Vyser Dragoon: Ya know, I've always wanted a fiction for these two games, but I never really could come up with an idea…that was before I was struck with an idea! How about a combination?

But before I get on with the story, I don't own Disgaea or…well, the title itself should speak for itself.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The world was born of darkness.

Unending darkness, a crucible of chaos.

But, eventually light was born from deep within the darkness…splitting our very world into countless others, all ruled by an entity of order…

No one knows when it happened, but years upon years ago, a demon knight had turned against his own kind for the sake of mankind. Sealing the two worlds, the human and the demonic worlds, apart from each other, the demon knight had hoped that peace would arrive between the two.

That's how the story had gone in the ancient tomes that had long been forgotten by the generations that passed through the years. But, fate has a twisted sense of humor when it comes to those kinds of things…

Especially when the demonic world was split from the human world…

Fate is more like a river, ever flowing and never stopping…and always branching off in countless directions to flow to different ends.

And sometimes, those rivers of fate sometimes cross, combining into another destiny that could never be expected…

…this is one of those times…

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

D M C

A Disgaea / ?? Fiction

By

Vyser Dragoon

0-0-0-0-0-0

Prolonging Night

Following a Legend

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Time: XX : XX

Location: The Netherworld,

Overlord's Castle

The Netherworld…

A world where demons roam the land and the sky trapped in perpetual darkness, constantly fighting one another for their own selfish goals…however; there was one entity that presided over all in the nether world.

The Overlord…

The king of all demons in the Netherworld, a being of pure power that his word the very law that governed this chaotic world. Seated within the confines of the tall, jagged, black castle that seated on a plateau surrounded by a sea of unending flames, the Demon Overload watched over the land…his sharp eyes never blinking on the eternal war that engulfed his world, only intervening should the need ever arise (or if he became entangled in the conflict that didn't concern him)

Surely, whoever this Demon Overlord was, he was a benevolent leader, but still strong enough to have his vassals follow him respectably…

"BWA HA HA HA HA!"

…or perhaps not.

Prior to the current owner of the Overlord's throne, was King Krichevskoy, a real benevolent leader of the demon world. When he was in rule, King Krichevskoy managed to tame the savage nature of demons and peace managed to roam through out the Netherworld…

…this was of course before his tragic death. Two years had passed when a new, official Overlord had been proclaimed, and ironically, it was the late King Krichevskoy's own son, the very person who sat in the throne to this very day…

Overlord Laharl.

"That's the Great Overlord Laharl to you!"

Uh…right, 'ahem', the Great Overlord Laharl.

"That's better!"

Through his misadventures, trials and backstabs, the Great Overlord Laharl had acquired the most sought out title in the entire Netherworld. So, being an Overlord, what was his current order of business?

"What kind of crap is this!?"

"…I told you before; I'm a samurai, not a chef."

Apparently it was lunch in the Overlord's Castle, more specifically the dinning hall that could easily be mistaken for a church hall with the many stained glass windows that depicted hundreds of demonic overlords of previous generations. At the end of the mile long table sat the Overlord himself, tossing meager meal that was brought in front of him. "You're my vassal, and you'll do as you're ordered to do!"

That temper belonged to the Overlord Laharl…beg pardon, the 'Great' Overlord Laharl, child-like in appearance with his small skinny body, one look would cast looks of confusion and wonder if the information they received about the Overlord wasn't just fake. As stated previously, he was childlike in appearance with his body, his wild helmet-like, blue hair (save for the two antennae strands that protruded from the top) covered his forehead but pulled out of the way of his demonic pointed ears and daunting sharp eyes that glared at the food brought in front of him.

His small body was only draped by three articles of clothing, consisting of a large scarf that was easily twice the size (if not more) of his small body, a pair of red shorts with a black belt tied around his waist and fancy red shoes with golden trim on them.

Despite his appearance, it was well known in the Netherworld that this young child was in reality the Great Overlord Laharl and that his strength would not be easily matched…but that still didn't stop heroes from other worlds or parts of this very Netherworld. It was child's play for the most recent Overlord to defeat those so-called heroes…

…and every time he did, the Great Overlord Laharl would often get more vassals added to his ever growing collection of servants. Just like the young Samurai demon that stood to the side of the Overlord. "If you told turtle to fly, do think it would be able to do so?"

"What's this lip coming from a mere vassal?" Laharl growled, his eyes narrowing down upon his newest vassal.

Musashi was this young samurai's name, his long black hair tied back in a knot like others, and his muscular tanned body was covered with the traditional loose armored garb that a demon samurai would wear, save for the fact that it was a dark purple. One could hardly believe that a week ago, this young, prideful, demon samurai was the best swordsman in his village, cutting down almost every entity that dared to destroy this village.

Two weeks ago, Musashi had spied an ad that had floated all across the Netherworlds, one that promoted challenges to an evil Overlord of the Netherworld…plus, if one paid a certain amount of Hell, there was promise of a Plenair plush doll. Although he didn't need the plush doll, the prospect of defeating a demon overlord tickled Musashi's interest.

