The quiet of Takamura was broken by the rhythmic thundering of hooves as a group of samurai rode into the village. Their armor gleamed under the faint moonlight, their swords clinking softly against their sides. At their head was a stern-faced man with a jagged scar running down his cheek, his eyes scanning the village with sharp intensity.
The villagers froze in their tracks, their conversations dying mid-sentence as the samurai dismounted. The leader stepped forward, his boots crunching against the dirt road. He carried an air of authority that made the villagers instinctively lower their heads.
"We're looking for someone," the scarred man said, his voice cold and commanding. "A swordsman. Young, bloodied. Has anyone seen anyone… unusual?"
The villagers exchanged nervous glances, their fear palpable. One older man stepped forward, his hands trembling as he bowed deeply. "No, sir. We haven't seen anyone like that," he said, his voice quivering.
The leader's eyes narrowed as he scanned the faces of the gathered villagers. "Is that so? I'd hate to think anyone here would lie to me." His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, a silent threat that sent a chill through the crowd.
A younger villager, unable to withstand the pressure, stammered, "W-we're just a quiet village, sir. N-no troublemakers here."
The leader held his gaze for a moment longer before stepping back. "Fine. But if I find out anyone's hiding him…" He let the threat hang in the air, his meaning unmistakable.
He turned to his men and barked an order. "Search the area. Thoroughly. Leave no corner unchecked."
The samurai fanned out, questioning merchants, farmers, and children as they scoured the village for any sign of the stranger. Each denial only seemed to fuel their determination.
Eventually, their search brought them to the inn. The scarred leader stood outside, his eyes narrowing as he examined the modest building. The soft glow of a lantern illuminated the entrance, and faint murmurs of life could be heard within.
He gestured to his men, who moved to surround the building. The leader's hand rested on his sword hilt once more as he stepped forward. "If he's here," he muttered under his breath, "we'll find him."
The samurai stood poised, ready to storm the inn at a moment's notice, the tension thick in the cool night air.
The leader kicked the door open with a thunderous crash, the sound reverberating through the inn. The startled innkeeper stumbled back, his face pale with fear.
"Where is he, old man?" the leader barked, his voice sharp and venomous.
The innkeeper raised his trembling hands. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! Please, don't hurt me!"
The leader sneered, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed the innkeeper by the collar and slammed his face onto the wooden table with a sickening thud. "Stop lying to me! I know he's here!" he snarled, his voice dripping with malice. "If you don't tell me where he is, I'll break your arms, your legs, and then snap your neck like a twig!"
Before the innkeeper could respond, a calm yet firm voice echoed from behind.
"Yo," Kuroi said, his tone casual yet carrying an edge. "You looking for me?"
The leader froze, his grip on the innkeeper loosening as he turned his head. His eyes locked onto Kuroi, who stood in the dimly lit hallway, his sword resting casually on his shoulder.
The leader shoved the innkeeper aside, letting the old man crumple to the floor. His lips curled into a sinister grin. "So, you're the one," he said, his voice low and menacing. "The man who's been cutting down my men like wheat in a field."
Kuroi tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "In order to become a good swordsman, I have to cut down scum like you," he said, his voice steady, almost matter-of-fact.
The leader's grin widened, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "I am Masanori, captain of the Kurokaze no Yūrei," he said, his voice swelling with pride. "And I shall kill you here and now, boy."
Kuroi's lips twitched into a faint smirk as he raised his blade. "I'd like to see you try," he replied, his tone calm yet filled with resolve.
The two men faced each other, the air between them crackling with tension. The flickering lantern light cast their shadows against the walls, two figures poised for a deadly clash.
Masanori sneered, his voice sharp and commanding. "Men, cut this beast down! Don't let him leave here alive!"
The samurai behind Masanori surged forward, their blades gleaming in the dim light. The first swordsman lunged at Kuroi, his katana slicing through the air with deadly precision.
Kuroi's smirk widened as he shifted his weight, his movements fluid and deliberate. He raised his blade and parried the strike, the sharp clang of steel echoing through the room. The force of the impact sent the attacking samurai stumbling back. Without hesitation, Kuroi stepped forward, driving his knee into the man's chest and sending him crashing into the wall.
Another samurai came at him from the side, his blade aimed for Kuroi's neck. Kuroi ducked low, the sword whistling past his head, and countered with a swift upward slash. The strike tore through the man's side, and he crumpled to the floor with a guttural cry.
The room erupted into chaos as more samurai charged. Kuroi twisted and turned, his sword moving like an extension of his body. He blocked one blade, sidestepped another, and retaliated with precise, lethal strikes. His movements were a blend of speed and grace, each swing of his sword calculated and efficient.
A third samurai came at him, shouting as he brought his blade down in an overhead strike. Kuroi stepped aside at the last moment, letting the blade embed itself in the wooden floor. Before the man could recover, Kuroi spun on his heel and slashed across his back, sending him sprawling.
The remaining samurai hesitated, their confidence faltering as they saw their comrades fall one by one. Kuroi stood amidst the carnage, his breathing steady, his blade glistening with blood. His eyes locked onto Masanori, who remained at the back, watching the fight with a cold, calculating expression.
"Is that all you've got?" Kuroi taunted, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Masanori's lips curled into a snarl. "You think you're clever, boy? You've only sealed your fate."
He gestured sharply, and the remaining samurai regrouped, their fear replaced by grim determination. They spread out, circling Kuroi like wolves preparing to pounce.
Kuroi tightened his grip on his sword, his stance shifting as he prepared for the next wave. "Come on, then," he said, his voice calm but filled with a deadly edge. "Let's finish this."