Jastheman

Ochi Nakagura, known as "The Dead Man," has lived for centuries, a broken soul bound by an unrelenting curse that grants him immortality and the power to battle the darkest creatures of the Abyss. With every battle fought and every life taken, he grows stronger, but the price of this power is heavy—the endless cycle of pain, loss, and isolation.

Driven by an unwavering desire to reunite with the family he lost long ago, Ochi embarks on a dangerous journey through the Abyss, a dark realm teeming with unimaginable horrors. As he faces countless monstrous beings, Ochi's power grows, but so does the cost. The Abyss demands everything from him—his soul, his sanity, and the very essence of his being.

Along the way, Ochi discovers that his true enemy is not just the darkness outside, but the darkness within himself. To reclaim what he has lost, he must confront the price of his immortality and the choice that will define his fate. Will he sacrifice his humanity to gain the power needed to bring his family back, or will the Abyss consume him, leaving him a hollow shell of the man he once was?

In this epic tale of sacrifice, strength, and the enduring power of love, Ochi Nakagura must face the ultimate test: will he conquer the Abyss, or will it consume him entirely?

In the end, there is only one question left to answer: what is Ochi willing to sacrifice for the family he has lost?

the man of a thousand years and battles

The battlefield was silent. Not the kind of silence before a storm, but the eerie stillness that follows death. Thousands of corpses littered the ground, swords broken, armor shattered, and the scent of blood thick in the air. The banners of empires long forgotten fluttered weakly in the wind, their colors faded, their causes meaningless.

Yet, amidst the carnage, a single man stood.

For a moment, his mind was blank. His body felt… whole. Strange. He remembered dying—no, he had died. Again. His hands trembled as he touched his chest, where a spear had impaled him just moments ago. But there was no wound. No pain. Only the same gnawing emptiness that always followed his return.

"The thousandth time…" Ochi muttered, his voice raspy from disuse. "Or was it more?"

A thousand years. A thousand deaths. A thousand battles. He had stopped counting long ago. Once, he had been a warrior of honor, fighting for his homeland, his people. Now, he was something else. A specter, a legend whispered in fear.

The world around him had changed again. The battlefield was unfamiliar, the corpses wearing armor of a new era. He had seen this pattern before. Every time he returned, the world had moved forward, kingdoms had risen and fallen, civilizations crumbled, and new powers emerged. And he remained. Cursed. Eternal.

He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, feeling the power surge through his veins. Each death made him stronger. He could feel it, the weight of a thousand lifetimes pressing down on him, the knowledge of countless warriors etched into his soul.

Ochi turned, eyes cold, and met the gaze of a young soldier—a survivor. The boy's hands shook as he raised his sword, barely able to hold its weight. His armor bore the crest of an unfamiliar kingdom, his face twisted in fear.

"You… you were dead!" the soldier stammered.

Ochi stepped forward. The movement was effortless, smooth, unnatural. He had long since surpassed the limits of mere mortals.

The soldier didn't hesitate. He turned and fled, his armor clanking as he disappeared into the ruins of the battlefield.

Ochi sighed. He had no interest in killing children. Not anymore.

Lifting his gaze to the dark horizon, he could already feel it—the pull of the next battle, the whisper of war calling him once more. Somewhere, a kingdom was on the brink of collapse, a tyrant was rising, or a hero was forging their legend. And Ochi Nakagura would be there, as he always was.

The dead man rises