There was only a single route out of the valley the village was in. On three sides there were natural stone walls that stretched up hundreds of feet around it, and on the fourth a large chasm split the earth.

  Along where the chasm met the eastern wall, there was a relatively large area where one could freely travel, the only way. It was almost entirely stone; all the dirt having been washed away long ago. Waves of water formed and ran down the slight slopes to disappear into the cracks.

  The change in terrain as Tenjo traveled along the road was slow, the dirt fading away more and more as she drew farther and farther away, until there was nothing left the but the plain stones.

  The rain pounding down was strong enough that she almost missed the man who was leaning against a rock. If he was an ordinary person, she likely would have. For him though, there was something that couldn't be ignored.

  As she approached, he stood up straight and stepped into the middle of the path, blocking the way. At his side was a rapier that he drew as he came to a stop, and then he slowly and carefully raised until it was aimed at her head.

  The second it stopped, an aura of killing intent burst out of him, the raindrops around him pausing in the air before they continued falling. The man across from her wasn't intimidating in any normal way. The aura around him wasn't any stronger than her own. He wasn't covered in blood, or dressed in the finest robes. He didn't hold is sword with such an air of expertise that she had no choice but to acknowledge overwhelming skill.

  The only thing that stood out was the aura of killing intent that radiated from him, focused directly on her.

  It made her break out in a cold sweat, her hands shaking and the hair on her arms standing up as her body realized she was afraid before she herself was aware of it. The tip of his rapier slowly rose up until it was aimed at her, and across a dozen meters she still felt as though the icy metal was pressed against her forehead, prepared to bore through her skull if she took another step forward.

  Despite this, Tenjo swallowed down the saliva that had filled her mouth, and placed her hand on the hilt of her katana, taking her stance as she prepared to fight.

  It was as though the tip of his sword shoved into her skull, right between her eyes. Even if she leaned back, even if she stepped to the side, it still remained, threating to bore through with the slightest hint of pressure from her opponent.

  The phantom sensation was so vivid she expected blood to trickle down her face any second, skin torn open by the tip of the blade. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to back away, the cool steel against her head too dangerous to ignore.

  Throughout it all, his sword remained out in front of him, not even drawn back to thrust, far out of reach. The image painted by her eyes was a clear contradiction to reality.

  Tenjo lowered her stance, bending her knees and readying her grip on her sword to draw at a moment’s notice. The tip of his sword twitched a movement of no more than a half inch, and every muscle in her body flinched, nearly striking out at empty air from his slightest indication.

  Any approach would be suicidal. To throw herself straight forward against a thrust would be to play exactly into his hands, to give over her life over to him on a platter.

  But it wouldn’t be any better if she moved to the side, or back, or stayed in the same location. Sooner or later, she would be in his range. It was an unavoidable fact that his range was greater than hers, and she would need to get within it to strike.

  That was the logical reasoning. However, there was a much simpler way of putting it than ran through her mind. Tenjo wanted to cross blades with him, to try and cut this man down. And in order to do that, she needed to get closer to him.

  So, against her natural instincts, against her fear, and against her better knowledge, she stepped forward against the blade, running headfirst into a decidedly fatal attack.

  His arm and blade both vanished, his technique enhancing a single stab that moved faster than the eye could see. In that instant, she moved her head to the side, relying solely on his prior intent to predict the attack.

  The speed was enough that it still cut a gash along her forehead, spraying free blood into the night air. In return, her own blade arced out with a silver glow, nearly matching him in speed to throw a cut that he barely managed to catch on his hilt.

  Now he was in her range. One blow after another showered down on him with the raindrops, each one aimed at a different area. With his light blade wielded in one hand, he couldn't directly intercept any of the blows.

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  Instead, he had to deflect them down to his hilt, where his sword wouldn't be knocked aside. Because of that, Tenjo had plenty of time to free her blade and strike again, aiming to overwhelm his defenses.

  Any attempt by him to create distance was stopped as she advanced along with him, keeping the space between them suited to her attacks. He was unable to counter at all, forced to play the defensive and focus entirely on preventing her from cutting him down.

  One by one, each strike came from a different angle, and each one got closer and closer to breaking through his guard. It was a war of attrition, where he only needed to make a single mistake for her to strike true and end everything.

