"They are a group of former Shinobi who have been planning to kill Commander Takeda for years. And during the times when they came close, they failed. And now since he's behind Paradise, it made their job harder."
"Are you the one who gave me the map earlier?"
"Yes. After using the bird to seek warriors, I came across you. My master before was tied to the Assassins, teaching them many Battle Art techniques, until his departure until he himself was killed by a high ranking samurai of the Akatsukigahara. You were supposed to head here, but after seeing how badly you got fucked up by Hyogo the loyal soldier, Mei came and got you."
"Mei..who is she really? And why does she keep talking about rain?"
"She told you about the rain? She's comfortable with you then. Her father and mother, both killed by the rot, but she finished them off."
"She had to kill her own parents.."
"Who was consumed by it. That's why she did not kill you when she saw the rot on you. Those who are even inflicted with a small speck on it will kill easily. Even though you choked her, you didn't finish her off. Those who have been affected by the rot would've finished her off. That lets her know you can be trusted. And for a girl like Mei to trust you, it's a good thing."
"That's sad. Fucked up even.."
"And you asked what the rain meant to her?"
"Yesh.."
"It means everything to her. Anyway, if she feels comfortable, she'll tell you what it means to her."
"You don't know what it means?"
"No. I never asked. Mei is the type of girl to let others know what she wants them to know if she feels they deserve to know. Sure that sounds damn prideful, but she's not that kind of girl. Getting to know her could help you."
"Yeah..but anyway, tell me what you know."
"Ah yes. You want to know what's going on…"
"I do. The rot, and what the seven headed dragon Ryujin has to do with Takeda and everything else. I just want answers."
"Don't we all. But I will only share what I've heard from my master, and what I've overheard from Takeda himself when he had a damn episode alone."
"Okay. I'm ready."
"Ryujin, the seven-headed dragon deity, was born from the primordial chaos that existed before the world took form. Each head of Ryujin represented a fundamental aspect of the natural world, and the dragon was tasked with maintaining the balance between these elements. The seven heads were:
1: Mizuchi (Water): Controlled the oceans, rivers, and all aquatic life. Mizuchi's breath could summon torrential rains or calm stormy seas.
2. Kagutsuchi (Fire): Embodied the essence of fire and volcanoes. Kagutsuchi's roar could ignite flames that burned eternally or temper the fiercest infernos.
3. Dojin (Earth): Represented the land, mountains, and all terrestrial forms. Dojin's movements shaped the continents and valleys.
4. Fujin (Wind): Governed the winds and skies. Fujin's wings could create gentle breezes or devastating hurricanes.
5. Hikari (Light): Symbolized purity, hope, and illumination. Hikari's gaze could dispel darkness and reveal hidden truths.
6. Yami (Darkness): Embodied mystery, the unknown, and the night. Yami's shadow could cloak an area in impenetrable darkness or unveil secrets hidden in the void.
7. Shikorin (Rot): Represented decay, corruption, and the cycle of life and death. Shikorin's influence could cause rapid decay or slow, inevitable erosion.
"Ryujin's existence was pivotal in maintaining the balance of the world. Each head had to work in harmony with the others to ensure the natural order. The heads would often communicate and collaborate, their powers intertwining to create seasons, weather patterns, and ecological balance. However, this delicate equilibrium was threatened by Shikorin's growing ambition. Unlike the other heads, Shikorin had a more destructive nature. It reveled in decay and corruption, seeing these as necessary parts of the cycle of life. Over time, Shikorin's desire for dominance grew. It sought to spread its influence further, believing that through decay and rot, it could reshape the world into something new. The other heads of Ryujin noticed Shikorin's increasing corruption and attempted to curb its influence. This led to a great conflict within Ryujin, causing turmoil in the natural world. Storms raged, earthquakes shook the land, and plagues spread. Recognizing the threat Shikorin posed, the ancient monks intervened. You might be familiar that this was the origin of the Battle Arts, as Ryujin has suffered defeat from mere mortals all because of the sins of Ryujin. But that's when he rose again, revealing Ryujin's true immortality."
"So that dragon really was involved?"
"A secretive order of monks, known as the Order of Balance, was dedicated to preserving the world's harmony, formed after the first fall of Ryujin. They had long studied Ryujin and understood the delicate balance maintained by the dragon deity. When Shikorin's corruption became evident, the monks knew drastic measures were necessary. The monks devised a grand ritual to separate Shikorin from Ryujin and seal it away. This ritual required immense preparation, drawing power from the elements themselves. Using ancient spells and sacred artifacts, the monks managed to isolate Shikorin's essence and trap it in an ethereal prison. The seal would weaken over centuries, but for a time, the world was safe from Shikorin's corruption
"What else happened.."
