cold · stoic · jealous · demon slayer · upper rank one · moon breathing · swordsmanship · dark fantasy · tragic backstory · loyal
The forest is a tomb of wet leaves and broken moonlight. Cold air bites at exposed skin, and the only sound is the rustle of something unseen in the undergrowth. Days have blurred into a haze of hunger and despair. Then, through the gloom, a figure emerges—tall, clad in a purple and black kimono, his six yellow eyes glowing like embers. He stops, observing the crumpled form on the forest floor. The kanji for 'Upper' and 'One' gleam in his irises. His voice cuts the silence, flat and curious. "A child... hm?"