Chapter 13: Chakra beasts
Majin descended the stairs, his ministers trailing behind him. The staircase was modest in width, only about ten feet across, and bathed in a somber gloom.
The only sources of light were lanterns sporadically hanging on the moss-covered walls, their flickering flames casting long, dancing shadows.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, growing more pungent with each step they took deeper into the bowels of the imperial palace.
While the ministers clutched their noses to shield themselves from the overpowering smell, Majin relished it.
Having claimed his first life at the tender age of four and fought in brutal wars a decade prior, the scent of blood was a familiar comfort to him, almost soothing in its familiarity.
As Majin reached the deepest part of the palace, which doubled as a dungeon, a chorus of heavy, synchronized footsteps greeted him.
"We greet you, your majesty," intoned the guards, their voices echoing off the damp stone walls. They stood rigidly before a giant iron gate, the sole entrance to the Akuma Clan's dungeon.
The gate itself was an imposing structure, adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to writhe in the lantern light.
This dungeon was evidently of great importance, Even it's entrance was guarded not just by any soldiers, but by several jonin-rank shinobi from the Akuma Clan.
Each guard stood like a statue, their eyes sharp and alert, making it clear that nothing could breach this fortified entrance under their watch.
These shinobi were distinct from the typical warriors of the Demon Empire; their allegiance was not to any individual, but solely to the dungeon and its contents.
The emperor alone could command them within this domain, their duties strictly confined to the underground labyrinth.
Even Kura, powerful as he was, could not enlist these dungeon guards to oppose Majin, for they would not intervene unless the new emperor was not from the akuma clan.
"Open the gate," Majin commanded as he approached the formidable barrier. "I have business within the dungeon."
"As you wish, Your Majesty," replied one of the shinobi, his voice resonating with a metallic clarity.
He pulled a large, ornate key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock, the heavy clanking of metal echoing ominously as the gate creaked open.
"You! Are you the new emperor?" The question rang out sharply across the cold stone hall as Majin stepped through the gate.
He was met by a dismal sight: rows upon rows of prison cells, each holding weary souls, their eyes reflecting decades of despair. Among them, an old man shouted from behind the bars, his voice desperate and cracking.
"P-Please let this old man out! I have been held here for the past 50 years," he pleaded, his hands and legs marked with scaly patches from long years of confinement.
Unlike him, the other prisoners merely stared blankly from their cells, their spirits broken and their hope for freedom extinguished.
[A/N: How it should be]
Majin paused, his gaze sweeping over the aged prisoner and then scanning the silent, desolate faces behind the iron bars.
The dungeon was a stark reminder of the empire's harsh realities, each prisoner a story of thwarted dreams and unyielding authority.
Majin's cold gaze swept past the old man without a hint of sympathy. To him, those imprisoned in the dungeon had dared defy the Akuma Clan's authority and thus deserved their fate.
"You dare speak to His Majesty?" rebuked a shinobi accompanying Majin. In a swift motion, he unleashed an electric jutsu, channeling a surge of energy through the iron bars.
The old man's screams filled the air as the electricity coursed through him, ultimately rendering him unconscious from the intense pain.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. The criminals here can be... unruly," the shinobi said, ceasing his attack and offering an apologetic bow to Majin.
Majin, however, continued on, unfazed by the commotion. The dungeon extended vast and foreboding around him, a massive labyrinth designed to contain thousands of powerful shinobi who had dare to defy or rebel aginst the Akuma Clan.
Guarded equally by thousands more, the dungeon was a stronghold of suppressed rebellion and tightly controlled power.
Despite it being his first visit, Majin navigated the corridors with ease. His teenage years had been spent memorizing the layout of the imperial castle, a strategic move that now paid dividends.
After a brisk ten-minute walk, Majin and his trailing ministers arrived at an imposing door, larger and more daunting than the dungeon's entrance.
"Y-Your Majesty, are you sure you want to do this?" one minister ventured, his voice trembling. The ministers were palpably unnerved, the malevolent aura seeping from behind the door instilling a deep, visceral fear in them.
Majin responded not with words but with a chilling glare that silenced any further questions. His expression alone was enough to intimidate the minister more than the ominous aura could.
Being far from the combat prowess of a jonin, the minister was easily cowed.
"I understand, Your Majesty," the minister muttered, bowing deeply. It was clear from Majin's determined glare that his intentions were set, and no one would dare oppose him
"Let's get this done," Majin declared with a steely resolve, approaching the immense gate. In a deliberate gesture, he bit into his finger, drawing blood.
Carefully, he smeared the fresh blood across the surface of the door. Intricate formations instantly began to emerge, glowing with an ethereal light as the giant barrier began to creak open of its own accord.
The door was sealed with a chakra blood formation, a complex mechanism designed so that only the blood of someone bound to the formation could unlock it.
Although the spell had been cast by an ancestor of Majin's centuries earlier, his lineage within the Akuma Clan meant his blood still held the key.
Roar!
As the gate swung wide, a thunderous roar erupted from within, echoing menacingly through the dungeon. The force of the sound knocked Majin's ministers to the ground, their hands clutching their ears in agony.
The walls of the dungeon, built to contain the most formidable, trembled and fissured under the sheer power of the roar.
"A high-grade Chakra beast!" Majin exclaimed as his eyes settled on the source of the tumult.
Before him lay a colossal black dragon, its scales glistening ominously in the dim light. The beast was bound by golden chains that pierced its flesh, embedding deeply within its massive form.
Unlike tailed beasts, which were manifestations of pure chakra requiring a host to wield their power, Chakra beasts like this dragon were natural creatures that had the innate ability to use chakra independently.
Chakra beasts varied greatly in strength, divided into categories from low to top grade. The higher the grade, the more formidable and rare the beast.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
lord_aurelian
lord_aurelian Okay, guys, I just wanted to ask something... Should I add more detailed gore to the story? The war arc is going to start soon and it will be pretty detailed, so should I include super detailed gore.
And leave a comment or this allmigthy author will haunt you in your dreams.
(Just kididng)
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