  It was a simple matter of pressure now. Each blow was a hair less refined then the one before it, and so was each block. With that in mind, it was the simple matter of hammering at the cracks in his defense, forcing him to change to match her rhythm, always a slightly larger gap behind.

  Tenjo stepped in a half step closer, and unleashed a second flurry of blows. Another powerful downward strike and he left a gap at his off shoulder, exposed to the danger of her blade. Her blade started to rise back up to slice through the gap, poised to cleave open flesh and bone.

  But instead of attempting to defend or avoid the attack, he stepped in even closer to her and his offhand darted out, and by instinct she leapt back as a line of crimson opened up over her collarbone. In his hand, a slender dagger now held a new line of attack and defense, perfectly covering his gap in defense and also giving him a range even closer than her own.

  She had attempted to overwhelm him with her style, slowly but steadily gaining the upper hand with each blow. Then at the very end, right when she had her chance at victory, he revealed his hidden ace, changing the range back into his own at just the right time to not only cancel her attack, but turn it into his own opportunity.

  The pounding in her chest had changed, excitement welling up and mixing with the fear. As terrifying as his skill was, as close as she had come to death, Tenjo couldn't help but to let a smile cross her face as she took her stance again.

  By contrast, he wore a look of bitter annoyance, flicking the blood off his new weapon as he stared at her without blinking. The blade came back up to where it had started, and now it was on her to advance past it again, this time with her tactics already known.

  Then an idea struck her, something she never would have even thought of, much less tried if this was a sparring match in a dojo. Her hand floated down to check the knife that was always at her hip, worn on the opposite side from her scabbard.

  As she charged in, she put her whole body into an upwards swing that sent both blades above her head. Rather than try and pull back against the momentum, Tenjo let go of her sword with one hand, and reached down to grasp the hilt of her second blade.

  The man stabbed forward with his own, already out and in position. His blow would land first, with a much smaller distance to travel. He was already halfway through with the movement of the thrust by the time her grip became solid.

  But a silver glow came from her knife, and it rose with unmatched speed to slash open the front of his robe and send out a spray of blood. The droplets glistened in the moonlight as they misted into the air, and by the time she finished the motion Tenjo could already taste it in the air.

  The Crescent Moon technique didn’t have any inherent requirement that the blade being drawn was a sword, after all.

  It wasn’t deep enough, she thought as she stepped back. For the third time, she readied herself to exchange blows, only to realize something was different with her opponent.

  Instead of resuming his stance, he let both of his blades hang limp in his hands which dangled at his sides, looking as though they might fall out at any second.

    Then he changed.

His body seemed to become more solid, his muscles standing out and his veins showing under his skin, which took on a faint reddish tint. His aura around him condensed in a similar manner, the pressure he gave off intensifying.

  The stranger's killing intent became something different, a more primal bloodlust that surged from every inch of his being. When he locked eyes with her, Tenjo had barely a second to react before he arrived in front of her and struck.

  His sword pierced her right wrist, and a burning pain shot through it unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her sword clattered to the ground, out of reach, and as she tried to swing her dagger, he sent it sent it flying with a backhand that left her left hand numb.

  A slight bend of his hand sent lances of pain up her forearm, and forced Tenjo to sink to the ground. His foot sent her sword flying farther away, while his sword twisted back and forth, each movement creating new waves of agony.

  Any sense of enjoyment was now gone, the reality hitting home in a fashion that was impossible to ignore. The rain had ceased, leaving complete silence apart from the sound of her flesh being mutilated.

  Then he pulled it free, leaving a jagged cut several inches long where it had had been dragged between the bones of her lower arm. She tried to dive for the sword, and his hand came around again, this time hitting her temple with enough force to knock her off her feet and send her skidding back across the wet stones.

  Her uncut hand reached for her head, which swam and spun as the stranger walked closer. It found the hairpin, a crescent moon that matched the one in the sky tonight. She grasped it tightly, seeking any form of relief in her final moments.

  Tenjo struggled to her feet, and as she swayed and wobbled the man pressed the tip of his dagger to her chest, right above her heart. Then, as it started to drive between her ribs her arm moved on its own.

  The item clenched in her hand pulled free its spikes from where they were sheathed in her hair, and a silver crescent drove them into his neck. Then they both sank to the ground once more, and Tenjo watched the light slowly fade from the mans eyes.

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                           Chapter end

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