Japan. 1185 AD. A time of great and violent upheaval. A land torn apart by famine and war. Blood bathed the once-tranquil landscape. Famine was an ever-present danger. Brother fought brother over scraps of land and rice, and armies fell by the thousands at the edges of razor-sharp swords. The feudal lords, the Daimyo, powerful, righteous men, called upon the unyielding Samurai warriors to band together and wade into the battlefield; to draw their swords and destroy their enemies.
Unknown to these brave warriors, a conflict raged among the gods and devils that inhabited the space between the living and the dead. Angry gods battled each other with little care for the lives or souls that fell victim to their folly. As blood spilled, the gods laughed. When warriors died, these angry gods saw opportunity.
Among these warriors was a novice Bushi named Takeda. He was a fearless hero who ignored the key instruction of the Samurai way: Never draw your sword in anger. To draw in anger blinded the warrior's soul and enabled the devils to control a bushi's weapon.
Takeda was young and brash, and he allowed the anger to boil in his veins. He disliked being "one of many" and wished to rise quickly through the ranks of the Samurai. To do this, Takeda used his rage to ruthlessly slaughter numerous enemies and allowed his anger to control him in battle.
His violent rage would be Takeda's undoing. The eyes of the devils followed his deeds with interest. Whenever a human reached pinnacles of violence, the lords of bile watched ... waited.