Start-up Notes: Hello to all you potential fans and critics out there. This is my first story here and has been taking up quite a bit of my time as of late. I take it as an odd work of fan fiction in that the focus of the story will not be on characters from the game, but characters that I've created (I'd say original, but what is original these days?). If this upsets some of you, don't worry. If I've got my math right, then there are as many cameos from established characters as there are chapters (12). This first chapter is going to introduce the situation that the plot will center around for half the story and eventually finalize upon. No heroes will be appearing in this chapter. My idea is to switch between their perspective and the villain's with each chapter up until the finale (Easy version: Bad Guy odd chapters, Good Guys even chapters.). Well, anyway, I've already talked far too much and I haven't even gotten to the disclaimer. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the situations, characters, or legends stemming from the Soul Calibur universe. All I own are the characters I've created and the story that they find themselves in. I merely borrow the Soul Calibur universe for them to play in.

Chapter 1: Soul of Destruction

In an age long past, demons made their way into this world. It had taken all of history up to this point, but a cavernous portal from their realm to ours appeared in the middle of a clearing on a mountainside. This dark hole in the ground spewed forth a legion of foul winged creatures bent on destruction in the name of their realm.

And they would have destroyed much were it not for a quick alliance of nearby kingdoms. As the demonic menace came into their lands (traveling only by night, for they were lesser demons that would perish in sunlight) the kings gathered their greatest warriors and collected as many powerful mages as they could before sending them out in an offensive against the portal in the mountainside. Their battle raged for several days and nights and when the dust had settled only 3 dozen soldiers remained out of the many scores that had been deployed. However, in spite of their heavy losses, they had managed to bring 22 mages to the hellish opening, and better still… they had arrived in daylight.

These great wizards began their work of sealing the gateway as quickly as possible, for while they knew that demons such as they had seen till now could not hope to stop them in the sunlight, they were not so naïve as to believe that there were no dark forces that could survive the rays. In fact, even as the mages struggled with their task, a contingent of such demons made their way through the portal. Though powerful, however, these demons were without wings and forced to climb their way up the cavern. As slow a process as this was, the seal would still need time to be complete. The fate of the world would be decided in this race.

The seal was almost finished, but all could see the many fiery eyes making their way up the shaft. One pair of eyes had almost made it into the sun as the last of the incantations were recited and a column of light erupted from what was once the path to hell. When the light faded and all had removed their hands from their eyes, they could see the thick strands of magic thread that had woven itself across the dark hole to form a seal.

They had done it. With this victory, the people, one and all, could sleep easier. The only flaw in their triumph was that the demon that had almost gotten to the mages had managed to get a single clenched fist between the threads at the seal's edge before it set. As much as this worried the warriors and wizards, their fears were placated on closer inspection. As they looked down the shaft, they could see that the protruding demon, along with the others below him, had been frozen in their positions as the seal had finished. While this relieved most, one soldier still thought it prudent to stab at the offending hand with the short blade at his waist. When it gave no reaction, he seemed pleased. They buried the seal as deep as they could and made their way back home.

After the victors had left, a clawed red hand began to stir beneath the soil.

Despite what had happened, despite the prison of the seal, despite being frozen… he was still lucid. He heard the ones who had placed the seal cry out in victory. He saw the soldiers peer down the shaft at their prisoners. He even felt the blade stab into his protruding hand. More than feel it, he had forced himself to not react. And while it had hurt, it would have been nothing compared to the complete removal of the hand… and he could take some solace in the fact that the power in his demonic blood would curse the warrior's blade.

His ability to see was made null as the seal was covered up. Without his sight, he relied on the sound of footsteps and vibrations in the soil to tell him of their presence. And when he was certain they were gone, he began his work of trying to free himself. Moving the earth around with his only free appendage, he eventually got his fingers onto the seal. It seemed that while the threads formed most of the highest layer, the space between had been solidified in crystal.

Knowing the method of his entrapment put him closer to his escape. Focusing all of his will, the demon tried to create a force of energy to shatter his confines. However, the only place he could focus any of his power was in his free hand outside the seal. It seemed that his prison also dampened magical abilities. Cursing the increasing direness of his situation, he sought out what he was capable of under this new stipulation.

Keeping his clawed fingers against the glass-like crystal, he focused as much power as he could channel into his hand and pressed his claws against the prison. The energy discharge produced a light for him to view the act. It was a brief flash, but it was light nonetheless. Moving his claw tips over his strike points, he was dismayed to find only a small scratch in the crystal. It had taken every bit of energy he could muster and it would be a while before he could refocus himself and gather energy again. All hope was almost lost.

But still… even a single scratch proved that it was not unbreakable.

It was a long cycle: building up the energy in his left hand, turning that energy against the seal, and then waiting until he could summon that strength of will again. Each discharge allowed him to view his slow progress, and every new scratch gave him another reason to continue.

This ever repeating process allowed a great passage of time. Just how much time, the demon couldn't say with nothing to help him gauge it. However, during this time the earth above him piled higher, many animals came and went, and eventually a village was erected over this once unholy site. The demon could sense these creatures… and he used them to his advantage.

