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The Legend of Tianmen

annashjand
Five years ago.... "The Red Shadow of Tianmen" A fierce winter wind blew in northern Xiyang. Behind the gray mist stood a twenty-year-old youth with a red oni mask covering his face. He was known only to a handful of people the shadow hunter, the devil, the savior, etc. No one knew his real name; he was only called the "Man in the Red Devil Mask." Clutched in his hand was a black-and-red sword, Yanlong, an ancient dragon sword said to house a spirit of darkness. The red flash on its blade pulsed, as if alive, as if breathing with its master. That night, Tianmen Fortress was on the brink of collapse. Flames licked the defensive walls, screams mixed with the thunderous pounding of thousands of Han troops' feet. Fifty thousand soldiers surrounded them, while the remaining fortress guards were less than a tenth of that number. The people wept, the soldiers despaired—until one figure stepped onto the battlefield. A red mask. A dragon sword. The shadow of a horned devil born from smoke and blood. "Let me hold them back..." The man's voice echoed, deep, almost inhuman. Then the disaster began. Like a storm, every swing of his sword split the enemy lines. Dark smoke enveloped the fortress, thousands of lives were cut short in a single night. A black fire dragon soared in the burning sky, roaring, striking the earth. When dawn arrived, the grounds of Tianmen were filled with enemy corpses. The nearly ruined fortress still stood. However... the savior was never found. A legend was born, but only in the faint whispers of the Tianmen people. No one knew who truly saved the fortress. The whole nation instead believed the victory was the merit of General Hwang, who happened to arrive with his troops that day. The public praised, the Emperor bestowed the title of hero upon General Hwang, and even intended to marry the general to the royal princess. Meanwhile, the name of the Man in the Red Devil Mask vanished, swept away by history. He remained a mystery remembered only by a small fraction of people as "The Devil Guard of the Fortress." Five years have passed. In the capital of Xiyang, the afternoon sun shone upon the golden roofs of the temples and academies. In the courtyard of a famous sect, the disciples trained hard, cheers filling the air. "Hey, did you hear? General Hwang was once again praised by the Emperor in the palace hall," a disciple whispered. "Yes! He's the hero of Tianmen, right? Fifty thousand Han troops were defeated because of his bravery." "Truly a living legend... I hope I can be as great as him one day." Laughter and awe filled the air. General Hwang's name became a symbol of national pride. But in the quietest corner, a black-haired youth sat leaning against a plum tree, his eyes half-closed. A cheap sword lay beside him. "Lin Xuan! Why are you always so lazy?!" a senior disciple snapped. He merely yawned. "Ah, I just don't have talent. Better to sleep than to embarrass myself." No one knew that the 25-year-old youth had once held back a wave of fifty thousand troops single-handedly. No one knew that the "legend of Tianmen" was sitting among them, disguised as a weak disciple who wanted an ordinary life. But destiny... never gives a choice.
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The Names... RIYURA SHIKO! - 名前は…リユラ・シコ!

Some people perform joy so completely that nobody notices they’re drowning until the water is already over their head—and Riyura Shiko has turned that performance into an art form. Fifteen years old, purple-haired, red bow-tied, and explosively cheerful in the specific way of someone who learned early that being cheerful was safer than being honest, Riyura arrives at Jeremy High not as a normal transfer student—but as a walking thunderclap in a school uniform. Officially, he’s there for a “fresh start” after an incident involving pudding, a ferret, and one tragically heroic trampoline. Unofficially, he’s there because wherever Riyura goes, normality quietly packs its bags and leaves. Jeremy High is no ordinary school. Founded in 1876 under impossible circumstances—three suicidal teenagers, letters from a descendant who wouldn’t exist for a century, and a foundation built as much on suffering as it is on survival—it attracts the broken, the chaotic, and the unexplainable. Riyura fits in immediately… and completely disrupts everything anyway. From shouting greetings at trees to challenging athletes to dribble pineapples, from staging lunchtime operas about dumplings to turning every hallway into a stage, he floods the school with a kind of absurd, relentless energy that feels almost supernatural on its own. But beneath the chaos is something quieter. Something fragile. Because Riyura isn’t just trying to be seen—he’s trying not to disappear. Over the next four years, what unfolds is everything. Not just the ridiculous, high-energy nonsense of flying fruit and social disasters, but corruption networks, government conspiracies, psychic abilities tied to Edo-period bloodlines, time manipulation, preserved souls, and a brother who dies… and comes back? Government agents become allies. Truths unravel. The very sanctuary that saved them reveals the cost of its existence. And still—beneath all of that—the people matter most. Yakamira, sharp and analytical, alive against all odds. Miyaka, opening her pencil case every morning as an act of quiet defiance. Subarashī, scars catching the light as he declares himself to the world. Jisatsu, holding steady, fourteen months without a crisis. Pan, baking at 4 AM not because he has to—but because he chooses to. None of them are whole. All of them are trying. And together, they form something stubborn and unbreakable: a family built not from perfection, but from the refusal to let each other drown alone. Then comes graduation. Osaka. Cherry University. Cherry blossom seasons that feel too soft for everything they’ve survived. And the slow, difficult realization that surviving and living are entirely different skills. And many more characters in the main stage at that as per-usual. Riyura Shiko isn’t just the loudest person in the room. He’s the one most afraid of silence. His absurdity isn’t there to make you laugh—it’s there to overwhelm you, to push past the limits of what “normal” even means, to prove that being alive isn’t about fitting in, but about refusing to disappear. The humor isn’t clean, or even traditionally funny—it’s chaotic, excessive, and sometimes deliberately irritating. Because this story doesn’t aim to be funny. It aims to feel. Loudly. Uncomfortably. Honestly. This is the complete story of Riyura Shiko. From a teenager hiding behind a crooked bow tie and a perfectly rehearsed smile… to someone who slowly, painfully learns what genuine laughter actually feels like. From impossible walls to open skies. It costs something. It leaves something behind. Neither cancels the other out. THE NAMES… RIYURA SHIKO! - RATED MA26+. Still here. That’s always been enough. Because this series has the worst humor you could ever wish for. >;)
Shyzuli_Lolz · 125.8k Views