A tale of a War demon general who sacrificed everything for his Lord, Kingdom, and family - unknowingly binding their fates to the Demon Lord of War for all of eternity.
“General Tokugoro of the Norikara. I have a report.”
The ginormous, seven foot tall bronzed N'vaen demon, with tiger-like stripes running down his tree trunk limbs and bared back, eyed the wolf Lethaos messenger out of his patchless good eye. His wild, lion-like mane surrounding his face like a majestic radiant halo of fiery crimson hair swayed in the wind.
“The demons of the Death, Famine, and Pestilence kingdoms are to make an assault on Gojo Bridge.”
“...Clever. If we let them take control of that bridge, they essentially have us bottlenecked. We won't be able to push back effectively.”
“What do we do, General Tokugoro?”
“We fight to the last man to defend this point.”
“But General -”
He snatched the Lethaos by his armor with a single clawed hand. With a crazed grin, he gazed into the wolf demon's widened pupils. He spoke lowly. Slowly. “What in the blazing hells did you think I was gonna say, Shinjimaru? We're gonna do this like only War Demons do. We fight to the last man, to the very last drop of blood. If I let one drop of THEIR filthy tainted blood slip by, I will take my own head – but not before I murder each and every last son of a bitch who leaves his post before my say so.”
“I have my family back home to return to. A son who I want to succeed me as 'Lord's Chosen.' A wife who I love just as dearly as you bastards love that sad, shriveled sack between your quivering piss-stained legs. Quite frankly, I don't care what you're fighting for.”
“I know what's important to me: The prosperity of the War Kingdom and the glory of Lady Neiren. If you don't like it...well let's just say when I'm done with you, I'll make you WISH you had your limp twig eaten by a disease-ridden, Pestilence succubus, loose-legged whore!”***
Gojo Bridge. About 40,000 meters long, 50 meters wide. It had controlled the flow of the invading three kingdoms of Death, Famine, and Pestilence into War Kingdom territory. But over the course of forty days and forty nights, the forces of the War Kingdom had been overwhelmed by the other three.
Shinjimaru's dismembered skull had long since been trampled and crushed by the advancing forces. And General Tokugoro was bleeding out from his left arm socket, gasping for breath as he focused his bleary eyes on the advancing forces. Only a few hundred more to go. Not quite impossible odds.
“Kanjincho, son,” he whispered to the sky. “Looks like I'll have to break my promise. I won't get to see you become a man after all.”
Tokugoro raised his katana to the sky...and the sky turned black with storm clouds, raining the blood rains of Kurai, feeding him the sustenance he needed for one last shot.
“Lady Neiren, hear me! I, Tokugoro, have served you faithfully, spilt blood in thine glorious name. I will strike down your enemies with a swing of my blade, baptizing it in the blood of my foes as well as my own. I ask but that you guide this to my home, and let it serve my bloodline, so long as they serve you!”
“And to the enemies of our Lord of War!” Tokugoro's eyes flashed with life and malice one last time. “I have a message from Lady Neiren, she of the blood-stained scale!”
“From our lips to your ears...” He drew back his blade, as he inhaled sharply and bellowed, “I'M GONNA SHOVE THIS BLADE RIGHT DOWN YOUR WENCHY THROATS."
Suddenly, the spiritual essence from all the blood spilled formed into a sphere of raw destructive force above. Lightning split the sky, striking the blade, flowing through Tokugoro, forcing a scream between a warcry and a death wail, as he swung his blade of raw spiritual energy, shearing through the stony bridge with a single stroke.
Screams echoed throughout the skies of Kurai as the bridge and the broken bodies of demons fell down the chasm, all becoming food for the kraken waiting in the blood seas below.
A few months later, a sword would wash up on the shore near the Fortress of War, where a young demon man by the name of Kanjincho would pick up the blade. Having been told the tale of his father's heroism, he had the blade christened as “Khiba no Jaehya Sheizi” - Fang of Elder Spirits – Bloodline's Fang on the day of his ascension to the ranks of the Lord's Chosen, in memory of his father's deed.