"Centuries later, a noble samurai, now Commander, Takeda rose to prominence. Known for his strategic brilliance and unyielding loyalty, Takeda's ambition eventually led him to seek greater power. Guided by cryptic prophecies and the lure of ancient artifacts, Takeda became obsessed with the idea of harnessing Shikorin's power, believing it would grant him unmatched strength. Upon discovering Shikorin's prison, Takeda attempted to harness its power. Instead, Shikorin's essence consumed him, twisting his mind and body. He became the vessel of Shikorin, his soul bound to the entity of rot. With Shikorin's influence, Takeda's army became an unstoppable force, spreading decay wherever they went."
"So there's no source of where the rot came from?"
"There is, it came from Paradise alone, which was in the works for years."
"So he planned this…if he's a vessel of a literal deity of rot and decay…is he immortal too?"
"What I just told you, is all I was told, youngin'. But there is hundreds more pieces of lore on this that I wasn't revealed."
"Could probably be the reason why your master was killed, he knew too much."
"…Guess you're right about that."
"So the Temple of Assassins..if they know how to get in, then they might have a way to kill him then."
"It's a possibility."
"Who's your master?"
"…I'll show you."
Kanbei led Kenshiro through the darkened corridors of the large cave until they approached another room where a shadow stood in a solemn stance. The light, sparse as it was, cast an eerie silhouette against the stone wall.
'A shadow…Battle Art?'
"That," Kanbei started, "was my master, Hayato, a respected Samurai under the command of Takeda. Within those ranks, he was revered not just for his skill with the blade but for his understanding of the deeper Battle Arts, techniques bestowed upon only those who transcended ordinary martial prowess. He was killed by the samurai Asura, but had me guide him to this cave, and he died here."
Kanbei's eyes held a far-off look as he continued, "Hayato was a master of forms that could slice through the very fabric of natural laws, wielding energies unknown to most. He passed onto me teachings that are etched deep within my being, though never revealing the full depth of his art."
After a pause heavy with memories, Kanbei's gaze hardened as he turned back to Kenshiro. "If you can kill the 9-tailed Chimera Fox corrupted by the rot within five days and bring back its heart, I will allow you to enter the memories of Hayato and learn his strongest Battle Art, Battle Art: Blood Flame."
'This is insane. I'm not strong enough to kill a 9-tail Chimera Fox. And within five days? Is he serious? What's up with him?'
The 9-tailed Chimera Fox—this wasn't the first time he'd heard of such a creature. The details Kanbei provided swirled in his mind's eye, casting back to the lore he had absorbed in hushed whispers and aged scrolls from when he was younger.
'The nine-tailed fox... Yokai of legend, creatures intertwined with the spiritual fabric of old Japan. Tales spoke of their powers and the wisdom each tail supposedly represented. It's said that each tail grants the fox more knowledge, more magical prowess, and extends its life far beyond the natural.'
He remembered stories told by the village elders around nightly fires, speaking of a time when these foxes roamed widely across the lands in peace, their presence a symbol of fortune and longevity. Young children, including himself, would go to bed dreaming of spotting one, believing that sighting such a mythical creature would bring good luck.
'The story changes, though, doesn't it? It always does when the rot began to creep through the veins of the land. An entity so pure, so steeped in spiritual power, wouldn't have remained untouched. It turned the fox's fortunes, twisting it into something...horrific.'
Kenshiro could feel the weight of sorrow for the creature, once celebrated, now hunted. However, the necessity of its demise for the greater good was not lost on him—a duty much graver than simply reclaiming a land. It was about rectifying a perverse twist of fate, a confrontation where the past meets the present to determine the future.
'The Chimera Fox wasn't always malevolent. It's tragic, how the corruption shifted its essence, morphed it from guardian to menace. This creature, now roaming with its tails laced with sinister strength, is a poignant reminder: even the strongest, wisest beings can fall prey to darkness.'
These thoughts hardened his resolve, solidified his purpose. Kenshiro knew that understanding the fox's past was crucial, a way to steel himself against the sorrow of what he must do. To face such a creature and survive, he must acknowledge both its mythic essence and its current, twisted form. This balance would be crucial in the steps he'd take, each one drawing him closer to a confrontation that was as much about mercy as it was about necessity. The legacy of the fox, like that of this land, deserved a chance to be remembered not just for its end, but for the beauty and mystery it once represented.
Kanbei nodded slowly, understandingly, before explaining. "You will need cunning and strategy as much as strength. First, you must track the creature. It leaves a specific trail, a scent marked by an oil unique to its kind, tinged with rot. Use these scent baits," he handed Kenshiro a small satchel, "to guide you along its path."
"Once found, trapping it won't be straightforward. You need a series of noise-making traps. Lay them in a spiral pattern around its den; these will disorient it but be silent and swift—loud noises and hasty movements attract other corrupted beasts."