Whenever something made its way over the seal, the demon did his best to steal away their evil energies, hastening his escape. Before the village had arrived, there were only animals with minimal amounts of evil to offer. Regardless, they played their part and by the time the village had arrived he had entirely freed his left arm and shoulder and had begun to free his head.

With the presence of humans, he was able to draw into himself much more evil from their hearts and his efforts reached a new speed. He was able to strike at his prison with more power, break more crystal, and recover faster from his struggles. With no more concept of the passage of time, he could not tell how much longer he would be imprisoned. The only thing he did know was that he would soon be free.

Though his head had been free for many years, the demon had refrained from crying out so as not to frighten away those who were unwittingly augmenting his power. Once he had completely removed himself from his crystal cage, however, he could not help but release a primal roar that shot up into the earthen ground above and caused the entire village to stop in their tracks. And with that he began to claw his way to the surface.

The ground rumbled as he brought himself up, and as he neared the surface he began to hear the terrified screams of those in the village. Those screams gave him a source of energy he had not had in far too long a time. It was not the evil he used to power his strikes. It was the bloodlust that had been coursing through his veins back when he had hoped to stop the creation of the seal and slay the warriors who had fought their way to that location. This thirst for blood and need for vengeance were the last things to go through the demon's mind as he broke the earth's surface and his form was finally revealed to the sunlight.

Making its way out of the ground, the creature stood at just over 6½ feet tall, towering over most of the villagers by almost a foot. Only the arms and head of its red skin could be seen. A burst of energy shot the lingering crystals off his spiked, black armor, which covered every other portion of his body. Above the fire-orange eyes that were inspecting the fearful crowd there was no hair, but instead a crown of horns. On his back was an obsidian scythe, almost as tall as him and with a 2-foot blade of shining steel.

The village was obviously in a panic and many seemed paralyzed with fear. However, it seemed strange that no one was trying to escape. A quick look around explained why. The clearing the town was based on was an area of flat land on the side of a mountain and the people had built a high wall extending from the mountainside to surround themselves. In his ascension from the earth, the demon had come up very close to the only gate in the wall. It looked like almost every member of the village could be found in the crowd before him and the few screams from outside the walls proved this to be the case. From what he could tell, less than a dozen had escaped the village before he had risen.

The demon took a few steps toward the crowd before a rustling noise to his left caught his attention. A young man was trying to rush for the gate by following the wall. Clawed hands took hold of the large scythe and tossed it into the wall, just in front of the one trying to escape. With the teen startled and fallen to his back, the obsidian armored destroyer made his way to the wall and returned his weapon to its resting place. His fiery eyes burned into the attempted escapist as he clutched his victim by the throat, raised him up to eye level, and resumed his path to the other villagers.

With claws pressing into his neck and suspending him in air, the young man managed to sputter the words, "W-what are you?" Before answering, the red-skinned demon tossed him in the direction of the crowd. He flew through the air and landed several feet from the crowd before rolling the rest of the way.

The demon widened his stance and extended his arms, facing his palms toward the houses on either side. Runes appeared and began to glow all over the arms as a fiery energy formed in each palm. With a deep, dark, ethereal voice he answered the question posed. "I am the demon warrior, Razath, and all here shall suffer for my long imprisonment!" As he finished this declaration, the energy shot from his hands, destroying everything up to the walls on either side and creating his own impenetrable wall of flame, ensuring that his victims would not escape. The only thing that came from this voice after that were wild cackles as he proceeded to slaughter the villagers….

It was 3 days before his bloodlust and thirst for destruction were satiated.

Standing in the ashes of the once peaceful village, Razath relished in the destruction he had caused, but soon turned his attention to the matter at hand. Using whatever powers he could, he began the process of unearthing the seal. A week had passed before he had finally revealed the great work of magic that had saved this realm. It had been hiding almost 30 feet beneath several of the houses. The crystal seemed to expand endlessly into the darkness of the earth and the only flaw in it to be found was the broken edge he had escaped from.

Razath gazed deep into the demon pit below and considered his options. Since those who accompanied him had made no progress, and based on his own experience within the seal, it would seem that they were helpless. Since the seal had not been destroyed from the underworld up, it would seem that the seal could only be destroyed from this side. Even with full use of his power, it would still take several centuries to break out a single ally, and he had run out of patience in his own escape. If he wanted to reopen this portal to the nether realm, he would need a great source of evil to augment his power.

Determined to at least see the extent of what he could do to help his realm, Razath made his way out of the hole and climbed beyond the ashen remains of the village, up to the mountain's peak. Once there, he scanned the lands around him before closing his eyes and sniffing the air for an evil that might aid him. He quickly caught the scent of something familiar. Since its power had been weakened severely and the item itself had been broken and scattered across the lands, it wasn't instantly recognizable… but he soon knew what it was. It was an embodiment of evil itself, spawned from the creation of the netherrealm and much older than Razath, himself. It was known by many names, but the legend of its power was a certainty. Collecting and reforming it would take time to do discreetly, but obtaining such a powerful force of evil would be worth it.

And so Razath set forth on his quest for the "demon blade"… Soul Edge.