Three days after the harrowing battle, the samurai army finally reached Lyon Shore, greeted by an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air. The usual hum of oil machinery was conspicuously absent, replaced by an ominous stillness that sent shivers down their spines.

Sensing something amiss, the master turned to Chichi with a grave expression. "Go investigate," he ordered, his voice tinged with concern. "Find out what's happening with the oil production. It's been far too quiet for comfort."

"I'm on it," Chichi replied, her determination evident as she swiftly departed for Lyon Shore.

As she approached Misuki's palace, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over her like a suffocating blanket. The once bustling beach now seemed desolate and foreboding, a stark contrast to its former lively demeanor.

Misuki's palace, a decrepit office building, stood as a grim reminder of his tyrannical rule. Surrounded by common walls, it exuded an aura of oppression and fear. Chains adorned the walls, serving as a chilling testament to the atrocities committed within its confines.

Inside, injustices ran rampant. Misuki ruled with an iron fist, his cruelty knowing no bounds. He indulged in every whim and desire, taking multiple wives and condemning any who dared to defy him to a merciless fate. His guards, loyal to a fault, enforced his will without question, turning a blind eye to the suffering they inflicted.

Misuki's reign of terror had plunged the country into darkness, leaving its inhabitants trapped in a never-ending nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

On this fateful day, Misuki sat in his office, the acrid scent of cigar smoke swirling around him as he pondered the impending confrontation with the samurais. Beside him, Zizu listened intently, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the room as Misuki spoke.

"You know, Zizu," Misuki began, his voice tinged with an unusual sense of vitality. "I feel a stirring within me, a rekindling of the fire that once burned fiercely in my youth. This war with the samurais has awakened something within me, a hunger for challenge and adventure."

Zizu nodded, understanding the gravity of the moment.

"Indeed, Your Highness. This conflict may be just what you needed to solidify your reign and eradicate any lingering threats to your power."

As Misuki exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze turned inward, reflecting on the trials and tribulations he had faced throughout his rule. "The samurais have been a thorn in my side for far too long," he mused. "But their days of defiance are numbered. No longer will they lurk in the shadows, elusive and untouchable."

"And what of your plans after victory, Your Highness?" Zizu inquired, his tone carefully neutral.

Misuki's lips curled into a sinister smile as he contemplated the future. "I have no grand schemes, Zizu. I simply intend to rule until my last breath," he declared, his eyes gleaming with a dark intensity.

"And if Satan himself can offer me the gift of immortality in exchange for the souls of my slaves, then so be it."

Zizu's expression remained impassive, though inwardly he recoiled at the mention of such dark dealings. "Immortality," he echoed, the word heavy with implications.

Misuki's nod was resolute. "Yes, immortality," he affirmed, his ambitions laid bare for all to see.

“I’m sure he can do something about it, but he’ll ask for a very expensive price,” Zizu said pretending to be care about Misuki’s interests.

“No price is too high for living forever. We’ll get to that after killing these idiots for once. Are they outside already?”

"Looks like they're finally here," Zizu remarked, peering through a pair of binoculars at the approaching figures.

"Excellent. It's time to settle this once and for all," Misuki declared, his voice tinged with anticipation. "I’ll send our forces out. Let's see who truly desires victory."

***

Kasaki's grip tightened on Kishira's hand as he whispered, "Stay strong," planting a reassuring kiss on her cheek. The beach was bathed in the golden hues of dawn, casting long shadows across the sand. Suddenly, the tense silence was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. Two figures were approaching. “Do not attack!” ordered the master as soon as he saw the two figures. It was a masked guard and what looked like a civil.

With a sense of foreboding, Kasaki and the others tensed, bracing themselves for whatever was about to unfold. As the figure drew closer, the sunlight briefly illuminated a lone guard leading a struggling captive. The master's command to hold the attack hung in the air, but Kasaki's instincts screamed danger.

Releasing Kishira's hand, Kasaki's fingers hovered anxiously over the hilt of his sword, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before him. His pulse quickened, a whirlwind of doubts and fears racing through his mind. Was the captive truly just a hostage, or was there something more nefarious at play? The unorthodox tactics only deepened the mystery, leaving Kasaki torn between following orders and trusting his instincts.

The air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the urgency of the moment. Every fiber of Kasaki's being screamed for action, yet he hesitated, grappling with the weight of his decisions.

Suddenly, Chichi's frantic cries pierced the silence, sending a jolt of alarm through the group. "Master, they're killing them!" Chichi's words hung heavy in the air.

“Who?”

“The hostages. They said they’ll kill them all if you don’t surrender.”

As the truth dawned on Kasaki, a wave of dread washed over him, twisting his insides into knots. The approaching guard drew nearer, the features of the captive slowly coming into focus while the guard's own face remained concealed behind his black mask. Kasaki's worst fears were realized in an instant—it was his own father held captive, a pawn in Misuki's deadly game.

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"They want you to surrender!" Chichi's voice echoed with urgency, his frantic words slicing through the tense air. "I heard them talking before coming out. They're coming for you, Kasaki. They want to force your hand without a fight!"

