Demon.

They think I'm a demon, just like the stories of people coming back from the dead. Haunted, possessed. Purple lightning coils around my katana as I draw it from the air. Whatever Izanami did to me, I don't have a heartbeat, but something is pulsing inside. Blood rushes through my limbs.

I back away, my bare feet lightly touching the ground as I move around the fire. The blaze flickers between me and the approaching samurai. The fire rises high, a large bonfire, as though the village is celebrating or having a town meeting. Except their bodies are in the flames. Their stench stings my nose and eyes. A breeze stirs the night, and shadows flicker all around. I hold the katana assuredly, my eyes on the large samurai, calculations running in my head.

The other two call him Captain, and they edge to the sides, trying to flank me. But the last one holds back. He's the one with very little presence, and I'm guessing he's never killed anyone. He must be too frightened to fight.

With a shout, the one to my right lunges. But it's a distraction. The other samurai dashes toward me, coming in swinging, his footsteps barely audible - so I step back quickly, giving myself enough space to parry his blade.

He seems surprised that I read through their moves. Sparks blossom from the impact, my katana against his, and I can feel that he's weak. I shove him back as the other one attacks, and I'm glad I decided to put my points into Agility. The katana almost comes alive, already adjusting to block this next strike. I duck and dash forward, right beneath his arm, elbowing him in the chest so that he loses his balance and tumbles backward into the fire.

Sweat beads down my chin. The samurai screams as he rolls over the burning bodies and onto the ground. The captain shouts and rushes toward him, and I know I have to be quicker. I dive at the burning samurai, then slash to my left, catching the other one by surprise. He'd moved to help his comrade, but my katana cuts through his armor, and I cut diagonally toward his throat. I rip him open just like the wound on Mrs. Nakashima.

+18 souls

Before he even drops, I turn around and plunge my katana into the burning samurai’s chest. He’s rolling around, trying to put out the flames, and my blade catches his navel. It plunges through. The tip strikes the ground beneath him, and he stops rolling. His eyes go wide. Blood trickles down his patchy beard and he clutches the katana feebly. More blood spills from his belly, his clothes are still on fire, and he looks more surprised than anything. I completely get it. It doesn't feel like you've been cut. When the Emperor killed me, it only felt like a punch in the stomach. A terrible cramp. But before I can twist my katana and finish the job, the captain is on me.

I can't even pull my katana out. The samurai's grip is too strong, and the captain's already swinging, so I leap to the side, running on the ash-covered ground. He swings again, fueled by rage, his eyes bulging with anger. I trip over a body, and my agility can't help me as I'm falling. His blade finds my thigh, cutting through my blood-soaked robes, splitting my skin open.

I cry out; this hurts so much more than being run through the stomach, but I manage to roll away. His katana strikes the body where I'd been, and he shouts again in frustration. I scramble backward, hurrying to my feet, breathing hard.

Blood runs down my right leg, and I wince. I can't put any weight on it. I glance at the samurai on the ground, my katana still stuck through his center. Just die already!

Grimacing, I try to concentrate, reaching for my katana. Hoping I can grab it out of the air again, but the captain is relentless. His blade whistles in front of my face and I stumble backward, falling on my ass.

"This is it for you, demon," he says, a low growl in his voice. "You will no longer plague this village."

“Aren’t you the one plaguing my village?” I grab a fistful of ash and dirt and fling it at his face.

He cries out, coughing and rubbing his eyes as I scramble away. A trail of blood runs off my leg. The pain sears through my thigh, and I collapse again. Breathing hard, desperate, I reach for my katana again, begging it to return to me.

This time, it works. Purple lightning crosses the distance to my palm, and the katana disappears from the samurai's body. My fingers close around the handle. The captain is thundering toward me, barreling down, his malicious intent like an angry wind as he roars. I put my new 1.8 points into Strength. It surges through my muscles, and I hold my breath.

It's like fishing. You have to know the perfect time to throw the net. The perfect time to reel it in. You have to trust the winds and water around you. You have to be calm. That's what father taught me.

Just as the captain reaches me, I turn and swing my katana with both arms. The sharp edge slices through his armor like a knife through rice cake. Bones snap, insides squelch, and my katana runs all the way through, bursting out the other side in a spray of blood.

The captain groans. His weapon drops with a clatter, and his upper body slides off his waist. He collapses in a mess that makes my stomach churn, and I falter back, away from the mess. Purple lightning shoots out of him and into my blade, and I shudder as the number fills my head.

+46 souls

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The voices hit me like a whirlwind. The screaming and pleading; he'd taken great pleasure in killing people. He'd enjoyed watching them bleed out. That was why he'd left his village and joined the Emperor's ranks. I can feel his sorrow, his anguish that it was over. That his life was over. He's in my head too, and I want to retch. I wish I hadn't killed him so quickly. I wish I'd made it last.

Using my katana like a walking stick, I limp over to the burning samurai. He's still breathing, still on fire, blood gushing from the wound on his belly and his mouth. I think he's pleading with me, speaking so softly that I can't understand him, but I don't care. How many people begged you for their life? How many of my friends did you cut down?

I raise my katana, ready to slash his throat, when I realize the other samurai, the one with no presence is still there. The fire flickers. The dying man groans, and I turn to face the last man standing.

He's shaking, holding his katana with both hands, pointing it right at me. "Leave them be," he says. His face glistens with sweat and a sickly sheen, and his helmet is off center. "You've dishonored them enough."

"Dishonored them?" I hiss. "Me?"

