Parallel to the world where humans reside, birds fly, wolves howl looking up at the beauty that adorns the sky, inhabitants of the marine realm breathe underwater for most or all of their lifetime, there existed another world.
Compare to the world where humans talk, smile, fight, laugh, walk, cry, run, strive throughout their lives, there existed a world where the residents of the place wouldn't actually cry.
In parallel to the world of humans, there was a world of supernatural spirits.
Realm of Supernatural Immortals.
Among them, there was the spirit of nature inhabiting natural objects and phenomena, the spirit of water ruling over the aquatic existence, the spirit of fire directing the underworld demons, the spirit of air controlling the climate changes, the gatekeeper of Underworld and the list continues.
Out of them, there was a flamboyant spirit exhibiting the pride, not associated with his rank, well it also could have been a possibility for some of the times but predominately because of rare of his kind, bewitching mien.
His flawless countenance when he talked highly of himself, his awe-inspiring deportment when he walked, circumambient dignified aura everywhere and anywhere he sauntered.
His fearless and bold demeanour was even spellbinding for the elegant, beauteous goddesses of the realm of skies. You can say that he was just easy on every eye.
At long last, however just as importantly, his raven large feathery wings. Why jet black after having the enthralling appearance? Well, he was a grim reaper after all. Yes. A top-notch grip reaper who always thought lordly of himself, better than others because of being rare in every possible aspect.
A grim reaper who became a peerer of the realm even in the presence of goddesses. Despite being a grim reaper, his angelic, blissful voice compelling goddesses of beauty under his spell.
Speaking of his job, he used to carry a death note and write the name of the soon-to-be-dying person in it, by all means, after the authoritative command from the superior spirits. For this purpose, all he had to do was must to be present at the place where the incident would have decided to crop up before the soon-to-be-dying victims.
He even had been assigned a servant to look after his needs and carry out his necessities. The servant, Jeremy, was dedicated to the grim reaper when the king of the southern realm, his father, decided to go against the realm of skies, where goddesses and other spirits were living.
After accepting the defeat he sent his youngest son, Jeremy, to serve the realm of skies as an apology for his wrongdoing. On the raring insistence of the goddesses, he was selected to be served as a servant to the grim reaper.
The grim reaper, nevertheless, couldn't ask for more. He was doing his job for thousands of years. Despite earning a long list of antagonists over all those years, he was living an unworried, peaceful life, above all effortlessly.
At least until now.