Without hesitation, Kasaki drew his sword and surged forward, his determination unyielding. Mikamoto and the master lunged to restrain him, but it was too late—the young warrior was already charging ahead. Inches away from reaching the guard holding his father, a relentless barrage of arrows descended from the sky, threatening to halt his advance. Kasaki reacted swiftly, wielding his sword to conjure a whirlwind of jutsu that deflected most of the deadly projectiles. Despite his efforts, a few arrows found their mark, piercing his flesh with searing pain. Ignoring the injuries, he tore the arrows free and pressed on. As the guard tightened his grip on Kiyoro and removed his black mask, Kasaki's heart clenched with dread.

"You, little kid. Who do you think you are? I'm your king," Misuki's voice dripped with disdain as he addressed Kasaki.

The master's eyes widened in recognition and disbelief at the sight of Misuki after so many years.

"Misuki!" he roared, his voice reverberating with fury as he charged forward.

"Let my father go," Kasaki demanded, his tone unwavering despite the danger.

"I will, if you surrender," Misuki countered, his tone laced with malice.

More guards emerged, forming a protective barrier around Misuki, wary of Kasaki's formidable reputation from the previous battle.

"You know I can't surrender," Kasaki retorted, his resolve unwavering. "If I do, you'll not only kill me but also the entire samurai army. We refuse to live under your tyranny. We would rather die free than live as slaves."

"What right do you think you have to question my authority? I clawed my way to power with sweat, tears, and blood long before you were even born. I rose from nothing to the pinnacle of power. You, a mere peasant, dare to defy me? Drop your sword and order your men to do the same, or watch him perish before your eyes," Misuki declared with venomous authority.

"Release him, Misuki. Or you'll pay dearly for this," Kasaki's voice shook with rage as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Misuki? You address me as 'Misuki'?" Misuki sneered. "I am your lord, you insignificant worm! Look into my eyes, so you never forget the face of the man who slaughtered your father before you."

With those chilling words, Misuki swiftly severed Kiyoro's neck. Kasaki stood frozen in shock, tears streaming down his cheeks as his father's lifeless body crumpled to the ground. He couldn't shake the image of his father's terror-stricken eyes, haunting him even in death.

"You will pay with your life for this," Kasaki muttered through clenched teeth, his entire body trembling with suppressed fury.

"What was that? Speak up, boy!" Misuki taunted, his voice dripping with disdain.

The tension hung heavy in the air, the silence broken only by Kasaki's quiet threat. Both the samurai army and Misuki's guards stood motionless, waiting for the inevitable eruption of violence. Kishira, unable to contain her anguish, began to weep softly, her heart breaking for Kasaki's pain.

"You will pay with your life," Kasaki repeated, his voice barely audible as he remained bowed over his father's lifeless body. The others, including Chichi, the Master, and master Ohnitto, shared in Kasaki's agony, their faces twisted with frustration at their helplessness. Only Mikono remained impassive, unaffected by the unfolding tragedy.

As Kasaki took a step forward, the tension in the air grew palpable, crackling with anticipation. Misuki's guards quickly closed ranks around him, forming a protective barrier. Yet, Kasaki pressed on, undeterred by the formidable wall of opposition before him.

“Kasaki!” the master's urgent voice cut through the charged atmosphere, but Kasaki paid no heed, his focus fixed solely on Misuki.

“Should we eliminate him, your highness?” one of the guards queried, their hands poised on their weapons.

“Yes, dispose of him at once,” Misuki commanded without hesitation.

Ten determined men surged forward to confront Kasaki, their movements swift and coordinated. But Kasaki was a whirlwind of lethal precision, his sword flashing as he expertly dispatched three of his assailants in a matter of moments.

The remaining seven guards faltered, their resolve waning in the face of Kasaki's fierce onslaught. Sensing the shift in momentum, Misuki retreated, surrounded by a phalanx of armed protectors, his expression betraying a flicker of fear.

With a resolute step forward, Kasaki's voice rang out, cutting through the tense silence like a clarion call. “Choose swiftly: death, or allow me to retrieve my father's body. Make your decision now!” His words echoed with a chilling finality, sending shivers down the spines of the guards who stood in his path. They exchanged nervous glances, unsure how to respond to the young samurai's bold demand. Even Misuki, though taken aback by Kasaki's audacity, maintained a facade of steely resolve as he issued his orders.

“We grant no quarter, no time for farewells,” Misuki declared with cold determination. “Crush their resistance. Annihilate them utterly.” With a flick of his hand, Ikaru dispatched more guards to escort Misuki to safety within the confines of the building, while the clash of steel and the cries of battle erupted around them.

The air crackled with the intensity of impending conflict as the samurai army and Misuki's forces clashed in a furious melee. Each clash of swords, each battle cry, served as a grim reminder of the high stakes of their confrontation. Kasaki, his eyes blazing with righteous fury, led the charge against the overwhelming odds, his determination unyielding in the face of adversity. The outcome of the battle hung in the balance, and the fate of an entire nation teetered on the edge of a knife.