Kenshiro thought, 'Like it was for me and Hyogo..'
Kenshiro listened intently as Kanbei continued, "Facing off against it requires patience. Wait until it's disoriented, then strike. It will be vulnerable from behind just below the base of its tails. And remember, its nine tails are not just for show—they can conjure illusions to trick you, so keep your mind focused. Its fur, once a splendid golden, is now matted with streaks of black rot. Its eyes, once a normal fox's, have turned a deep, bloody red. Each of its tails ends in a puff of darkened, corrupted fur, and they move with a mind of their own. In its head, a large crown of antlers that are covered in rot."
Kanbei's tone was grave as he concluded, "Removing this beast from our path is crucial. Once it is gone, we can proceed to one of Takeda's strongholds, which is now watched over by a Samurai named Asura. This Asura... he is the one who killed Hayato. He's a legendary Samurai, corrupted by the rot, perhaps even stronger now than he was in life."
Kenshiro, his expression dubious, shook his head slightly, "A nine-tailed Chimera fox…? I can't beat that. And within five days? That's impossible. And what's up with Asura? Why do we need to head to that stronghold?"
"It will help you. Once you kill the 9-tailed fox within 5 days, I will explain why. It will pave the way to heading to the Temple of Assassins, and straight to Paradise."
"…Okay..okay. Fine."
"You need to show me you want vengeance."
"I thought I made it clear, old man."
"You're wrong. You're showing me vengeance is consuming you. True vengeance does not come from vengeance alone, but the power to overcome it."
"…."
"You can't think straight. Your head is fuzzy, your soul filled with darkness. Do you remember the first person you killed? How did it feel?"
[10 years ago]
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the training ground outside Kuroyama village—a secluded haven renowned amongst few for its peaceful ways. Young 9 year old Kenshiro, his hair shoulder-length, already bore the marks of a hard life. Scars adorned his body, a stark contrast to the innocence expected of his age. He was shirtless, adorned only by rough deer skin pants, and his feet bore the dirt of the earth he stood upon.
As he practiced his forms, movements both graceful and deadly, an uneasy rustling from the nearby bushes drew his attention. A group of bandits emerged, their features rugged and scarred from countless skirmishes. They wore mismatched armor, pieces looted from fallen enemies and travelers unfortunate enough to cross their path.
Their leader, a brutish man with a nasty sneer, gestured towards the serene village and laughed, "Heard this place is a nest of doves, boys. No fighters, just easy pickings!"
One of the bandits, spotting Kenshiro, a smirk crawling up his face, strode forward. His leather boots thudded against the soft earth as he approached the boy. "What's this? They got babies playing warrior now?" he mocked, looking down at Kenshiro's small form.
The bandit reached out to grab Kenshiro, but the boy's reaction was swift and deadly. With a practiced maneuver, Kenshiro rammed his small knife upwards, the blade slicing through the soft flesh beneath the bandit's chin with a sickening crunch. Blood spurted from the wound, painting Kenshiro's young face in crimson.
The sudden violence startled the rest of the bandits into action. "Kill the brat!" one yelled, drawing his sword.
Kenshiro's eyes glowed an ominous red, his small body poised like a coiled serpent. As the bandits charged, the tranquility of the setting sun was shattered by the sounds of combat—metal clashing, grunts of exertion, and the wet sounds of gore.
**Three minutes later...**
The ground was littered with bodies. Kenshiro stood at the pinnacle of a grotesque mountain made from the limbs and torsos of the fallen bandits. Blood, both theirs and his own, drenched him, matting his hair and dripping down his chest. His breathing was heavy, ragged with the exertion and adrenaline of the fight. A deep cut above his eye seeped blood, which trailed down his face in a grim parody of tears.
Slowly, Kenshiro turned his gaze towards the heavens, his hand reaching out as if to grasp the fading light of the day. His voice, heavy with determination and an eerie calmness beyond his years, broke through the quiet aftermath. "I can be their protector."
[Present Day]
Kenshiro folded his arms, his teeth clenching. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
Kanbei explained, "Vengeance is made for those who don't let it become them. The way you talk, the bloodlust I feel from you, it's hostile. Vengeance can be held within the righteous, those who do not show hostility, they overcame it. As the rot consumes those outside, the way vengeance is consuming you. Understand, brat?"
"….Whatever. I understand."
"Good. When you're ready to move out and begin hunting the Chimera Fox, you can get started."
Kenshiro thought, 'I should wait until the morning. Until I feel a lot better. I don't feel 100%. Until then, I'll see if I can have a conversation with the others. Maybe understand them. I won't get too close, just to keep it from being awkward, I want to know things about them, no matter how small it is. If I'm going to be fighting alongside them, I need to know them.'