Shura Nightblood’s sculpted muscles burned. The blood-ink tattoos that covered his body glowed as his rage built up. The shadowy creature was cowering against the stairs. He chased the demon across the barren landscapes of his own world, across the thirteen hells, and finally here, to this bizarre dimension where universes intermingled.

He smirked. “Look at how far you’ve fallen, Nazrim.” The demon Nazrim had once been a colossal beast, dark and terrible, mountains trembling in its wake. It was now nothing more than a small, shriveled husk.

Nazrim hissed at him. “I made you what you are!” it shrieked. It was true. Shura Nightblood was orphaned by the demon, stealing his kingdom and his future, forcing him to fight in the Mercy Pits, slaughtering his blood brothers at Drugan Pass, poisoning his love on their wedding day.

If you strike me down, you’ll be just as wretched as me!” spat Nazrim.

A cruel smile slid across Shura’s face. “I became the devil long ago.”

He raised his hulking sword, a claymore named Shatterstar. It was twice as tall as his own seven foot, well muscled frame. Finally, his quest of ten long years and a thousand trials was at an end.

“You have escaped me many times before, but now I have you. You’ll pay for every hell I’ve chased you through. Any last words, Nazrim? Lord of Cockroaches, slayer of the innocent, perjurer of the heavenly court, line cutter of-”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“What’s that sound?”

Shura paused.

“What?”

“That sound, don't you hear it?”

Shura did hear it. Footsteps coming from just up the stairs. Were those…three women?

“Look! I can see one in that river!” said the dark skinned one.

“Does it lead back to Cobpleton?” asked the old one.

“Who cares! It’s better than here!” said the third one. She had shockingly red hair, a color that Shura had never seen before. Were those crystals she was wearing over her eyes.

They sprinted down the steps. Shura barely had enough time to make way.

“Coming through! We got a portal to catch!” shouted the redhead. The trio ran past. The old one bumped into his shoulder. In any other circumstance, he would have been a brick wall of rage of protein, but the surprise nearly sent him toppling over the edge into infinity.

“Sorry! I really like your skin doodles!” she called back.

Shura watched the women disappear down the steps and dive into a portal. He briefly wondered at what he just witnessed, and couldn’t shake the feeling that he was interrupting something. Oh well, he thought as he cracked his knuckles. Back to the ten year, thousand trial quest.

“Any last words before I cleave you in twain-”

Nazrim was gone. Shura’s head spun around, looking for any sign of the demon.

“Oh shit.”

Shura looked around at the vast emptiness of the Weaving Plane. Oh well, what was another ten years and a thousand more trials. When you devoted your life to revenge you didn’t have much else going on.