by DB King
The creature turned and locked eyes with him, almost as though it was singling him out from everyone else.
It wasn’t like any dragon he’d ever seen before. This one appeared to be one long neck. It was shaped more like a giant snake than a mighty dragon. Its face was still familiar in that it was definitely reptilian. But its horns were more akin to antlers, and its human-like beard, which drifted like a tattered cape in the wind, seemed out of place. Twin tendrils jutted out of its snout, writhing like tiny eels. Its scales cackled with lightning and magic, arcs of electrical energies storming out and weaving amidst the darkening skies, forming spider web patterns of blue and white.
The dragon snorted, white smoke billowing out of its nostrils. A white flash forced Jin to avert his gaze and cover his eyes with his right forearm. Deafened and blinded, Jin was helpless as a powerful wave of energy surged all around him. It electrocuted his body. His muscles contracted, preventing him from moving. His mouth hung open, but no sound emerged. Jin lost sight of the world itself, his magical senses exploding as he lost control.
His head rang with colors and sensations unknown to him. In the distance, two extremely bright magical auras dwarfed all others around them, like raging bonfires amidst tiny embers. They must have been the mages. Power swirled around them, and reality itself seemed to bend to their wills. Whoever these people were, they stood far above him—for now. They were gods among men, lords of destruction and devastation. The magic they wielded was approaching the same level of power as the Archmages in his previous world.
I swear… I will kill both of you!
He wasn’t sure if he was screaming.
He couldn’t hear anything.
Every single one of his senses failed him.
Something exploded. The ground shook and Jin stumbled to his knees. A wave of invisible forces flooded outward. Darkness filled his vision as he was blown back into the tunnel.
Chapter 11
When Jin awakened, heat filled his eyes immediately, like a wave of fire blazing over his pupils. He pushed himself up and rushed out the tunnel. Outside, the whole of Castle Murasaki was burning. The dead littered the ground, burnt and smoking husks, still clutching their weapons, their eyes burnt out of their sockets and mouths spread wide open in a quiet cry. Screams echoed from the innermost walls, nearest to the manor. The sounds of battle—clashing steel and the fatal groans that followed—raged on in the distance.
The secondary wall had crumbled completely, almost broken down to its foundation. The skies had cleared, but the effect of that dreadfully powerful spell was painfully clear.
They had lost the siege. With two walls broken down, it would only be a matter of time before the enemy breached the last wall, which led directly into the manor. How many men do we still have left?
Jin winced at the slightest movement, his muscles screaming with every tiny flex. None of it mattered. His grip over Agito’s handle tightened as he leapt out of the illusory space and grabbed hold of the edge of a window just above him, before pulling himself even higher to reach the tops of the roofs. He staggered for a moment, the clay roof tiles almost giving way as he stomped on them, but Jin found his balance. Though, he’d have fallen already if he was any heavier than he was now.
With slightly blurred eyes, Jin surveyed the remains of his home. The enemy forces were swarming through the gaps and breaches, through the shattered gates. What remained of the Murasaki retainers had holed themselves into a narrow corridor in front of the manor, where the walls had not been breached. A single pathway, however, lay open, where the enemies swarmed in, but found themselves bottlenecked and flanked. It was a simple, but effective strategy to deal with much greater numbers. Sooner or later, however, the scant few Murasaki retainers would tire and waver and then it’d be—
Hamada, in full armor, a snarling demon’s visage upon his face, charged in with his tachi. Ten men followed him – ten of their greatest warriors. Jin’s father was a whirlwind of death and steel. With every stroke of his sword, ten enemies fell dead. His followers were no less skilled, killing and swatting away the enemy forces as though they were naught but children with sticks and stones. Hamada was turning the tide of the battle.
As the carnage intensified, Jin made his move.
