Arata

Shiro

Hinata

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.

---

to be continued

The seven soldiers had successfully penetrated the Devil Ward. The air itself seemed alive, pressing against their skin with a strange, tangible weight.

Tochirō: “Their air… it feels alive. Powerful. Devilish.”

Akira: “So this is where the Devils who slaughtered my parents live… I’ll carve my vengeance into this place and burn it all.”

Renji: “Hah… this presence… it’s intoxicating. I can feel their power under my feet.”

Arata: “So… this is Devil-land.”

Shiro: “Devil-land… as they said.”

Hinata: “Stay focused. One wrong move, and it’s over.”

Sakura: “I hope I can adjust to it… this presence is strong.”

Tochirō raised a hand. “We split into two groups.”

Group A: Tochirō, Akira, Renji

Group B: Arata, Sakura, Shiro, Hinata

“Tochirō, this is where we separate,” he said. “Group A heads east to the village. The rest—toward the Bone Pyramid. Stick to the plan. Every second counts.”

Tochirō, Renji, and Akira advanced toward the village. “We meet at the local bar every Saturday morning,” Tochirō reminded them before splitting further.

The market gate loomed ahead. Tochirō paused, observing the humanoid residents moving with uncanny grace.

A soft, melodic voice cut through the tension.

Mizuna: “Hey, handsome. Are you new here?”

Tochirō: “Uh… yeah. Can you tell?”

Mizuna: “Your outfit… it screams outsider.”

Tochirō: “I suppose that’s true. How could I forget?”

Mizuna: “Come, let me show you around.”

As they moved through the streets, Mizuna guided him, pointing out training grounds and living quarters. Tochirō noticed subtle signs of danger, but kept his focus.

Mizuna: you really seem focus in the training, come stay with me and be a soldier,I really need a personal student and you got potential,I can smell your energy

Tochiro: I really don't have where to go so okay

Later, in her room, Tochirō asked the question burning in his mind.

Tochirō: “Can you tell me more about the Demons?”

Mizuna: “Funny… you haven’t heard? They’re the strongest beings here, very few, and they decide who lives and dies.”

Tochirō: “Then… why do Devils attack humans?”

Mizuna’s eyes darkened. “The ruler wants Devils to dominate all races. Humans… you stand no chance. Kneel, beg, and maybe you’ll live.”

Tochirō: His fists clenched. “Enough!”

Mizuna: “Why do you resist?”

Tochirō: “I’m done for today. Thank you for your help. I need rest.”

He turned away. Every step carried the weight of centuries-old hatred. Devil-land wasn’t just alive—it remembered every trespass.

---

The next morning, Tochirō woke early, wondering where Mizuna was.

Mizuna: “Come, have breakfast.”

Tochirō seemed distracted, lost in thought.

Mizuna: “Still upset about yesterday?”

Tochirō: “No… it’s not that. You’ve been so kind since I arrived. I’m just wondering if I can ever repay you.”

Mizuna: laughing softly “Just eat breakfast. That’s what friends are for. But… unfortunately for you, I’m your captain in Devil Soldier training. You’re going to work your ass off.”

Tochirō: “You’re so young… how can you be a captain?”

Mizuna: “I’ve been training since birth under my father. That’s how.”

They arrived at the training ground. Fifty students were already gathered, the air buzzing with anticipation. Tochirō stepped into the field and immediately felt the weight of the Magatama thrumming against his chest.

Training began. Tochirō pushed himself—honing his Magatama abilities, learning Blood Art Demon techniques, increasing speed, stamina, and endurance. Every strike, every dodge, every motion was a test of survival.

Later, Mizuna called Tochirō and Ray over.

Mizuna: “You’ve got potential for the war coming up with the Devils. I want you two to spar.”

A large square arena was drawn.

Ray use his Devil Soul to increase your durability. Tochirō, use the power of your Magatama to channel fire.”

The fight began.

Ray lunged with a burst of speed, throwing punches left and right. SWISH! CRACK! Each blow cut through the air like a whip.

Tochirō ducked, rolled, and kept moving, eyes scanning for an opening. THUD! SMASH! Ray’s punch grazed his shoulder, sending sparks of energy from the Magatama.

Tochirō countered with a low, spinning slide kick. WHOOSH! BAM! Ray leapt over it, using a dangerous Devil Act to avoid the strike, leaving trails of shadow energy behind him.

Tochirō: “Focus… find the rhythm…”

They clashed again, fists colliding with KLANG! CRASH!, energy rippling across the training ground. Each strike tested endurance, each dodge sharpened instincts. Dust swirled around them, making every movement feel epic, almost cinematic.

Finally, Mizuna stepped forward. “Enough for today!”

Tochirō: breathing heavily “Nice fight, Ray.”

Ray: “You’ve got potential… and it’s only your first day. You still have a lot to learn about combat.”

Tochirō: “Thanks, man. I’d love to spar again.”

Ray: grinning “Next time, I won’t hold back, boy.”

They slapped hands, the energy between them crackling with promise and rivalry.

To be continued…

The sun hung low over Devil-land, bleeding gold across the sky. Tochirō sat silently in his quarters, his thoughts tangled.

(Tochirō’s thoughts): I still haven’t gotten the information I need about this war. What Mizuna told me… it doesn’t sound like the real motive.

Mizuna’s voice called from below.

Mizuna: “Tochirō! Come downstairs for lunch.”

He joined her, the table already set.

Tochirō: “Thanks for the food.”

Mizuna smiled faintly. “You’re welcome. Now eat. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Tochirō: “What’s ahead of us, if I may ask?”

