We reached the Marketplace after ten minutes or so, and were met with blazing stalls and dead bodies everywhere. Many of the bodies were clearly just merchants and civilians, and I found it bitterly ironic that they’d been targeted by the people claiming to be championing their cause and wanting to set the city straight. Their attackers were clearly nothing more than bloodthirsty psychopaths.[1]
Further towards the Slum, I spotted Azure footmen battling it out with Vermilion troops. I was about to intervene when the bwooooaaaaa of a horn sounded above the fighting, and suddenly everybody froze. Even clearly-personal vendettas were put aside as the two factions disengaged from each other and started preparing for an all-together different fight.
“What’s happening?” I asked the Samurai.
“The White Wolves are coming. Our footmen will hold them off, but we cannot stop!” I found this response to be slightly confusing considering his request for me to help any of his allies we came across, but I let it slide.
As we passed through the ranks of Azure footmen lining up on the opposite side of the street from the Vermilion forces, I saw that some of the Red leaders were likewise retreating, although a single Samurai remained, proudly facing what, judging by the footmen’s faces and postures, was certain death. I didn’t see any Blue Samurai besides my companion though. The Vermilion strike had likely taken out the Azure leaders first, thereby crippling their command structure.
“You hate the White clan enough to put aside your differences, even though the Red clan attacked you first?”
I expected a long, convoluted explanation in response, but the Samurai simply answered, “Yes.”
We hurried down the street leading away from the market and I heard yelling in the distance, coming from the Red Samurai. “Brace!” he shouted, and even the Azure footmen, who’d been fighting them no less than a minute prior, followed his command.
The horn sounded again, much closer this time, and I turned around just in time to see a shower of arrows rain from the sky, followed by the charge of a brutally-efficient company of helmless warriors in white-and-grey armour lined with fur around the neck. Unlike the Azure and Vermillion clans, the White Wolves fought using metal-reinforced wooden shields, similar to the Japanese warriors of earlier periods, but strange considering the period this World was imitating. Why I somehow had this knowledge about shields of all things, I couldn’t fathom, but I also didn’t have the time to properly perform a self-analysis at the given moment, as I was in fact running as fast as my legs would carry me, terrified out of my mind by the sight of these ‘Wolves’, even more so considering the speed by which they cut through the footmen.
I found it disturbing to think that the word ‘peacekeepers’ had been used by Genzō to refer to the white warriors, who, in that moment, seemed so extremely adept at killing… but then again, I supposed that another word for peace could be tyranny, and a tyranny needed an iron fist to maintain its rule…
By the time we reached the Slum, the three of us were all thoroughly exhausted, but we’d escaped the Wolves for now.
“We can rest easy for a bit,” the Samurai said, after we’d stopped under the shelter of one of the few safely-constructed buildings in the area.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. This is Vermilion territory after all,” I replied, recalling the war table I’d seen in Genzō’s hideout.
Hanada the Archer and the so-far-unnamed Samurai both looked at me. Clearly, they’d had no idea. “How can you be so sure?” the Samurai questioned me, his tone of voice in no way hiding his suspicion.
“It’s a long story… which I’ll happily tell you, when we aren’t in any immediate danger.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. To be honest, it was a fair response, since I too would’ve thought such a thing was suspicious, but he then eased up a bit, “Very well, I will trust your word.”
“So, how far is it to this base of yours?”
“Our Lady holds court in her family mansion located in a small village south-east of Kakon-shi, past the forest.” I remembered one of the blue pieces on Genzō’s map, which had been the one furthest away from the city, and which the Old Man had gestured towards when talking about his original plan to assassinate the Azure and Vermilion leaders. I wondered if I should kill this Azure Lady and try to return to Genzō, so I could continue with the original plan, but first I needed to actually get close enough to do that, which meant I had to keep these guys safe.
We left our shelter a minute later, the rain still falling down across the city, though with less intensity than before. I was slightly better off than Hanada and the Samurai, since most of my clothes underneath the metal cuirass were somewhat waterproof, although my boots were pretty soaked on the inside.
While trudging through a muddy street, passing ramshackle houses that in no way offered protection against the rain for their residents, I realised that this district too was vacated of the people who’d previously crowded it. I suppose that was quite standard for Stages taking place within Safe Zones, but it was still hard not to feel uneasy about it.
