"Genkei Senshi!"
The name rang through the quiet night, sharp as a blade cutting through the wind. Genkei stopped in his tracks, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of the white serpent at his side. He had felt it—someone had been following him ever since he left the arena. Whoever it was had masked their presence with remarkable skill, a feat few could accomplish. Perhaps a grand sage swordsman? A path dealer? Or both? His curiosity simmered as he turned to face the shadows.
The moon hung bright above, yet his pursuer remained unseen, shrouded in an invisible path. Clever. But Genkei's lips curled into a faint, unimpressed smile. He could sense it—an overwhelming surge of demon chi radiating from his stalker. That much power wasn't just a threat; it was a beacon for the things he wanted to avoid the most.
"It was hard tracking you," came a voice, smooth and mocking, followed by a dark chuckle. A figure stepped into view, his grin twisted with arrogance. "Who would have thought the grand sage swordsman of the lost village, after so many years, would forget the first rule of hiding from his enemies? Never visit a place too often. Or was it desperation—?"
Before he could finish, Genkei moved. Guided by pure instinct, he dodged the blade that came out of nowhere, its gleaming edge slicing cleanly through his hat. Strands of his dark, unkempt hair fell across his face as he narrowed his eyes at the swordsman.
"Look at that," the man sneered, recovering his stance. "I've been searching for you for four years now. All I want... is the sword."
Again, the stranger's blade flashed—a vicious, precise strike aimed to take Genkei's head. This time, the veteran moved with calm efficiency, sidestepping the attack with the ease of a master.
"Is it true what they say about you?" the man continued, his voice laced with dark glee. "That you defeated the demon king Lord Gyakutai and enslaved his soul in your blade? That you've slain more demons than anyone alive?"
Another slash came, quicker, deadlier. But Genkei anticipated it, deflecting the blow with a flick of his wrist before delivering a bone-shattering kick to his attacker's chest. The force sent the man sprawling, his chi pendant shattering into pieces,revealing his form.
"Incredible!" the man coughed, a grin still plastered across his face. His eyes glowed with an eerie green light as he rose, his laughter echoing through the empty night. "I don't care about the sword anymore. I've trained in the forbidden arts, slain demons, mastered techniques from across the lands. I want to be the one who defeats Genkei Senshi, the demon king killer!"
His grin widened as his glowing eyes darkened, the air around him thickening with ominous energy. "Unleashing first path of grief—Ikugoma, Death illusion!"
From the swordsman's hand, his blade split and multiplied into a thousand shimmering swords, each one radiating deadly energy. They hovered in the air, their edges gleaming with lethal intent. The swords circled Genkei, each one imbued with a unique and devastating technique.
Genkei stood unfazed, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his white serpent. He studied the swirling mass of blades, a faint smile playing on his lips. There was only one way to counter such an overwhelming attack—speed.
The swordsman laughed. "A thousand blades, each crafted to kill. Not even you can stop them all, Senshi!"
Genkei's response was simple: he drew the white serpent. Its blade gleamed like moonlight as he took his stance.
"Attack!" the man roared.
The thousand flaming blades shot toward Genkei in unison, a swarm of death moving faster than the eye could track. The sound of metal tearing through the air was deafening, and the world seemed to explode into sparks and chaos as the blades clashed with their target.
From the chaos, the sound of breaking steel echoed, sharp and relentless.
"What—what is he doing?!" the swordsman stammered, his confidence cracking.
Genkei's movements were a blur, his blade deflecting and shattering the onslaught with precision. Sparks danced like fireflies in the dark as the white serpent met every strike head-on, its wielder a master of prediction and timing. The air around them warped as Genkei combined *Isukomi*, the art of foresight, with *Kikorumo*, the white serpent's power to slow time.
Piece by piece, the thousand blades fell, shattered into fragments that rained down like falling stars.
"No... Impossible!" the swordsman gasped, his own blade cracking in his hand.
With one final swing, Genkei shattered the last of the illusion's blades. A sharp, resounding *crack* split the night as the swordsman's weapon broke apart in his hands, leaving him defenseless.
"The fight is over," Genkei said, sheathing the white serpent. "Go home."
But the man only laughed, his body trembling with excitement. "You think it's over? I'm just getting started..."
Then, it came.
A stench, foul and suffocating, filled the air. Genkei's expression darkened. He recognized it immediately—a demon. Not just any demon. A powerful one.
Before he could speak, the ground split apart with a deafening roar. Red lightning surged from the earth, striking between the two men with violent force. A crooked, guttural laugh echoed through the night as two burning red eyes emerged from the settling dust.
"Genkei Senshi of the lost village," the demon growled, its voice dripping with malice. "The heads will be pleased with your death at my hands. Prepare to die!"