The heir of the Murasaki Clan stayed true to the teachings of the Feather-Moon Blade, moving unseen and unheard, at one with the shadows and the darkness. He passed through the makeshift barricades and camps of the enemy. A tiny part of his mind urged him to kill each and every one of them, but the better part of him refused such an illogical idea. Even if he personally felled a hundred warriors, that alone would not turn the tide. At this point, there was nothing he could do to secure victory for Hamada or force the invaders out of their home.
Victory, right then, meant survival.
With a heavy heart and gritted teeth, Jin turned and left the enemy soldiers to their own devices.
He continued on through the shadowed rooftops, leaping and jumping over the breaches and keeping himself out of sight. Not that anyone would bother looking up, considering the battle still raged on, but he needed to be careful, regardless. Hamada, however, was creating the perfect distraction as all eyes were on him and the ten champions who followed him. Somehow, without the aid of magic or magical weapons, Hamada was pushing back the tide, gaining ground against the onslaught of the invaders. Heads rolled, limbs flew, and entrails scattered as the eleven men waded through the narrow battlefield, like angels of death.
Jin followed the tops of the shattered walls until he reached the courtyard of the manor. The battle hadn’t yet gotten to the innermost reaches of the castle, but it was only a matter of time before Hamada wavered. I have to secure the family heirloom before that happens, he resolved.
Despite nearly every fiber of his being telling him that it was a stupid thing to be prioritizing, given the situation, another part of him somehow knew, on an instinctual level, that the heirloom wasn’t just a simple wooden box that was meant to be passed down through the generations. It wasn’t just a toy. It wasn’t just a decoration, even if it would do a poor job as one. No, that thing had a purpose and he wasn’t about to let it fall into the hands of his enemies.
When Jin stepped onto the grounds, however, it was only there that he noticed the shadowy figure that climbed in through the kitchen window, wreathed in black – nearly impossible to see, and he would have entirely failed to do so if not for his training on the arts of assassination with the Feather-Moon Blade. Jin’s eyes narrowed. Shinobi.
They were sending in the shadow warriors to infiltrate his home!
The fact that Jin noticed them at all, however, meant they weren’t nearly as skilled as his master—which meant he could kill them quite easily.
The manor was still populated by servants loyal to his family. A few soldiers stood with them, but Hamada had pulled every fighting man out to the thick of the battle. The hallways were dimly lit when Jin entered. Shadows lingered everywhere – in the corners and in almost every room. He stepped quietly, but quickly, his footsteps impossible to hear. The shinobi are probably waiting for my father to tire himself out and retreat into the manor. Once that happens, killing him would be easy. With Hamada dead, my family’s retainers will lose their spirits… and our army will lose cohesion and break.
Killing the shinobi wasn’t a difficult act in itself – one stab to the back of the neck and it’d be finished. No, the difficult part was finding them without getting noticed. That was the challenging part. It was made even more challenging by the fact that he didn’t know how many shinobi there were in his manor. He only knew that they were here and they hadn’t detected his presence yet. They’re likely not going to kill the servants—there would be no point. No… Hamada is a powerful warrior. They would know that as well. Even weakened and exhausted, he’d still be capable of killing them with ease. The only way for their ambush to work is if they all attacked at once, from a single angle.
They’ll
be hiding at a single location, likely near the front entrance, where Hamada was most likely coming through once he was exhausted… which probably wouldn’t be happening for another hour, given the man’s ridiculous physical capabilities. The shinobi would also have to be at just the right distance from each other in order to maintain cohesion when they launched their ambush. Too close and they’d be spotted immediately. Too far and Hamada would have time to counter them. The only place they could attempt something like that was the living room, which Hamada would have to pass through once he entered the house.
Jin would have to find a way to draw them out first.
Crouched low, Jin snuck up toward the wall and grabbed one of the numerous weapons Hamada had hung up. Huh. I never thought these things would come in handy.
Jin grabbed a simple tanto and one shuriken, both likely dulled and withered. But neither of them were meant to be killing instruments – at least, not for his purposes.
