Two Days Later.
Daisuke had embarked on a journey to a nearby village upon receiving word of trouble from Makoto.
The village had fallen victim to terror inflicted by a foreigner on the hunt for a Samurai. Sensing an opportunity for Daisuke to regain his sense of purpose and regain activity, Makoto dispatched him to aid the villagers.
Upon his arrival, Daisuke approached the locals, seeking information about the whereabouts of the samurai they sought to protect. However, the recent trauma had left the villagers wary and reluctant to divulge any information.
"I've been sent by Makoto," Daisuke reassured them, his voice steady as he produced a folded letter bearing Makoto's seal. "Your people here sent a message to him seeking help. Here is a letter from him."
The villagers exchanged hesitant glances, their apprehension evident. After a brief moment of deliberation, they reluctantly agreed to lead Daisuke to the hidden location of the Samurai.
Navigating through the labyrinthine streets of the village, Daisuke followed his guides with a sense of urgency, mindful of the impending danger lurking in the shadows.
Finally, they arrived at a modest dwelling on the outskirts of the village, where the elusive Samurai resided. As they entered, Daisuke was met with the piercing gaze of the Samurai, his demeanor reflecting a mixture of suspicion and determination.
"I've been sent by Makoto," Daisuke repeated, his tone respectful yet firm, as he presented the letter for the Samurai's scrutiny. "Having received a letter from here requesting help, Makoto sent me. This is a letter from him."
The Samurai accepted the letter, his expression unreadable as he perused its contents. A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft rustle of paper as the Samurai absorbed the words penned by Makoto.
At last, the Samurai spoke, his voice resonating with authority. "I understand," he said, his tone conveying a sense of urgency. "Thank you for coming, Daisuke. I am in dire need of aid. It was me that sought help from Makoto. His name is well known among villages. His respect and loyalty for Samurai is often spoken of."
"What's the issue here?" Daisuke asked.
"A few days ago, a foreigner patrolled the village. When he was approached by some people, he asked for the Samurai of the village."
"Then what happened?"
"When the people asked why... he brutalised them."
"What?!"
"Exactly. Its clear that he's not here to keep the peace. He's here to assassinate me."
"How many times has he come?"
"Twice within the past six days. He said if the villagers don't give me up the next time he comes, the whole village will be up in flames."
"Do you know if he has a Tokihanatsu?"
"I'm not sure."
"Do you have one?"
"No. Not because I can't, but because I feel like a true warrior shouldn't need one."
"I respect that."
"Do you have one?"
"Yeah, but it's not mine. I got it after killing its previous owner."
"Shit... you must be a hell of a fighter?"
"Not yet."
"I apologise. I haven't introduced myself. My name is Akira."
"It's an honour, Akira."
"May I ask what your summon is?"
"It's a wolf. I mainly use him to track and search for things."
"Don't you want a Tokihanatsu of your own?"
"I didn't. But I had a change of heart and decided to go to the cave and tame one. I wasn't able to."
"Why not?"
"Something was holding me back, mentally."
"That can happen? Something like that can stop you taming a beast?"
"The Tokihanatsu Summon is tamed by those who are not only of elite physical ability, but also in spirit."
"Either way, I'm sure your family is proud that you are a Samurai."
"I don't... have any family. My mother is dead, and I never knew who my father was."
"I'm sorry... to hear that, Daisuke. Do you ever think about where you father is?"
"My mother was a whore. So, most likely, my father was a desperate man. I don't care who he is, or where he is."
"Some part of you must wonder who he is?"
There was a brief moment of silence.
"I don't mean to be rude," Daisuke began, his voice measured yet direct, "but you obviously think this foreigner is stronger than you."
Akira agreed with a solemn nod. "One of the locals told me that they saw two marks on his Katana. One was an engraving on his blade which read 'Chen'".
"That could be his name. It's not a Japanese name, that's for sure."
"The second mark was on the end of his Katana's handle. It was the mark of the Deadly Seven."
Daisuke's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? The Deadly Seven? That's impossible." Shocked, he ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing with the implications. "The Deadly Seven don't exist anymore."
"Well, it's what I was told," Akira insisted, his tone grave.
Daisuke's thoughts drifted to the past, to a time when the Deadly Seven were feared and respected throughout the land. "Makoto himself was one of the Deadly Seven many years ago," he murmured, a sense of nostalgia colouring his words.
"That's the main reason I sent for him. I was hoping he would be the one to come."
"I'm telling you for a fact, the Deadly Seven do not exist anymore," Daisuke asserted, his voice firm with conviction. "Makoto is the only remaining member. Whoever this person is, he's either pretending to be one or has recreated it. He most likely does have a Tokihanatsu Summon."
With a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation, Daisuke and Akira began to formulate a strategy. Their minds alight with determination, they knew that they would need to be cunning and resourceful to stand against a foe who, if indeed part of the Deadly Seven, would wield unformidable power.