“Now,” the Samurai started, “when you stand before our Lady, it is of the utmost importance that y—”
A loud, wet thud sounded without warning and the Samurai stopped dead in his tracks. Time seemed to slow as he turned back towards us, unblinking, and when he tried to tell us something, only blood gushed from his lips, and that’s when we both noticed the shaft buried in the side of his neck, the sharp tip only barely poking through his jugular on the opposite side. A disturbing gargle sounded from him and he fell to the ground in a clatter of armour.
I quickly turned to Hanada and yelled, “Get to cover!”
Before I had time to move, an arrow slammed into my armoured back, knocking me forward with quite some force, followed immediately after by one that ripped across my leg in passing, shredding my trouser-leg and drawing a thin red line across my skin.
I jumped into a corner between two makeshift buildings, next to where Hanada was hiding, and succeeded in covering almost my entire body in putrid-smelling mud. Another couple of arrows slammed into the side of the house in front of us, unable to reach within our tiny recess.
“Do you see them anywhere!?” I yelled, trying to pointlessly wipe mud from my face.
Hanada stuck his head out of the cover for an instant, another eager set of arrows sprouting from the side of the building seconds later. “One is in a hut opposite from us, and the other is at the end of the street. They have friends waiting to charge us, but they’re keeping their distance for now. It seems you have quite the reputation already, Rōnin-san.[2]”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“My name’s Aiko,” I corrected him. “Can’t you deal with them? You’re an archer, right? Pretty skilled too, from what I remember.”
“I would, but I dropped my arrows next to the body of Mori-Sama…” he replied.
“Okay, listen. I’ll get your arrows to you, and you’ll deal with archers. Do you think you can handle that?”
Hanada smiled a confident smile, although I could tell his hands were shaking. “Of course.”
“Good. Because we’re not dying here. You hear that?”
“Understood!”
“Alright, let’s show these fuckers who they’re dealing with!” I said, and leapt from the cover, landing on the ground before Mori’s body, sliding a little beyond my intended destination due to the slippery mud and my momentum, but it was okay, because I managed to look cool doing it, like a dancer skating across ice… Anyway… I followed it up with a perfectly timed Quick Draw,[3] painting a crescent in the air with my blade, severing red droplets mid-fall, as well as batting the two incoming arrows to the side. I immediately turned to the dead body behind me and, using the backside of my blade, hooked the belt-strap of Hanada’s quiver and swung it towards him. Half the arrows flew out, but he quickly caught two in his right hand, and, like a fire had been lit in his heart, he readied the first arrow, ducked out of cover for an instant and let it fly down the street, returned to his cover, readied the next, and leaned out of the cover again, waiting for the other archer inside the house to reveal himself. Seconds later, when the enemy archer had readied his own arrow, he poked his head out of cover and instantly a fletched shaft appeared in his eye-socket.
The first archer at the end of the street lay flat in the mud, with an arrow similarly planted in his eye.
This guy isn’t messing around...
The footmen nearby looked panicked for a moment, but then made up their minds and charged towards us.
“I have your back!” Hanada shouted, a ready arrow on his bow.
“Just don’t hit me by accident!” I returned and ran towards the incoming group.
The first footman before me jabbed a plain spear at my stomach, but his movements were predictable enough that I simply rolled my body to the side and opened him up with my dangerous edge, like a butcher making the first precise cut into a large piece of meat. The next fellow came at me with such speed that, when I backed away, I slipped in the mud, but managed to use my fall to hack my blade at his knee, sending him likewise to the ground. I quickly got to my feet again, a fresh layer of mud caking my armour, and in a single movement stabbed the fallen warrior in the chest, killing him. Three more came at me, but, before they could close the distance, an arrow flew through the neck of one guy, deflected, and then continued into the flank of another. The first man fell to the ground in a shower of blood from his severed throat. Caught by surprise, the third guy didn’t have time to counter my downward chop, which caught him in the neck and tore into his shoulder. I kicked him hard in the stomach, freeing my blade, and spun around, performing my Lacerate, which skilfully sliced through the second man, who was fully focused on the arrow wound in his side.
Then the last man, their leader, appeared before me, armed with a long Tachi[4] in both hands, its large scabbard mounted horizontally across his lower back. He had the trademark black armour of his clan, along with the red Higanbana insignia. His shoulders had large plates, into which one of Hanada’s arrows immediately settled itself, unable to pierce fully. The Red Samurai’s helmet came with a neck-guard and a red demonic-looking mask, as well as two antler-styled horns on top of his helm. The configuration of his armour gave only a few possible vulnerabilities I could exploit, such as the gaps of armour above his mask and in his armpit and groin, but, I immediately discovered that my sword’s ‘Rend Armour’ trait had no effect on his iron plates, as my blade only scratched its surface, after he successfully deflected my attack. Further, his large blade had a red groove running down its length on both sides. It glowed ominously, reminding me of the Red Swordsman from the Tournament Stage in the previous World. I already knew that it was bad business, so I completely altered my stance and let him do the talking… with his sword… hoping it would tire him out.