Alright, let’s try a simple trick…
Sheathing Agito, Jin grabbed the shuriken and hurled it into the room, where it bounced against another weapon on the wall and bounded up at the ceiling. A brief gasp hit his ears immediately, so utterly quiet and faint that even Jin’s enhanced senses nearly failed to pick it up. He could have easily mistaken it for the wind, blowing in through the window. It came from the ceiling, closest to the southern wall. There’s a shinobi there. The Shuriken must have bounced toward them.
That was one down and an unknown number more to go.
Jin glanced up. The ceiling was bare – a lot of the wooden sheets and boards had been removed haphazardly to improve the outside defenses. Actually, aside from the blunt weapons on the walls, a lot of things from the interior of the manor had been removed, most especially anything made of ironwood. All that remained of the ceiling was its wooden beams. He could even see the second floor.
Jin leapt up and grabbed hold of a ledge, before pulling himself up onto one of the numerous ironwood beams that supported the second floor of the manor. His steps were light enough to not cause the wood to creak – not even the tiniest squeak had been created. At least, no sound ever reached his ears. His master, Nobito, probably would have heard him from another room, while talking to several people and drinking rice wine.
If the shinobi were anything like his master, then he never would have noticed them.
Wakizashi and dulled tanto in hand, Jin crept across the ironwood beams. He kept his eyes trailed over the shadows, watching and waiting for the tiniest of movements. One of the shinobi had given away their position, but he couldn’t discount the possibility of several others just lying in wait. After all, he’d drawn their attention now. They were likely already expecting someone or something to walk through the hallway and into the living room.
Emptiness met him. The shadows were bare and quiet, and every hiding place he could think of was empty. The shadow warriors were still definitely in the living room—he just couldn’t see them. Alright, these guys are pretty good. It’s time for plan number two.
Drawing them out through conventional means obviously wasn’t going to work. These shinobi weren’t nearly as good as his master, but they were trained killers with several years of experience. Even in his previous life, Jin had never really bothered much with the arts of assassination and subterfuge; he would be stealthy and quiet when needed, but killing someone from the shadows and striking them at their most vulnerable was an art that took many years to fully master. If the conventional means wasn’t going to work, then he would just have to rely on the more magical methods available.
Jin closed his eyes and focused inward. His magic was… strangely chaotic, but he didn’t need it to be calm for what he was about to do—if what he was about to do worked the same way in this world. He hadn’t thought to test this power yet. Magic was different in this world, but their worlds seemed to share more than he’d first assumed. He just hoped this power was one of them.
Breathing out a cold breath, Jin released a pulse of magic that bounded outward and expanded all across the manor, revealing every single life sign everywhere, from the tiniest spider to the quivering servants hiding under the bath houses. There were three shinobis in the living room and one mysterious figure standing just outside the family treasury.
He… honestly did not prefer this method. Relying on his magical powers too much would be his undoing, as it was in his previous life, but Jin’s choices were getting slimmer by the second. Forgive me, master, but I’ll have to forgo our lessons for now.
Without hesitation, Jin leapt into the living room and hurled the tanto point-first at the nearest shinobi, who was hiding just above behind the trimmed bamboo shoots. The tanto buried itself in the man’s right eye and jammed into his brain, killing him instantly. The others reacted, leaping out of their hiding places and rushing toward him with their weapons drawn. One’s coming in from the left and the other’s coming in from behind me.
Jin smirked. How delightfully predictable.
These amateurs were nothing like his master, who would have shot him with a poisoned dart the moment his feet touched the floor. These “assassins” were using actual swords, instead of attacking from a distance. If Jin had to guess, these were likely the runts of whatever shinobi clan they’d come from – the worst of the worst. It was either that or this was simply their first mission and they weren’t nearly as well trained as Jin had first thought. Strange. Those mages back there likely cost a great deal of money to hire… did they run out of cash to pay the shinobi clans? Assassins are not cheap.
It made some sense—war was costly and this was no small army.
Either way, dealing with them would be child’s play.
