The palace of the Tenkawa Clan loomed like a fortress above the clouds—serene, untouched, and dangerously silent. Within its grand hall, beneath banners of silver and white, Kazuki, the Tennō of all clans, stood before a wall of flame-shaped crystal. The light from it danced across his face, glinting in his eyes like embers waiting to ignite.
He had everything a ruler could desire: power, dominion, and fear itself kneeling at his command. Yet, one ember refused to be snuffed out—the Kasai Clan.
At his side, the Daishō of the Daichikyō Clan spoke hesitantly.
"Are you certain about this, Tennō? The Kasai Clan has always stood loyal. Eliminating them could upset the balance."
Kazuki's gaze didn't shift from the window. Below, the world stretched endlessly—a tapestry of nations held together by his will alone. "Balance?" he echoed softly. "No… they are the spark that threatens to burn my order to ash. The boy—Ryuji Kasai—he carries too much potential. If left unchecked, even a single flame can become an inferno."
The Daishō lowered his head. He knew better than to question the Tennō's resolve. Once Kazuki's mind was set, the decision was carved into fate itself.
Kazuki turned, the faint hum of power stirring in the air around him shimmered with Shinryoku — the divine energy granted to those born of this realm, though only a rare few possessed it in its true, potent form. His mind wandered briefly to the Kasai Clan's history — generations of flames passed down, a legacy that had survived countless wars. It was impressive… but dangerous. One spark left unchecked could ignite chaos that even he could not contain."Send the signal," he commanded. "Let the Daichikyō and Mizushima Clans strike before dawn. The Kasai Clan's era ends tonight."
A low tremor shuddered through the hall as his words sealed the fate of an entire clan. Somewhere far below the clouds, peace drew its final breath.
---
The Valley Burns
The first explosion shattered the stillness of night.
Fire bloomed across the valley as the Kasai Clan's stronghold erupted in chaos. Homes collapsed beneath the quake of war, and the once-golden sky turned crimson with ash. The ground itself trembled as the Daichikyō Clan's forces advanced, their footsteps heavy as mountains. Streams of icy water followed in their wake—the Mizushima Clan's warriors, cutting through flame and flesh alike.
In the center of the storm, a boy stood gripping a blade far too heavy for his hands. Ryuji Kasai, barely seven years old, heir to the Kasai Clan.
"Ryuji! Hide!" his grandfather's voice roared through the chaos, his tone sharp enough to cut through the thunder of battle. The old man's robes were torn, his face streaked with soot, but his eyes burned fiercely. "Do not fight them… not yet. Survive."
Ryuji's breath hitched. The air was thick with smoke, and every inhale scorched his lungs. Around him, warriors of flame met soldiers of stone, their powers colliding in flashes of red and brown. The air rippled with raw energy—Shinryoku, the essence of divine strength. Only those born with it could stand in such chaos and live.
From the shadows, armored figures advanced—two of them clad in black, their presence heavier than any others. They moved like predators, their movements sharp, deliberate, and unnatural. Ryuji didn't know it yet, but these were Kazuki's personal enforcers, sent to ensure the extermination was absolute.
He turned to run, but a soldier broke through the blaze before him, his blade whistling down. Reflexively, Ryuji raised his own sword, and a burst of red light erupted from his skin. The air shimmered. The strike connected—and stopped cold.
The soldier's eyes widened.
"What—what is this power?"
Ryuji's body trembled as the sensation coursed through him. Beneath his skin,"The faint shimmer of Jin'u — the Divine Armor born from Shinryoku itself — clung to his skin, warding off attacks that would have reduced any ordinary being to ash. He didn't understand it, not fully. He only knew that something inside him refused to break.
A second strike came, and Ryuji's instincts flared again. Heat exploded from his body, and a wave of fire sent the soldier flying backward. The boy gasped, staring at his own hands. "What… was that?"
"Ryuji!"
His grandfather's hand clamped onto his shoulder, yanking him toward the hidden passage beneath the central hall. "You can't stay here! Your father—he's buying us time!"
"But —" Ryuji's voice cracked, tears welling as he glanced back toward the battlefield. Amid the inferno, his father—the Kasai Clan's leader—clashed with one of the masked enforcers. Their swords sang through the air, sparks and embers raining around them.
The enemy moved with frightening precision. Every strike was clean, disciplined, almost familiar. And then, in a brief flash of steel, Ryuji's father managed to shatter part of the mask—revealing half a face beneath it. For the first time, his expression faltered.
His eyes widened.
"Y—you… it can't be—"
That heartbeat of hesitation was all it took. The masked warrior drove his blade forward, piercing the leader's chest. Ryuji's father staggered, fire fading from his eyes as he fell.
Ryuji screamed, his Shinryoku surging like a furnace about to burst. The air crackled around him, flames licking his arms—but before he could charge forward, his grandfather pulled him back with a strength born of desperation.
"There's nothing you can do now!" the old man shouted. "Live, Ryuji! That's what your father would want!"
Tears streamed down the boy's face as he was dragged into the passage. Behind them, the Fire Clan's final flames roared and dimmed beneath waves of earth and water.
The last thing Ryuji saw before the tunnel closed was the silhouette of the masked warrior standing over his father's fallen body—silent, unmoving, victorious.
---
The Spark That Survived
The tunnel was cold and narrow, each step echoing like a whisper from the dead. Ryuji's chest heaved, every breath a mix of smoke, fear, and fury. Each step deeper into darkness felt heavier, the echoes of fallen kin chasing him. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself onward, knowing that survival now meant carrying the weight of an entire legacy. When they finally reached the hidden chamber, he collapsed to his knees.
His grandfather knelt beside him, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. "The world believes the Kasai Clan is gone," he said quietly. "Let them believe it. That belief will keep you alive."
Ryuji stared down at his hands—small, trembling, but glowing faintly with residual heat. His Shinryoku had quieted, but deep inside, something had awakened. Something that would never sleep again.
"What happens now?" he whispered.
"Now we wait," his grandfather replied, his voice heavy. "We rebuild in the shadows. And one day, when your flame is strong enough… you will rise. For the Kasai. For your parents."
Ryuji nodded slowly. He didn't understand how. He didn't know when. But the promise ignited inside him like a second heartbeat.
Above them, the valley still burned.
Below, a single spark survived.
And far away, beneath the same blood-red sky, Kazuki stood on his palace balcony, watching the distant glow of the flames. A faint smile curved his lips.
"It's done," he murmured.
But behind him, in the shadows, one of the black-armored enforcers knelt silently.
"The boy… survived."
Kazuki's smile faded.
"Good," he said softly. "Let him grow. A flame untested cannot be controlled."
The wind carried the scent of smoke and fate.
The Kasai Clan was gone—or so the world believed.
But the Shinryoku burns eternal.