Mizuna’s tone hardened. “We’re attacking the Demons.”

Tochirō paused, chopsticks frozen mid-air. At least… I’m onto something now.

Mizuna slid a heavy book across the table. Its cover was scorched, edges worn from decades of use.

Mizuna: “But first, take this. Every detail we’ve gathered so far about the Demons.”

Tochirō flipped it open, his eyes scanning the pages.

Tochirō: “Master Zoro… lived over a thousand years, emits an aura so heavy it crushes the air. If you see him—flee.”

Mizuna: “One of the highest-ranked Demons in our bingo books.”

Tochirō: “Master Akushin—avoid eye contact or be consumed. Master Korudan—flee. Master Kakuzo—flee. Master Kagura—flee. Master Enra—flee. Master Shugoro—flee…”

His fists tightened. He slammed the book shut.

Tochirō: “Tch!”

Mizuna sighed. “I know. They’re all dangerous—high-rank Demons.”

(Tochirō’s thoughts): That’s not the problem. If the Devils fear these Demons enough to list them like this, if they’re really stronger than Devils… what chance do we have at winning this war? What chance does humanity have at surviving? Is there even hope? We don’t even know why the Demons stopped attacking humans. What the hell is going on in this cursed land…

His hands trembled, breath uneven.

Mizuna reached across the table, squeezing his arm. “Lighten up. We have numbers, and strong Captains. Luckily for you, I’m one of them. And I’ll always have your back.”

She pulled him into a brief hug, her presence grounding him. Tochirō nodded silently, holding onto that small comfort.

---

The Next Morning

The army was assembled at dawn. The Captains rode ahead on horseback, their armor gleaming darkly, while rows of soldiers marched in formation, spears and blades flashing. The ground shook beneath their discipline.

They crossed into Demon territory, their boots sinking into ash-dark soil, until the towering silhouette of the Demon Castle loomed ahead.

Then, chaos erupted.

From the sky, the devil  rained flames down like hellfire. Lower Demons shrieked. Houses collapsed into embers. Children screamed. The stench of burning flesh filled the air.

Tochirō froze, horror searing into his chest. This… this isn’t war. It’s slaughter.

Before he could move, a shadowed figure descended. A massive, shifting aura unfurled, pressing against every soldier like an invisible mountain. The air cracked, heavy with power.

A barrier flared into existence, shimmering crimson, trapping them inside.

Mizuna’s eyes widened. “A high-level barrier… it takes time to set this up. That means they knew we were coming. They used their own people as bait. What kind of monster…?”

The figure stepped forward, hovering in the air with a demonic grin. His voice rumbled like thunder.

Raizen: “Welcome to your graves.”

Wings spread wide, he launched forward at impossible speed, a sonic boom shattering the air. Soldiers barely raised their blades before they were torn apart—speed blitzed into nothing but crimson mist.

Mizuna: “That’s him… Master Raizen!”

Panic erupted. A few Devils broke ranks, trying to escape the barrier.

Mizuna shouted: “It’s no use! He’s the one maintaining it. If we don’t kill him, no one leaves alive!”

The four Captains charged at once.

Captain 2 roared: “Blood Art — Crimson Dragon Fang!” His sword became a serpentine flame, striking down toward Raizen.

But Raizen caught the blade barehanded, smirking. With a blur, he shattered the Captain’s defense and drove his fist forward—Demon Strike: Skull Crusher.

The Captain’s head exploded like a melon, blood spraying across the battlefield. Screams echoed.

Raizen swung his blade, chanting in a guttural tongue. Blue lightning gathered at the edge.

Raizen: “Thunder Annihilation Beam!”

A torrent of demonic energy ripped forward, carving the battlefield apart. Half the Devil soldiers were incinerated in an instant.

Tochirō staggered, his body trembling. Just one of them… just one Demon… and this is what he can do?

Raizen blurred again, his blade aimed at Tochirō’s chest—

Ray appeared in front of him, intercepting the strike with his bare arms glowing.

Ray: “Are you dumb?! Focus on the battle! Don’t tell me you’re giving up already!”

Sparks ignited as their blows clashed. Ray unleashed rapid punches, his fists glowing dark with Devil Soul Impact. Each strike sent shockwaves through the barrier, but Raizen parried with ease, his movements sharper than lightning.

The Captains regrouped.

Captain 3: “Coordinated strike! Now!”

The four remaining Captains unleashed their blood arts together—

“Soul Drain Bind!”

“Demon Bane Spears!”

“Crimson Lotus Slash!”

Chains of blood shot from Mizuna’s hands, wrapping around Raizen’s limbs in midair. For the first time, his movement halted.

Mizuna: “Now, Tochirō! Do it!”

Tochirō’s magatama pulsed, his blade igniting in fire so bright it painted the battlefield red.

Tochirō: “Magatama Art — Blazing Severance Slash!”

He dashed forward, flames tearing the ground apart beneath his feet, and with one strike, severed Raizen’s head from his shoulders.

The world went silent.

For a moment, hope flickered.

But then Tochirō remembered Mizuna’s words from training, echoing in his mind.

“To kill a high-rank Demon, you must destroy every cell. Cutting off the head only slows regeneration. It works on low and mid-rank Demons… but never the high ones.”

The battlefield was drenched in blood. Out of the hundred Devil soldiers who entered, barely ten limped back alive.

They marched home in silence, weighed down by grief, disbelief, and the crushing knowledge of what they had just faced.

Tochirō walked among them, his blade still warm, his heart trembling with one question—

Do we humans stand a chance at winning this war