"They say there was once a land so pure even death dared not touch it."
A land where the skies were forever blue, where laughter spilled from every home, and where cherry blossoms fell like snow across golden courtyards.
They called it... Iyakari.
Now, they call it a cursed graveyard.
---
Iyakari was once the heart of the Empire.
A capital that stood as the crown of civilization—flourishing with art, culture, and peace. No blood had stained its soil in generations. It was untouched by war, guarded not by steel—but by ideals.
Just beyond its borders lay Kogarashi, the land of conflict. War after war had ravaged it, turning its soil black and its winds bitter. It was there that warriors were forged—where the Empire fought its battles far from its sacred capital.
And at the head of its armies stood one man—the Empire's mightiest blade.
The Shogun.
A man born of discipline, chiseled from honor. He led thousands across the wastelands of Kogarashi, defending peace with blood. But fate is cruel… and peace, a fragile illusion.
---
The Hongishimaru Clan, once allies of the Empire, had been cast aside like refuse—denied aid, ignored in times of desperation. Betrayed, they vanished into exile.
But they did not die.
They rebuilt. Hardened. Trained. And soon, they returned—not as beggars, but as a rival empire of blood-soaked warriors. While the Empire had grown soft in its peace, Hongishimaru had become a legion of monsters.
They marched on Iyakari.
---
Kogarashi once again became the battlefield—but this time, it was a slaughter.
Empire soldiers, untested and arrogant, were torn apart by blades forged in vengeance. Blood flooded the grasslands. Screams echoed into the night.
The Shogun, watching the massacre unfold around him, fought with everything he had.
But even he—legendary as he was—couldn't stop the wave.
He survived. Alone.
Wounded. Haunted. Humiliated.
He returned to Iyakari, only to be met with sneers.
"Coward."
"Traitor."
"You let them die."
The Emperor turned his back. His people, once proud, now ashamed. He was shunned.
So, he vanished. Not into exile—but into despair.
---
He wandered alone, broken and hollow—until something answered his silent scream.
A demon.
It offered him a contract.
"You shall not feel pain," it whispered.
"You shall be a god in the form of a man."
Desperate to avenge the dead, to silence his failure, he accepted.
And on that night, the Shogun died.
What rose from the darkness was no man.
---
He returned to the battlefield—alone.
The Hongishimaru Empire fell in a single night.
He crushed them.
Tore them apart with his bare hands.
Blade and bone split equally under his wrath.
None survived. Not warriors, not women, not children.
The Empire cheered.
They welcomed him home like a hero. The Emperor bowed before him.
And for a brief moment, the Shogun believed… maybe he was still human.
---
That illusion shattered the night of the grand feast.
His family sat beside him. Wine flowed. Laughter danced.
Then, his hand moved.
Without warning. Without hesitation.
He gutted his wife.
Snapped his son's neck.
Ripped out his brother's throat with his teeth.
His eyes screamed in horror—but his body didn't listen.
The demon had taken control.
And all he could do...
Was watch.
---
He killed everyone.
Every noble. Every servant. Every guard.
The blood never stopped flowing.
By the time dawn rose, Iyakari—once the most beautiful city in the world—was nothing but ash, smoke, and corpses.
The demon wasn't finished.
It wanted more.
And so, the Shogun—cursed and conscious inside his own mind—became the Empire's greatest nightmare. He wandered, killing endlessly. He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't die.
Only slaughter. Only silence.
Until one day… he resisted.
Just long enough to bury himself in the ruins of Iyakari.
Just long enough to seal himself away.
And there he stayed.
Isolated. Forgotten.
Until the silence drove him mad once more.
---
Now…
Kogarashi—once a place of war—has risen into a new city, rebuilt from the ashes.
But Iyakari…
Iyakari has become a cursed land.
A no-man's zone of fog and ruin, where no light reaches.
A graveyard that breathes.
They say a figure roams there—silent, hollow-eyed, soaked in blood.
He never speaks. He never sleeps. He never stops.
Some call him a demon.
Some call him a myth.
Some call him Death.
But all who've heard the stories…
Know the truth.
He is the Ghost of Iyakari.