The ancient stone gate groaned as it slowly parted, revealing a swirling red mist on the other side—a barrier between two worlds. The Crimson Veil Gate was now open, for the first time in generations. As Raizen Hitari, Kai's father, stepped through, the seal behind him began to close, leaving the world of men behind.
What awaited him was nothing short of a forgotten nightmare.
The Crimson Veil World was not mere legend. It was real, vast, and devastatingly silent. Thick clouds choked the sky, casting a crimson hue over everything. Towering spires of twisted black rock jutted from the ground like broken teeth, and rivers ran red with the blood of ancient wars. But the most haunting sight of all was the enormous city built in the shape of a serpent—the Gate Fortress, now held hostage by monstrous forces.
Raizen's heart clenched as he stepped onto the blood-stained earth. This world… it was built by his grandfather, a master of swords and the architect of the Crimson Veil. A sanctuary for warriors. A last stronghold to contain the evil lurking in the void. But now, it was under siege.
The gate had once stood as a line of defense. Now it was a prison.
---
Years ago, his father—Kai's grandfather—had fought back an entire army from beyond the Veil. He had sealed the entrance, trapping both himself and the darkness inside. His final words etched in stone were: "If the seal breaks, only those with the blood of warriors may reclaim the sword."
That sword, Tenrai, was not just a weapon. It was a legacy. A burden. A key.
Raizen was not alone in this battle. Behind him marched a force of 100 elite fighters from the outside world, brave souls who understood the price of failure. Among them stood Rael Hitari, Rekha's father—the Gatekeeper. United by fate and fire, they marched into the unknown.
As they descended the mountain path, a sound pierced the air—a deep, thunderous bell.
It echoed across the valley, reverberating through bones and memories. The sound meant one thing: they had been spotted.
From the shadows, grotesque figures emerged. Eyes glowing like coals, mouths wide with jagged teeth, skin dripping with corruption—the Crimsonborn, spawn of the corrupted veil. Dozens turned to hundreds. Then thousands.
Still, Raizen stepped forward. Calm. Resolute. Sword in hand.
His voice rang out like a command from the heavens:
"We do not fear monsters. We are the legacy of blade and flame! Forward!"
---
The battle began.
Steel clashed against claw, flame against shadow. Raizen's sword moved with deadly grace, cutting down creatures left and right. Tenrai pulsed with energy, responding to the bloodline of its wielder. Every slash purified the cursed ground.
Rael fought alongside him, defending his flank, chanting protective spells passed through his line for generations. The warriors behind them were fierce, but the enemy was relentless. For every creature slain, five more rose from the red soil.
Hours passed. The tide shifted. Bodies littered the battlefield—human and monster alike.
Then, from the black city, he appeared.
A towering figure clad in obsidian armor, his face hidden behind a mask of bone. His name was only whispered in the deepest parts of legend: Lord Malakai, the Devourer of Light. It was he who had stolen Tenrai before, using dark magic to corrupt its power. It was he who had defeated Raizen once.
And now, he came to finish what he started.
Raizen stepped forward, facing the one who had taken everything from him.
"You stole the sword of my bloodline. You defiled this world. Today, I will end this."
Malakai laughed, a deep, hollow sound.
"You carry hope like a fool carries sand. This world belongs to me. Even your ancestors fled from what I've become."
Without warning, Malakai launched at Raizen with a black blade that pulsed with dark energy. The ground cracked beneath them as their swords met. Sparks erupted, followed by a shockwave that leveled nearby spires.
The two warriors clashed like titans. Raizen's strikes were swift, precise—he was a master born of generations of bladecraft. But Malakai was something else. Something unnatural.
Eventually, Raizen faltered. A deep slash to his side weakened him. Another to his leg brought him to one knee.
Rael rushed forward to help, but was struck down by a shadow spear, impaled through his chest. He screamed, calling out to Raizen with his final breath:
"Protect the sword! Don't let him take it again!"
With fury in his heart, Raizen pushed through the pain. He struck a final blow to Malakai's side, staggering the dark lord.
But it wasn't enough.
A swarm of Crimsonborn overwhelmed him. Tenrai slipped from his hand as he fell. Raizen's last thought wasn't of victory or vengeance—it was of his son, Kai. A boy with a quiet soul and the blood of heroes.
Raizen whispered into the wind, "One day… he'll come…"
---
The sword vanished with the closing gate. The world behind the veil was sealed once more—but at a terrible cost. Raizen Hitari, Rael, and the hundred warriors never returned.
The tale was passed down in whispers, guarded by Rekha's family and buried in Kai's forgotten bloodline.
Now, Tenrai had chosen again.
The sword rested in Kai's hands.
And the gate was stirring once more.