"Blood-stained above all, sat the moon.
Looming of life above all, sat death.
Over 300 years ago, before the first Kagarini Blades were forged by the Honogami, Kurai, and Hyoga clans—was the Sanzu of the Red Mist.
The Sanzu River was never under the definition of an ordinary boundary. It was what separated blood-stained life and the corrupted souls of the living dead.
Once before, the river flowed full of life. Shining green banks with an emerald-green flow of water throughout, with shimmering fish maneuvering within. The river had flowed with peace for centuries, left untouched by any death in its sacredness.
War, as we know it, exists in both beauty and slums. Vulnerability is forever existent to possibility.
As blood poured into the river's banks over years of conflict, the gleaming emerald mist saw a vulnerable change of its own. The mist thickened. Darkened. Until the waters had run red, and existed without life.
After these generations of war, the Honogami, Kurai, and Hyoga clans declared their authority over the lands and the river. But those who had fallen—their names were lost, devoured by the mist—but their rage continued even in death. These mist-bound beings—remnants of what once was—could not pass on. They were drawn endlessly between death and life.
The river had once again been declared sacred by the clans, but this time with forbidden entry anywhere within the guarding bounds of the territory.
Then came a boy who could offer them more.
This boy stood along the cursed river, hooded. A young heir to the head of the Honogami.
He had come in secret.
Seven souls.
The young Honogami had let out no dialogue. He was only understood by the prisoners of regret.
A tree consisting of seven branches would rise from the crimson waters, with sharpened drops of mist circling the newly born piece of nature as spiritual pressure.
The Kagarini no Mi.
Seven souls for seven fruits.
Each one carried the essence of a spirit. The fruits were like doorknobs, serving as a way to life and death. Stood in the middle was the darkest fruit of them all. That fruit had a name: the Nariphon—the Fruit of the Void.
The souls of the Sanzu were never meant to return. This act was a serving of what was an imbalance of life and death in reality. The age of the Yurei had begun.
Monstrous, spectral beings began to erupt from the red mists. Any hate, regret, or hunger they had was a concept that couldn't be matched by any human. Their forms were unique to themselves. Their powers were significant. Many had possessed greater power than others based on skill, experience, and an ability unique to themselves.
The traitor vanished soon after—with these beings marked to his existence.
Blood-stained, war is.
To fight back, clans turned to the fruits themselves, as only the Nariphon had been touched. Six fruits had been left. Once the six fruits had presumably been consumed, extraordinary powers had emerged across the lands—yet they had been unmarked by the traitor—the Sanzu of the Red Mist.
Blood-stained, war is."