With a flick of my blade, I stop the gurgling of the samurai lying on the ground. Right through his throat. His head twitches, eyes screwed up in pain, then he lays still.

+21 souls

The other samurai wails, but it’s nothing compared to the souls of the dead.

"You burned down my village," I whisper. Screams echo all around me. The wind works through an empty village. "You cut down my friends and family." I limp over to him, dragging my injured leg. Breathing hard through my nose, my anger burning so hot, I’m surprised my robes haven’t caught fire too.

"We're protectors," he says, but his voice breaks. He looks like he might drop his katana out of fright. "We are chosen by the Emperor!"

"Fuck the Emperor," I say through clenched teeth, breaking into an awkward, pained run.

He manages to raise his katana to block mine, and the blades meet with a loud clang. But his katana flies out of his hands. It clatters to the ground near the fire, and in my rage, I almost strike again, almost slicing through his chest. At the last second, I cut a deep gash in his arm instead.

The boy stumbles backward, clutching his arm, blood spraying in every direction. He's blabbering, begging me to spare him. Bile rises to my throat. It's different with this one. He's not like the other samurai who'd murdered my people. He's just a boy begging for his life. Without that hideous aura to guide my attacks, it doesn't seem like the katana even wants to kill him.

"How old are you?" I ask, flicking the blood off my katana and taking the moment to catch my breath. The wound in my thigh throbs, but I don't let him see how hurt I am.

"Nineteen," he says, sweat gleaming on his reddened cheeks. He pulls his helmet off to reveal short-cropped dark hair. He might be struggling to breathe. He keeps staring at his arm, blood rushing down his cracked armor. He's barely a year older than me. Just a kid.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask quietly. The souls keep whispering all around me, wailing and pleading.

"You're a demon," he says, his voice frantic. "I have to fight you."

"Why?"

"To protect my land."

I almost burst out laughing. I gesture at the bodies and the fires. "How? How is this protecting your land? What did we ever do to you?"

"You were aiding the enemy," he says, lowering his gaze. "It must’ve been your fault. You twisted all their hearts away from the Emperor." Mentioning the Emperor seems to give him strength, and he raises his voice. His words drip with venom. "You are the sinner."

My arm twitches. I want to cut his head off. "Where is your Emperor?"

"I'm not telling you," he says, shaking his head. There's so much blood pouring out of his arm, I almost feel bad.

"Why not?" I take a step forward. My katana shimmers in the firelight, and a breeze ruffles my robes.

He doesn't respond.

"Are you afraid I'll kill him?" I ask. "Is your Emperor so pathetic that a little girl poses a threat?"

The boy looks up in surprise. "You're a girl?"

Oh right. My hair's gone. I look like a boy. "Yes," I tell him. "A girl just killed your samurai. A girl just cut your arm. A girl is going to slay your piece of fish-shit Emperor."

His lips curl into an ugly snarl. "Impossible. You're lying to me, demon. No girl can do this."

"Believe what you want," I tell him, raising my katana. He flinches, and that gives me huge satisfaction. "If it's impossible for a girl, then why are you so afraid to tell me where your Emperor is?"

"He's our Emperor," he says in a low voice. He trips backward over a box of fish and lands on the ground, staring at me with a strange expression. Like he can't decide whether to be angry or afraid.

"Tell me where he is. He has my father."

He shakes his head.

I take an angry step toward him and regret it right away. My knee almost gives out, pain shoots through me, and I know he notices. I inhale through my teeth. "Tell me where he's taken my father. The Fisherman. Tell me!"

The boy roars, a war cry. Like he's trying to amp himself up to come at me. Does he think I'm weaker now that he knows I'm a girl? He rushes toward me, his injured arm swinging and spraying blood. My katana swerves up, catching his collarbone and slicing neatly through. But instead of swiping at me, he grabs my injured thigh.

His fingers dig into the wound, and I strike him with my palm, right in the ear. He makes a choked cry, but I'm not done. I grab a fistful of his hair and smash his face into my knee. There's a hideous crunch, and I know I broke his nose.

But I stumble back, my leg burning with agony, shaking. My breaths come short and fast, and I try to ignore the pain, but tears come to my eyes.

He's twitching on the ground, crying and sobbing. Blood gushing from his face. Then he rolls over onto his back. There's a clink, and he draws a short sword. Does he still think he can take me in a fight?

But instead of trying to get up, he pulls on his armor and undoes his robes. And just as I realize what he's doing, he plunges the short sword into his belly.

"I will never betray the Emperor," he says, but the words turn into a scream of pain. He clenches his teeth, trying to stifle it, but every time he tugs on the blade, as it rips through his insides, he screams again and again. I can't bear to watch, but I force myself to, wondering how many boys killed themselves in the name of the Emperor.

That's what he does. This is what his story inspires. The Living God, the immortal ruler. Honor beyond sense. Duty over life. Everyone bound to the Emperor's will, worshiping him. It corrupts people. It corrupts the land. Why did this boy throw away his life? He cries for a few minutes, clinging to the last moments of his life, blood spurting out of his torn-up belly. I listen and watch until his hand drops to the ground. Until his cries fade away.

Tears of rage stream down my face, and I collapse, my forehead pressed to the ground as if I were bowing again. The ghosts of the villagers live on in my head. The ghosts of the samurai I murdered. I want to bury everyone, but there are too many, and I don't want to stay in the ruins of my home anymore. I have to go after father. I have to stop the Emperor.

"I will avenge you," I whisper to the dirt.