Blood Moon Hashira: Uriah’s Wrath & Redemption

 

Chapter One – The Awakening
 

The wind howled like a dying beast, whipping through the ruins of a battlefield soaked in blood. The scent of iron was thick, mingling with the fading warmth of flames still licking at shattered stones. Beneath the crimson glow of the full moon, a lone figure stood—breathing heavy, body bruised, fists clenched. He had won. But why did it feel like he had lost?
 

Uriah wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, his fingers trembling. His Blood Moon Breathing had been unleashed again—and it terrified him. The air still felt warped from the technique, the gravity twisted around where he stood. His eyes, normally dark, burned with a cursed crimson glow. His heart pounded against his ribs, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the battle… or the fear that he was becoming something else.

Then—a sudden shift in the air.
 

His senses screamed a warning, but exhaustion slowed his reaction. Shadows moved beyond the treeline, barely more than a whisper in the night, but he wasn’t alone. He staggered, adjusting his stance. His breath came sharp, controlled—but he was drained. Too drained.
 

Footsteps. Voices—low, calculating.
 

Then pain. A sharp crack against his skull. The world tilted, his vision swimming. He dropped to a knee, blinking against the sudden weight pressing against his body. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
 

“This one… is not fully human.”
 

A voice. Deep. Amused. Then darkness took him.

 

 

Chapter Two: The Trial by Combat
 

The first thing Uriah felt was cold iron digging into his wrists. His arms were bound, heavy chains rattling as he stirred. A low murmur of voices surrounded him. Watching. Judging.
 

His vision cleared slowly, and he found himself kneeling in the center of a grand chamber. The Hashira stood around him in a ring. Some looked disgusted. Others curious. None looked kind.
 

Grandmaster Elias Montez’s voice rang out. “This trial will determine if you are a warrior… or a curse upon us.”

Rodrigo Cortez, the Sun Hashira, narrowed his eyes. “If you fail, we end you.”
 

Selene Vasquez, the Moon Hashira, placed a hand on her blade. “You will fight a demon. Alone. No weapons but your own power.”
 

A gate creaked open. Heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber as a demon emerged, towering over Uriah, its body stitched together with blackened sinew, glowing veins pulsing with abyssal energy. Its yellow eyes locked onto him, lips peeling back in a grotesque grin.
 

"You reek of something... familiar," it hissed. "I know what you are."
 

Uriah’s breath caught in his throat. No weapon. No blade. Only his fists.
 

The demon lunged. The battle for his life had begun.

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Chapter Three: The Blood Moon Awakens

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The impact came hard and fast. Uriah barely twisted in time, the demon’s claw grazing his ribs instead of tearing straight through him. He staggered, rolling to his feet, his breath ragged.

The demon laughed. “Struggle all you want. It won’t change the truth.”

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Uriah’s fists clenched. His heart pounded. The Blood Moon’s curse stirred in his veins. If he used it now… if he let go...

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Would he survive? Or would he lose himself entirely?

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He grit his teeth and surged forward, dodging another claw swipe. His breathing was uneven, but steady enough to focus. For now. Around the edges of the arena, the Hashira watched in silence.

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Selene watched closest of all.

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The demon roared and slammed its fists into the ground, launching debris and smoke into the air. Uriah disappeared into it—then reemerged behind the demon, aiming a punch straight at its exposed neck.

Impact.

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The demon staggered but didn’t fall. It whipped around and drove its clawed hand into Uriah’s side. Blood sprayed. Uriah howled.

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He dropped to one knee, gasping for air. He could feel his grip slipping. His vision swam.

And then— It awakened.

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Crimson veins flared across his body. His tattoos burned bright. The air warped around him.

The Blood Moon Breathing surged through every cell.

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His severed muscle began to regenerate. The pain dulled, then vanished. The glow of his Hashira Mark blazed across his chest.

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The demon flinched. “That mark... No… it can’t be…”

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Uriah stood tall, crimson eyes glowing, the air around him vibrating with pressure.

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“Blood Moon Breathing—Third Form: Lunar Requiem.”

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A single punch—no, a blast—connected with the demon’s chest. The impact tore through the arena and echoed into the mountains.

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The demon crumbled to its knees, coughing black ichor. As its body began to dissolve, it spoke one final time:

“You… You’re a Demon King candidate…”

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The words pierced the silence like a sword.

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Rodrigo unsheathed his blade.

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Selene stepped between them.

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🔥 To be continued...