Death to you. A phrase the demon "Bloodstrider" Mura knows all too well; living out his unusual life as a would-be assassin in an unforgiving world. But in a twist of fate, Mura is exiled to Earth, stripped of his powers and is now hunted by those h...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Chamber of the House of Black, Grand Sanctum of Demiurge — Some time later. Deep within the heart of the majestic sanctum were seats for roughly five-hundred demons of varying political power and pedigree. Every last seat belonged to a magistrate or member of minor royalty. All had joined from across the nations and cities of Yomi's vast lands to this glorious capital. Their creeds and ambitions all lead them to serve as the body of Yomi's government: the House of Black.
This day however, the chamber appeared empty; with only silence lingering about as amber rays of light bled through the crystalline ceiling. If one sat alone in such a room as this, they would be washed over by a sense of unfamiliar nostalgia; as if flipping through an old book. It was the feeling of unlived history, the sensation of being transported back in a time before one's own.
Despite appearing completely barren though, one soul sat within the nearly-vacant area. Their hands were folded, fingers interlocked. The figure had short silver hair yet still maintained a youthful visage. Dressed in the flowing robed gown of a powerful judge, the figure emitted a natural aura of authority and justice. The expression on their face was thoughtful and kind, while the creased lines on their brow spoke to an age on experience and hardship.
A door creaked open far from the chief judge, its sound echoing several times throughout the spacious walls. In walked the chief adviser, with his purple hair cascading past his shoulders. Both figures smiled at each other, immediately locating the other within moments.
"Naraka! My dear friend," the judge spoke in a deep, resonating voice full with mirth. "How has fortune been treating the legendary hero?"
Naraka worked through the maze of seats and desks to his old friend. A large smile was glued to his face, the kind a child would make after receiving a wondrous present for the holidays. They both embraced each other tightly.
"Look at you now, the Chief Justice of Yomi: Hurr Nidar!" Naraka said proudly at Nidar's recent advancement.
The black robes Nidar wore were accented in purples so dark they appeared almost umbral. Thin golden chains hung loosely from his gown in loops, with a long gold necklace around his neck that reached to his breastbone. The man resembled a pharaoh or a king more than a chief justice. His strong facial features and dark skin highlighted his sky blue eyes, which always appeared more of a grey once the sun reflected off them.
"Thank you kindly, my friend. I worked hard to achieve this feat, just as you always have. I promised I wouldn't meet you again like this until I advanced myself to a state equal to your own, Naraka."
"I remember that talk, actually!" Naraka stated with a finger to his chin in remembrance. "Goddamn, we were younger then..."
Nidar laughed and placed his hand strongly upon his friend's shoulder.
"And in all those years up till now, your tongue is still loose when it comes to our Lord. Watch he doesn't burn it to a simmering pulp one day," Nidar smirked.
