The villagers run in fear of their lives; the raiders, brutal as they are, are also expert shots. Arrows fly throughout the air, piercing mothers, fathers, and children. Smoke billows into the gray sky.
In a house, a mother holds her child close, hoping the pillagers do not find them. She holds her daughter’s mouth shut to keep her from screaming from the cries of agony outside. A shadow stops in front of her door. Seconds pass like hours as they anticipate their deaths.
Suddenly, however, the sound of clashing metal and cleaving flesh resonates from behind the door. The door flings open, and they scream, but they realize the intruder is not one of their masked assailants. It is a young man, two bloodied daggers in his hand. "Hurry! You must leave this house! The fire will spread to it!" He says urgently. The mother and daughter run out of the house and past the man, who continues to slay their malefactors and evacuate more people from their houses.
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It has been five years since Ian’s family was slaughtered. He is twenty now. For about ten months, he has been intercepting raids of the agents of the Eternal Samurai, who he now knows is named Horus. Horus’s organization of murderers has been going town to town demanding resources and coin, massacring those hamlets that are unable to pay or defend themselves. That son of a bitch.
Ian has no time to dwell on his thoughts, however; more mercenaries are running towards him and the townsfolk he just saved. With a quick flick of his wrist, he throws eight kunai, all with enough deadly precision to drop the marauders charging at him. Seeing this, the other mercenaries begin to flee, but he does the same to them. Suddenly, he hears a scream of effort behind him, and turns around just in time to plunge his dagger into the neck of the mercenary that tried to sneak attack him.
The townsfolk slowly make their way back to their now-scorched village. They all grovel at Ian’s feet, thanking him profusely over and over again. One of the men stands up in the crowd. He looks to be around 60, with tan skin, black hair, shriveled eyes, and a blue tunic. "Thank you, kind sir," he says, "for saving our village. You truly must have been sent from the goddess Rhea!"
"She truly guides me," says Ian. "Now tell me, why did the forces of the Eternal Samurai attack your village?"
Everyone looks to the man. He hesitates before saying, "I think you should come with me."
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"My name is Miguel," says the blue-shirted man, "and I am the leader of this village, which we call Yo’luhnd. We had been regularly paying our protection dues to Horus, but he discovered we had something else he wanted." Miguel leads Ian deep into the woods beyond the village, to a small shrine protected by two statues in the likeness of Rhea.
"What was it?" Asked Ian. "Was it your women? Children? Slaves? Your food, your resources?"
"No, it was something far more important than anything anyone can imagine." Miguel opens the door to the shrine. Inside the small bamboo hut sits the most incredible weapon Ian has ever seen. A spear of supernatural craftsmanship, the handle of which was purple and the top of which was jet black to such an extent that it seems to absorb all the light surrounding it.
"What is it?" Asks Ian.
"Perhaps it is better to read its history," says Miguel. He picks up a scroll placed in front of the spear’s stand and begins to read it.
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Ten thousand years ago, the founder of our village was exiled from his home kingdom for a crime he did not commit. As he wandered the wilderness, he saw high above him a tear in space open, for but a moment. An object fell out of this tear before it was quickly sealed once more. He ran to collect the item to discover a spear of extraordinary property. He resolved to build a village around the spear to protect it, sensing its importance.
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About twenty years after the village was established, an evil samurai endowed with immortality attacked his village. With no other options, the founder was backed into a corner and forced to strike the samurai with the spear. To his surprise, the samurai did not regenerate from the attack like he normally did. Sensing the danger of the spear, the samurai fled for his life. Since that day, our village has kept the spear in this secret location, waiting for a worthy warrior to wield its holy might.
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"Are you truly saying this spear can kill Horus? For good?" Asks Ian.
"So the legend goes," says Miguel. "I think it’s finally time to give it a new master. I saw you out there. Your skills and dedication are more than enough to be worthy of the blade. Tell me, why have you dedicated your life to ending the reign of Horus?"
Ian thinks back to the day everything was taken from him. "So nobody ever has to go through what I went through again." Miguel smiles a pained smile, picks up the spear, and shoves it into Ian’s hands.
"Promise me you will not ever use this spear for evil!" Miguel says firmly.
"I promise on the graves of my parents," Ian says solemnly.
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As Ian makes his way back to the charred remains of the village, he sees that the villagers have managed to capture one of the mercenaries, who is still somehow alive. The man is wearing red studded plate armor and a cloth mask with an eye painted on it, similar to Horus’s mask. Ian rips it off to reveal a hideous face. The man under the mask has a crooked nose and a toothless grin.
His smile pisses Ian off, so he punches the man in the face hard. The villagers stand watching around them. "You’re gonna tell me about your boss or I’m gonna rip each and every ugly tooth out of your mouth," says Ian. The man’s grin quickly fades.
"Horus paid me in advance," says the ugly murderer. "You ain’t getting a single word out of me. I know you won’t kill me. You hero folk are too self righteous. Ha!" Ian narrows his eyes in anger.
"You’re right, I won’t kill you. It’s not in my nature. But I can’t promise the townsfolk you raped and murdered won’t do the same if I leave you with them." Ian begins to walk away as the murmur of the crowd amplifies.
"Wait! Wait, okay, I’ll tell you everything I know," he yells. "I never actually met Horus. He talks to us cronies through his lieutenants. Too busy stuffing his mug with food and women."
"And where is this Lieutenant?" Asks Ian sternly.
"I don’t know where he is. I know where he’s going, though. Travel to the lowest point in the Great Valley. There’s a secret entrance to our underground encampment. Knock twice slowly, followed by three fast knocks, and they’ll let you in." That was very specific. I don’t think he’s lying.
"Take him back to the Elee Capital," says Ian to the townsfolk. "They’ve got plenty of empty prison cells there."
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Imonthep walks through the halls of the keep, his nervousness peaking. Every time the Samurai requests his presence, she is fearful for her life. What would he say this time? Would he toy with her? Would he cut off a finger? She gulps hard and musters the courage to enter the dimly-lit room.
"Master," she says timidly, "I have sent out the raid party to retrieve the divine spear. The townsfolk will hand it over or they will die. They should return within the fortnight."
Slowly, menacingly, the figure of Horus, slightly obscured by darkness, emerges into view. "Why have you not gone yourself to ensure that the spear is returned to me?" He asks. She breaks out in a sweat.
"Well, sir, you told the lieutenants not to put themselves in danger—"
"Are you fucking stupid? Do you not realize the importance of this? If someone escapes with the spear, I could be…"
Imonthep, against her best judgement, speaks again. "We’ve sent extra units this time. There’s no way that boy will interfere with so many of them."
Horus slowly looks up at her. "Did you just say… ‘boy’? You couldn’t possibly mean…" He pauses. "Ha! He’s back! I thought he would have killed himself by now. I am disappointed you didn’t tell me about him sooner, but that is of no importance now. Do you still have the prototype weapon I gave you?" Queries Horus. Imonthep nods, and holds up the odd boomerang-shaped weapon gilded with metal contraptions.
"Good. I have finished creating the explosive reagent for it. Take it." Horus holds his empty palm out, and out of it spontaneously appears a large vial of a black powder. "With this, even the boy’s expert combat skill are of no importance…"