With hopes and dreams of fame, Musashi set out and within a week's time he had reached the Overlord's Castle, sword in hand and pride in his soul…

…unfortunately, his pride was easily crushed along with his precious katana under the foot of the Great Overlord Laharl. For the past week, Musashi was sentenced to be the Great Overlord's personal chef…there was just one problem…

"WHERE'S THE MEAT!?" Laharl roared, his eyes narrowed as he pushed several of the many dishes of food onto the ground.

"Master Laharl," Musashi grinded through his teeth. "I'm a vegetarian, I don't know how to cook meat dishes…"

"If I wanted fried rice with steamed celery, I'd asked for it," Laharl growled holding up one of the many plates of fried rice up. "But …I didn't, and I get crap for dinner!"

Musashi rolled his eyes, wishing that his katana wasn't sold off just the other day, "Would you rather eat that Fallen Angel's food?"

That comment seemed to have left the Great Overlord Laharl speechless…for a few seconds until he slammed the plate of fried rice right into Musashi's face, sending him to the ground with a loud thud. "HA! Too bad your fighting skills can't match up to your tongue, then you might've stood a chance stood a chance against me…"

Throwing the plate from off his face Musashi glared rusty daggers at the Overlord, however that just made Laharl laugh. "…or not! Now get out of my sight, I'm going have to order the Prinnies to get me some Taco Hell."

Without another word, Musashi walked away from the table, wiping the remains of the fried rice off his shoulders. '…this cannot last…'

"And get Yurii in here to clean…" Laharl chuckled sitting back in the large throne. "She and the Prinnies need to take care of this mess you made."

Even though his words didn't leave his lips, Musashi clamped his fist tightly around the doors handle as he was about to leave, slamming the door behind him loudly. Sure of himself that he was out of ear shot of the Great Overlord, Musashi slammed his fist into one of the nearby walls, cursing words that were short of gibberish and unable to make out.

After a few more punches to the wall, Musashi finally calmed down with his fist resting on the cracked and bloody wall. "…damn over egotistical…"

"Tsk, tsk, Overlord got to you again, eh, newbie?"

That snide voice, Musashi knew exactly who that belonged to…to his right was none other than a Red Skull mage, dressed in a baggy red hoodie that had a skull-design on the hood while his robes hung off his skinny body. "And if he did? What does it matter to you Renka?"

The young demonic mage lifted head up, revealing his boyish face covered with a pair of coke-bottle glasses, lined by the gray hair that contrasted his face by showing his true age as much older. "Tsk, tsk, it's never a good idea to enrage the boss around here…but you know that firsthand from last week now shouldn't you?"

"This coming from the Royal Toilet Scrubber," Musashi commented smirking wildly. "I suppose though I should consider myself lucky to be a chef than having your job, right Four-Eyes?"

"Hardy, har, har," Renka scoffed crossing his arms to reach into his large sleeves. "I'll have you know that I was the Overlord's Scripture Consultant…"

"The key word in that sentence, 'was'," Musashi replied shaking his slightly bloody hand before he turned around to get back to the kitchen. "Just like this conversation was intriguing…but now if you excuse me, I've got a bandage around my hand and get back to my demeaning work."

"Whoever said this conversation stopped being intriguing?" Renka chuckled running in front of Musashi, his arms still crossed in his sleeves.

"What in the world are you babbling about?" Musashi sighed rolling his eyes.

"It's a common fact that many of the vassals hate the Overlord," Renka stated producing a small black book from his sleeves, spinning atop his bare fingers. "But, some have even created such a…oh, what's a good word to put it…ah, I know, some have even created a 'club' of sorts for that very purpose…"

"And I should care because?" Musashi asked, ignoring the stinging pain that rung through his hand. It was a good thing that demons were more resistant to pain than humans could ever be, otherwise he'd probably flinch a few times.

"…well, said club actually is interested in your skills, Musashi," Renka stated snapping his fingers around the book, fanning the pages out before he held the book in front of him. "For one simple…yet, challenging mission."

"…and what might this mission be?" Musashi questioned, keeping his eyes on the book…seeing that it was rather old and beginning to fall apart.

"Well, I can't divulge that answer," Renka replied flipping the pages in the book. "Not until we have your cooperation that is…"

"I'd rather know what I'm getting into," Musashi scoffed pushing Renka to the side into the wall to get past the annoying demonic mage. "Before I get myself into something that would get me killed."

"…can you honestly say that you enjoy being a vassal?"

Renka's words echoed through Musashi's mind, causing the forced chef to stop dead in his tracks. When Musashi didn't say anything, Renka slid in front of the former samurai, "Heh, now that I've got your attention…let me ask you something…"

"Have you ever heard of the Legendary Dark Knight…"

"…Sparda?"

0-0-0-0-0-0

Vyser D: Just the prologue, but I hope that this will actually get somewhere, please review if you want to see what happens next!