The young man dragged his exhausted body along the rugged mountain path, a trail of stone winding endlessly before his eyes.
The sky was blanketed by heavy, dark clouds—sunlight stood no chance of piercing the gloom.
A biting wind swept over him, laced with the stench of death.
How many days had it been since he arrived here? He had lost all sense of time.
This place knew no distinction between day and night. At every hour, the sky remained shrouded in oppressive darkness.
"...It's like the Land of the Dead..."
Tenkei Shiomi muttered to himself.
He tightened his grip on the wooden stick in his hand—a crude weapon he had picked up along the way, barely serviceable.
The reason he needed a weapon was simple—
A gust of wind swept down the mountain path, and from the murky black mist emerged forms—skeletons, undead, and ghost-like figures.
The dead, with faces shriveled and rotten; skeletons stripped of any flesh; and monsters cloaked in ragged hoods, their faces hidden in shadows, save for eyes that glowed like ghostly flames.
These creatures held rusted swords and spears in their hands.
Shiomi knew—they had surrounded him.
The danger radiating from them was unmistakable.
He couldn't let them close. Despite their staggering gait, they swung their weapons with terrifying strength.
Timing his move, he dodged the first skeleton's strike and countered with a blow to its neck. The skull flew off, rolled several times across the ground, and finally stopped.
The rest of the skeleton collapsed backward in a heap.
The other monsters let out eerie, ghastly shrieks and rushed at Tenkei Shiomi in waves.
His stamina had long been depleted after facing wave upon wave of these assaults. He always seemed to be a breath away from death, yet it never came.
And it was that very instinct to survive that had helped Shiomi gradually learn how to fight them. Each encounter sharpened his techniques, and he began to understand how to counter them.
The instant a sword or spear was raised, he could predict the trajectory, dodge the fatal blow, and strike back.
His body moved like a combat machine, meeting each enemy with precision.
But numbers overwhelmed skill. His wooden stick, worn down from repeated clashes, eventually shattered.
He dodged the slash of one undead creature and rolled backward—only to land within the attack range of another group. Weapons came crashing down from all sides.
Whoosh—
A brilliant red light flashed through the darkness. In an instant, every monster—and their weapons—disintegrated into dust.
"Oh? I didn't expect anyone to be alive, let alone make it this far. I thought it was just a mirage and came out to check... but it seems I've found a fine specimen."
A crimson spear pointed at Tenkei Shiomi. Its wielder spoke in a cold, noble tone.
The wind, still heavy with death, howled past his face. Her long hair streamed in the wind, framing her masked face.
Exhausted as he was, and even though her face was covered, Shiomi couldn't help but hold his breath—she radiated an otherworldly beauty.
"You've reached the Shadow Realm and now stand before its ruler, sovereign of this foreign, demonic domain. Warrior—state your name."
She withdrew her spear and planted it firmly in the ground.
"Shiomi... Tenkei..."
[Congratulations. You've survived in the Land of Shadows and met its queen. But don't think it ends here. From this point on, your death-laden journey has only just begun♥]
As Shiomi spoke his name, it was as if someone—or something—etched the words directly into his mind. Not spoken aloud, but embedded within him like a brand.
He could sense it clearly—he had stepped into a fate he knew nothing about...