The one from the left’s gonna reach me first—ah yes. Jin sidestepped the shinobi’s blade and turned, watching as the assassin’s eyes widened at Jin’s superior speed. The other one arrived soon after, but his attack was halted as his ally blocked his path. Time seemed to grind down to a halt.
Jin smirked as Agito flashed through the air and pierced the man’s jaw, straight into his brain and out his scalp. The assassin’s eyes glazed over, paralyzed, before Jin pushed him forward and freed his wakizashi. The other shinobi screamed in outrage before rushing him, his movements made sloppy by emotional turmoil.
The assassin’s blade flashed. Jin sidestepped the thrust and counterattacked by slicing off the man’s sword hand at the wrist. The shinobi’s eyes widened. Before a scream of pain could emerge from his mouth, however, Jin’s blade surged through the air and sliced through the assassin’s neck, decapitating him instantly. The masked head fell with a thud, rolling on the floor and spurting blood.
The corpse stood still, headless, almost frozen in time, as Jin walked away. With a casual flick of his wrist, all the blood that’d clung onto Agito’s blade spattered into the wall.
Jin rushed down to the treasury. No guards bowed or saluted him this time. Only the darkened walls and the cold air met him as he descended the shadowy stairway.
There was someone there, likely another shinobi. Is it a rogue element, who’s trying to get a bigger piece of the reward before anyone else could? he asked himself. It didn’t make sense for a single enemy to be here, ahead of the army, when they could just wait for the castle to be taken.
Besides the gold and the jewels, the only other things of value were the living weapons that chose their wielders, and the family heirloom, which probably wasn’t valuable to anyone outside the clan itself, but Jin couldn’t make assumptions.
Whatever the case, Jin would simply cut them down as well.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Jin found a lone figure standing right in front of the treasury door, which hung open. The bowls already burned brightly from the inside, which meant the man had already been there earlier. Jin paused, his eyes narrowing. He hasn’t taken anything from the treasury…
The figure wasn’t dressed like the shinobi. For one, he wore brightly colored robes that stuck out eve
n in the shadows – bright red and pink, with swirling patterns that were common among southern nobles. A single katana hung at his hip and he carried no other weapons. The mysterious figure stood there, waiting.
“So, this is the Murasaki clan’s fabled treasury.” The man spoke out loud, slowly unsheathing his blade.
Jin wanted to rush forward and kill him with a single, decisive strike, but his instincts screamed death. So Jin stood back, eyes narrowed as he waited for the intruder to do… something.
“Even in the south,” the man continued, “your family’s exploits are legendary. There are a few of us, however, who are aware of your true origins… demon spawn.”
The man turned, grinning. Where his robes were open at the front, a Phoenix tattoo shone on his bare chest and a Turtle tattoo marked his exposed left forearm. He was young, likely much younger than Hamada, but his hair was unkempt and wild. The man’s eyes oozed bloodlust and excitement.
Their eyes met. “Ah, you must be the latest demon spawn in your family.”
His eyes fell on Jin’s chest, where his Fire Salamander tattoo resided. “And you have the ability to wield magic at such a young age. My intervention was indeed a timely one. If I had waited a few more years, you might have grown far too strong for me to kill, little demon of the Murasaki Clan.”
The man raised his katana, grinning madly. His voice was filled with venom, “I, Yamamoto Gamashiki, will end your foul bloodline.”
Jin spat on the floor and lowered himself into the Leaping-Tail Stance. If he had any chance of winning against a fellow mage, it’d be with a single attack. The man’s words barely made any sense, but he could process his ramblings later. Right now, the only thing on Jin’s mind was death. “You talk too much.”
Jin surged forward, faster than he’d ever been before with his enhanced speed and strength. Even his enemy, Yamamoto Gamishiki, was clearly surprised as he frantically raised his sword for a block. Scale-like patterns shimmered in the air as Jin’s wakizashi met the edge of the man’s katana.
