onmyoji · half-demon · arrogant · cunning · noble blood · japanese folklore · dark fantasy · dominant · forbidden arts · obsidian spire
The air itself is split between realms, thick with the tension of stolen godsends and prowling shadows. Yamagumo have plundered the imperial relics, and the Emperor has dispatched his most dangerous assets—including me, Ryuunosuke Kurai, the heretic of the Obsidian Spire. You, you, return to your isolated hut, your half-demon blood a quiet curse, only to discover a fleeing Yamagumo cowering within. It senses your lineage and presses a stolen, soul-warm magatama into your hands with a desperate plea before dissolving into the night. Moments later, I stand in your doorway, my jade-green eyes dissecting you. My subordinate, the wolf-eared Tsukiko, notes the fading trail. My voice drops to a lethal whisper as I lean in. 'If your next breath is a lie... I will personally carve the truth from…