He moved fast despite his large weapon and heavy armour, but it wasn’t fast to the point that I couldn’t easily dodge his attacks. With immaculate form he moved through a variety of attacks, as though he was presenting before judges. His edge made a strange sheering hum every time it cleft the air between us. When it became evident to him that he wouldn’t ever land a blow on me he stopped and changed stance, going from holding his blade low at the beginning of every set of strikes to holding it back and above his shoulder. The glow along his weapon intensified and he exploded forward in a leap that caught me completely by surprise as he covered the two-metre distance between us in an instant, slamming me back and off my feet as his blade knocked against my chest.
I rolled head-over backwards, covering myself in mud for the third time, although at this point it was like putting icing on top of icing, so it wasn’t really like it changed anything.
I quickly got to my feet again, checked that my cuirass was fine: which it was. Then I bounded backwards as he once more leapt for me with that superhuman speed and agility, this time following it up with a forward thrust that actually pulled him forward in the mud with the weight and momentum of his blade. I dodged towards him and to the side, releasing a quick Lacerate that struck ineffectually against his plated arm, then quickly moved around his back, sending forth a minimally-charged Quick Draw aimed at the nape of his neck, but his helm blocked that too.
Suddenly, I realised something terrible. Somehow all my stamina was spent. I could only watch as the Red Samurai rotated his body and slapped his blade against my stomach, my cuirass blocking it once more, but the blow knocking all the air from my lungs and tossing me backwards. However, before he could exploit the opportunity, one of Hanada’s arrows settled itself in his eye socket, stopping him.
A few seconds later he took a step forward, as though unfazed by his mortal wound, but then another arrow slammed into his face just below the ruined eye and above the rim of the demonic mask.[5] I could still hear him breathing, although he didn’t move any further after that.
With wobbling legs, I got up from the ground and, using my sword as a cane, made my way to the immobilised Samurai. I carefully pressed my shaky blade into recess of his armpit and with painfully-slow movements forced it through the thin layer of cloth and then his flesh, pressing as hard as I could until I hit the artery in his arm and blood gushed forth. Using all my weight I pulled the blade out and tumbled down into the mud. Moments later, the petrified Samurai collapsed, the last bit of whatever-the-hell-kept-him-standing giving way.
Hanada came to my side and helped me up. “Splendidly fought,” he said, praising me. I didn’t have the energy to tell him that I couldn’t have done it without him, but I was sure he knew.
Above the body of the slain Samurai floated a wisp, which, when I hobbled over to it, revealed the Samurai’s former mask:
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‘Vermilion Bird Oni Menpō’[6]
-Armour-
Armour > Metal Mask
Armour Type: Medium
“A metal mask shaped like the lower half of a Demon’s face, with a throat-guard connected to it. Protects part of the wearer’s face and allows for a helmet to be secured to it with its strap. Once worn by a Samurai of the Vermillion Bird clan.”
Equip
Discard
Weight: 0.2 kilos
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It didn’t seem to be unique, but just a bog-standard item. It also wasn’t a cosmetic item like I thought, as it was listed as a ‘Metal Mask’ and had a throat-guard attached to it, meaning it actually served a functional purpose, besides giving the Samurai a way to secure his helm strap. I didn’t really see the point in having just half a mask, so the item was worthless to me, but, as it only weighed 200 grams, I kept it nonetheless, since I might as well sell it for profit.
When I was done inspecting my meagre loot, Hanada and I made sure no more enemies lay in wait further up ahead, and together we left the Slum and the body of his former leader.
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[1] Yes, I understand this is quite hypocritical coming from me…
[2] Basically, “Miss Masterless Samurai”. Although, Rōnin literally just meant “wanderer” or “drifter”.
[3] Just like the time when Red Rian’s archers had Jakob and I cornered.
[4] A predecessor to the Katana, with a larger blade and a more pronounced curve.
[5] Impeccable grouping, if I had to say so. A real 11/10 shot right there.
[6] Menpō = “Face Guard”.