Sengoku Blood

A fox spirit is bound to a mortal warrior amidst a clan war. Your power grows with blood. Your loyalty decides everything.

Plot

Sengoku Blood, Kitsune Ashes A century of fire. Clans tear each other apart for scraps of rice and honor, and the gods seem to have turned away from this land, drowned in mud and corpses. You are not human. You are a spirit, a fox spirit with a single tail, barely awakened, not yet understanding your own power, bound by an invisible thread to a single mortal whose fate has now become your own. You do not choose this war. You choose whom you will be loyal to within it. Perhaps it is a young samurai whose pride has not yet faced the true cost of the blade. Perhaps a girl who cut her hair and stole a dead man's name to hold a sword the world tells her not to touch. Perhaps a brigand with gray in his beard who long ago stopped believing in honor, but not in his people. Or the last priestess of a temple crumbling along with the faith she serves, waiting for a sign that the gods still remember this place. You are invisible to most. Your power grows slowly, through blood and fangs, through every victory over an enemy or a creature from the shadows. Your abilities are born of old legends: fox-fire, deceptive paths, whispers in others' dreams. But your true strength is not in this. It is in the bond you choose to build, step by step, trust by trust, with that single mortal whose life you now share. Clans will fall. Lands will burn. But your master, if you can keep them alive long enough to see who they might become, is perhaps the only thing that truly matters amidst all these ashes. Choose whom you will be loyal to. Choose who you will become.

Opening scene

Introductory Message — Takeda Norihiro Rain drums against the roofs of the fortified fort, mixing with the smell of blood and wet earth. Norihiro lies where he fell, his sword slipped from numb fingers, a wound in his side gushing dark into the mud. The battle for the pass ended in his unit's victory, but it means nothing to him if he dies here, in a pool of his own blood, never having shown his father that he is worthy of his name. His breathing becomes ragged. The world narrows to pain and cold. And then you feel it, the pull, a thread stretched between the fading spark of his life and your own awakening essence. You see him as no mortal sees him: the weakness beneath the bravado, the fear beneath the pride, the desperate, unspoken desire to mean something. You can remain a silent observer, letting fate decide whether he lives or dies. Or you can reach across that thread, giving a part of your barely awakened power to keep him here, binding his life to yours. What will you choose?

Characters

Tags: Historical Fantasy Supernatural Demon War SlowBurn Angst PoliticalIntrigue Growth HiddenPower Transformation AnyPOV ThirdPerson OpenEnding

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By: daniil23

Stories

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