[Vol.1] Chapter 1 Part 1 : Outcast And The Shadow Deity
Kazuki’s voice broke the chilly silence of the prison cell, echoing off the damp stone walls. “In death as in life, my lord, I remained your faithful servant,” he murmured. The memory of Shogun Tokugawa—once a kindly master, now lost to betrayal—haunted him with every breath. The Shogun’s gentle smile was burned into his mind, a solitary spark of hope flickering within the darkness of Kazuki’s near-certain doom.
He had been Shogun Tokugawa’s most trusted guard, sworn to protect him until life’s end. Yet fate had twisted his loyalty into a cruel accusation: he was now blamed for the very death he had fought to prevent. At just twenty-two, Kazuki’s strong frame and solemn blue eyes offered little comfort in the icy cell where he awaited execution.
Gently running a hand over the stubble on his chin, he pressed his palm against the cold, rough wall. “I can’t avenge you, my lord,” he whispered, “but I’ll see you soon. I swear it.”
Beside him, another prisoner whimpered, voice trembling with fear. “I don’t want to die here.”
Kazuki glanced over. The man, frail and broken, was curled in a filthy corner. Hopelessness clung to the cell like mold, the air thick with despair. The sight struck Kazuki as a brutal reminder of how far the mighty could fall—even a warrior like him could be crushed under the weight of corruption.
“Neither do I,” Kazuki muttered softly. He turned back to the wall, running his fingertips along the seams between the stones as though they might offer a hidden pathway to freedom.
All around them, prisoners wore the same weary expressions of defeat. Their hushed voices were nearly drowned out by the steady drip of water echoing in the darkness. Fear and resignation coiled in the stale air.
“Kazuki-san,” one of them ventured, “you were a great samurai who served Shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu. Can’t you do something to save us?”
Kazuki’s jaw tightened. He knew that no skill with a blade would release them from these chains forged by lies. “Even a samurai can be rendered powerless by corrupt officials,” he said, bitterness creeping into his tone. Closing his eyes, he allowed his thoughts to soar beyond the prison’s walls, recalling the vast skies that once promised freedom.
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“Someone might still save us…” another prisoner’s voice, barely audible, flickered with the last trace of hope.
“Clinging to hope can be a cruel thing,” Kazuki muttered, though he felt a stubborn spark within himself. It refused to be snuffed out, no matter how dark the cell became.
“Then we are truly lost,” the first man groaned, burying his face in his hands.
Silence settled over them, thick and suffocating. Yet Kazuki’s inner resolve remained unbroken—a grim ember in the gloom, fueled by his unshakable spirit.
Sitting cross-legged on the frigid stone floor, Kazuki slowed his breathing, attempting to steady the storm in his mind. Candlelight flickered, casting jagged shapes that danced across the walls, as though mocking him with the nearness of death.
From the corner of the cell, a presence began to take form. Tall and slim, it seemed to emerge from the shadows themselves, drifting through the dank darkness. A sudden, instinctual fear tore at Kazuki’s composure, his heart pounding violently in his chest. Struggling to speak, he managed a strained whisper: “Who… who’s there?”
The figure radiated a curious magnetism, like a small, shimmering flame in an endless sea of shadow.
“Kazuki,” it said, voice gentle as silk on ice. “I am Tsukuyomi, god of shadows. I offer you a chance at vengeance.”
The word “vengeance” echoed among the prisoners. Some looked on in silent horror, too terrified to speak. Kazuki could sense their eyes on him, feel their collective breath hanging in the stale air.
“And what’s the price for such an offer?” he asked, forcing steadiness into his voice.
“Accept my gift—my shadow magic,” Tsukuyomi replied, extending an ink-black hand. “Through it, you can escape the gallows and claim the justice you deserve.”
Kazuki’s pulse thundered. A fierce longing for retribution battled against the principles he had always upheld. Embracing this power meant stepping away from the samurai code he held so dear.
His fists clenched. “What of my honor, shadow god? Am I to trade it for this…darkness?”
Tsukuyomi’s gaze held steady. “Decide for yourself, Kazuki. Will you remain bound by the laws of those who wronged you, or will you take justice into your own hands? Is it not honorable to free the innocent and punish the guilty?”
Conflict raged in Kazuki’s eyes. He glanced from Tsukuyomi’s outstretched hand to the desperate faces around him. Their silent pleas urged him toward a single, terrible choice.
The god of shadows spoke softly: “Your honor might demand submission to your fate. But what of justice? What of the lives destined to suffer under the tyranny that condemned you?”
The question hung between them like a blade poised to drop. Kazuki swallowed hard, sweat beading on his brow as he fought the dread curling in his gut. “Can I truly bring justice by embracing darkness?”
“Only you can answer that,” Tsukuyomi said, dark silhouette wavering in the flickering light. “But remember—sometimes it takes darkness to defeat darkness.”
Kazuki closed his eyes. He could still feel the cold stone beneath him, still smell the rot in the air. As his heart pounded out a raw, trembling rhythm, a new resolve began to take hold. He wasn’t sure what lay ahead, but he knew, somehow, that denying this power might mean letting evil triumph.
And so, with the remains of his pride hanging in the balance, Kazuki stared into Tsukuyomi’s endless black eyes and considered the offer that could change his fate forever.
