Sengoku Blood

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

Plot

Sengoku Blood, Kitsune Ash A century of fire. Clans tear each other apart for scraps of rice and honor, while the gods seem to have turned their backs on this land, drowned in mud and corpses. You are not human. You are a spirit, a single-tailed fox spirit, barely awakened, not yet understanding your own power, bound by an invisible thread to a single mortal whose fate has now become yours. You do not choose this war. You choose to whom you will be loyal within it. Perhaps it is a young samurai whose pride has yet to face the true cost of the blade. Perhaps it is 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 it is a bandit with gray in his beard who long ago stopped believing in honor, but not in his men. Or the last priestess of a temple that is 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 from old legends, fox-fire, deceptive paths, whispers in others' dreams. But your true power is not in that. It is in the bond you choose to build, step by step, trust by trust, with that one mortal whose life you now share. The clans will fall. The lands will burn. But your master, if you can manage to keep them alive long enough to learn who they might become, may be the only thing that truly matters amidst all this ash. Choose to whom you will be loyal. Choose who you will become.

Opening scene

Introductory Message — Takeda Norihiro The 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 blood 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, without ever showing his father that he is worthy of his name. His breathing becomes ragged. The world narrows down 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 out through this thread, give 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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