A towering figure draped in an aura of dread, Onizawa Arashi commands attention with every step. His crimson battle attire, edged with black lacquer and ceremonial embroidery, clashes fiercely with the straw hat shadowing his eyes. Beneath its brim, a cold gleam flickers — a gaze sharpened by countless battles and an unyielding will.

In his grasp rests a katana that hums with restrained lightning, the steel etched with runes said to drink the life of those it strikes. Shadows coil around his form like loyal serpents, writhing at his command, as if the very air bends to his presence.

Once a noble lord, he is whispered to have bargained his soul with ancient spirits, gaining forbidden strength at the cost of humanity. Stone pillars and crumbling steps mark his domain, a realm where even the boldest dare not linger.