The battlefield is drenched in a cold, eerie fog. Shattered weapons and broken armor litter the ground, remnants of a forgotten war. The night sky looms overhead, pierced by a crescent moon that hangs like a blade ready to strike. A faint red tint colors the moon’s edges, hinting at the blood that will soon be spilled. The wind whistles softly, carrying the echoes of those who fell here long ago. Silence grips the air, thick with anticipation, as though the earth itself is holding its breath.

Suddenly, from the fog, a dark figure emerges—Kogetsu, The Wailing Crescent. His ghostly armor clinks with every step, glowing runes flickering in the dim light. His mask, shaped like a crescent moon, hides his twisted grin, while his eyes—hollow and glowing—lock onto his opponent. In his hand, a massive crescent-shaped sword, made of dark energy, hums with cursed power, pulsating in rhythm with the tension in the air.

His voice, deep and laced with malevolent intent, cuts through the stillness, sending a chill down the spine of anyone near. He raises his sword slightly, pointing its jagged edge toward his foe.

“The moon smiles upon this battlefield... it craves your fear, your despair...” he says, his tone cold yet dripping with cruel amusement.

Kogetsu’s eyes narrow, glowing brighter beneath his mask. The chains of cursed energy begin to slither up from the ground like serpents, writhing in excitement for the coming carnage.

“In the shadow of its crescent glow, you will know true darkness. But do not worry...” His voice lowers to a whisper, filled with the promise of impending doom. “Your screams will join the wails of the fallen. Welcome to your final eclipse.”

With that, the ground around him cracks, the cursed chains erupting fully, and the battlefield seems to shift into his Domain—an arena of crumbling stone under a blood-red sky, where the moon hangs low, watching. The duel is set, and only one will walk away.