chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tremor in the Continent

The sky over Velen cracked open. Lightning, unnaturally violet, split the clouds like a surgeon's scalpel, and through the gash, a figure fell. Not gracefully, as an angel or a meteor might, but with a brute force that shook the quaking earth anew.

He landed in a marsh, the mud swallowing him up to his knees. As he pulled himself free, a sound like tearing fabric filled the air. The mud had not yielded to his strength, but rather his skin had resisted, hardened to the point of tearing through the muck as he rose. He stood tall, a silhouette against the flickering lightning, muscles shifting beneath skin as pale and rough as granite.

This was Yujiro Hanma, though he knew himself by no other name than Ogre, Demon, Strongest. He had fought his way through countless realms, each tougher than the last, seeking the thrill of a challenge that could push his limits. Now, here he stood, in a world that reeked of iron and magic, a world ripe with potential for a true battle.

"Well, well," he rumbled, his voice deep and echoing as if the earth itself spoke, "this place has a certain... bite to it."

He surveyed his surroundings, eyes like obsidian taking in the charred remains of a village. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, a familiar scent that only served to awaken his primal instincts.

"A battle has been fought here," he deduced, more to himself than to anyone else. "Perhaps there are warriors worthy of my attention in this desolate land."

A low growl escaped his throat, a sound that sent shivers down the spine of a nearby drowner lurking in the murky waters. The creature, usually fearless, recoiled in terror, sensing the immense power emanating from the newcomer.

Unbeknownst to Yujiro, his arrival had not gone unnoticed. In a nearby tavern, a group of grizzled mercenaries huddled around a table, their faces pale as they listened to the tales of a monstrous figure descending from the sky.

"They say he's as tall as a tree and strong enough to crush a troll's skull with his bare hands," one of the mercenaries whispered, his voice trembling.

"Nonsense," another scoffed, "just the ramblings of a frightened peasant."

But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at his gut. The storm outside had intensified, the wind howling like a banshee, and the very air crackled with an energy that felt both ancient and terrifying.

Meanwhile, in the heart of Velen, a witcher sensed a disturbance in the natural order. Geralt of Rivia, his senses sharpened by years of hunting monsters, felt the presence of something new, something powerful, and inherently dangerous.

"A new player on the Continent," he muttered, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his silver sword.

As the storm raged on, the paths of Yujiro Hanma and Geralt of Rivia were slowly converging, drawn together by a destiny neither could foresee. In the war-torn land of Velen, the stage was set for an epic clash, a battle that would determine the fate of not just two warriors, but the entire Continent itself.

For when the Strongest Creature on Earth met the Butcher of Blaviken, the world would never be the same.