Raika: The Blood Banner.

In the ashes of the last rebellion, only one warrior remained standing—on her knees.

Raika, the Blade of the Crimson Pact, was once a loyal daughter of the old shogunate. Her name was a war hymn. Her presence, a death sentence. But betrayal came not by the enemy’s blade—it came from within. Her clan, her blood, marked her for death the moment she questioned the slaughter.

Now, the forest burns red with retribution. The banners of her house, once a symbol of pride, hang soaked with the blood of both kin and betrayers.

Her armor, blackened and torn, still bears the ceremonial crest of a family that no longer breathes.

She kneels not in surrender, but in remembrance. The blade she holds whispers old names—names that deserved vengeance. And she gave it to them.

Let them say she lost.
Let them say she fell.
But never say she kneeled for mercy.

🗡️ “Let my blood be the ink. Let the fire be the paper. Let the gods read what I’ve done.”