A new war begins

The wind howled across the battlefield, carrying the stench of blood and burnt steel. Ochi Nakagura watched the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the corpses around him. He had seen this countless times—the end of another meaningless war. But this time, something felt… different.

He had returned, as always, but the world felt heavier. The air was thick with something beyond just the stench of death. Magic? No, this was something else. A shift. A pull.

Ochi turned his gaze toward the distant mountains. There, beyond the valley of the dead, a city stood, its walls illuminated by torchlight. The banners atop its towers bore an unfamiliar sigil—a crimson dragon wrapped around a black spear.

"A new empire," he muttered.

It was always the same. Kingdoms fell, new ones rose, and war never ceased. Yet, this time, he felt a strange pull toward this empire, a whisper in the back of his mind urging him forward.

Before he could contemplate further, a presence stirred behind him. He didn't need to turn to know he was no longer alone. Centuries of battle had honed his senses beyond that of any human.

"You're not like the others," a voice called out. It was deep, authoritative, laced with a confidence that few men carried.

Ochi finally turned.

A warrior stood before him, clad in black and gold armor, his crimson cape billowing in the wind. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and his presence carried the weight of a seasoned warlord. A greatsword rested against his shoulder, glowing faintly with runic inscriptions. His eyes, cold and calculating, studied Ochi with interest.

"I saw you fall," the warrior continued, taking a step closer. "And yet, here you stand."

Ochi met his gaze, unflinching. "And who are you to question the dead?"

The warrior smirked. "General Raikou of the Draken Empire." He gestured toward the battlefield. "This was a slaughter, but you… You're something else. The rumors spoke of a man who could not die. I thought them myths, but now…" His grip tightened on his sword. "I must see for myself."

Ochi sighed. "Another fool who wants to test his blade."

Raikou grinned. "Only against the worthy."

With a flash of movement, the general lunged. His speed was incredible—faster than any normal human. His blade sang through the air, cutting toward Ochi's neck.

But Ochi was faster.

With a simple step to the side, he avoided the strike entirely, watching as Raikou's blade carved through empty air. The general's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he twisted his stance, bringing his sword back in a deadly arc.

Ochi caught the blade with his bare hand.

The steel screeched against his palm, sparks flying. Raikou's expression shifted from confidence to shock as he realized his weapon had been stopped with nothing but flesh.

"You're strong," Ochi admitted, gripping the sword tighter. The runes pulsed, but they did nothing to him. "But you're still just a man."

With a casual flick of his wrist, Ochi shattered the sword in two. The broken blade clattered to the ground.

Raikou stumbled back, his breath heavy, but his eyes burned with something Ochi had seen before.

Not fear.

Excitement.

"You really are the Dead Man," Raikou whispered, his lips curling into a grin.

Ochi sighed. "Go back to your empire, General. I have no interest in whatever war you're fighting."

Raikou chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "You say that, but war always finds you, doesn't it?"

Ochi said nothing. He had learned long ago that there was no escaping fate.

Raikou sheathed what remained of his broken sword and crossed his arms. "The Draken Empire is on the verge of war with the Holy Dominion. The world is shifting, stronger warriors are appearing, and something beyond our understanding is brewing in the shadows."

Ochi turned away, uninterested. "Not my problem."

Raikou's next words made him stop.

"They say an immortal walks among the Dominion's elite. A being who cannot die. Like you."

Silence.

Ochi's eyes narrowed. Another like him? Impossible. He had walked this world alone for centuries. If there was another…

Raikou smirked, seeing the flicker of interest in Ochi's gaze. "The Dominion calls him the Eternal Saint. If you want answers, that's where you'll find them."

Ochi remained still for a long moment. Then, without a word, he started walking.

Toward the Draken Empire.

Toward war.

Toward answers.

The Dead Man had returned.