16,329 matches and every single one of them ended in an astounding defeat.
This was the reality of Shin Buki, one of the last remaining Samurai in the Thucia Kingdom. Shin Was one of two total samurai in the world, and it was for one reason. Cultivators.
The number of lost matches had suddenly risen to 16,330
“Ah, work on your battle sense Shin” Jun Nagai spoke, a deep understanding behind his words.
“Shall I ever win against you, Master?” Shin said, a slight chuckle resounding.
The open-roomed dojo had clean wooden strip-like floorboards and translucent thick white material resembling paper as window structures.
Despite these two being the only two inhabitants, the place was well taken care of.
Dropping his wooden Katana, Shin plopped down.
“It’s quiet,” Shin began.
“Don’t hate them, they only yearn for quick power,” Master responded.
“Sometimes I wonder,”
“About what?”
“What if cultivation truly is the supreme method?”
“You doubt this old man too?”
Shin paused for a second
“Never” Shin proclaimed. He reached out and gripped the handle tightly.
The neighboring country West of the Thucia Kingdom was a mixture of some parts communism & mostly dictatorship.
So long ago, when the Kingdom Of Thucia was still a small gathering of settlements, the neighboring country coined The Salvation Provinces entered a long laborious war over the borders between the two.
The Thucians had already claimed the farm fields, which was an issue for The Salvation Provinces because the border currently gave all farm-able land to the Thucians.
Around 15-25% of The Salvation Provinces’ total land was fit for growing crops while the remaining would be like a large boulder, plausible to move but unnecessarily difficult without technology.
Thus began a multiple century-long war, with no victor and a stalemate for decided borders. And while eventually a treaty was signed, the blood had been shed and deep-rooted resentment would forever cripple peaceful exchanges.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
In an underground base set within The Salvation Provinces.
Deep within a stone-bricked labyrinth, behind a heavy wooden door, a gathering occurred between two parties.
A shifty-looking character with a hunched back rubbed his hands together in expectation while he sat across from an upright-appearing gentleman.
This gentleman wore a gray coat with an identifying black band on its arm,
Invoking a feeling of systematic intelligence. Dirty blonde hair dreadfully hung around his shoulders.
“The operation is a success, Sir Elite,” The Hunchbacked man said.
“Are the people buying the Extremist excuse?” The Elite responded.
“Yes, and even better they don’t in the slightest suspect the Elites or their Houses.” The hunchback replied.
“The bugs, how much of the peasant’s fields have been claimed?”
“Currently, around 35%, but due to unforeseen mutations they may be able to claim into the holy land–”
“—What” he cut off.
The hunchback slinked backward slightly.
“Well, we asked the researchers for an aggressive crop-destroying super weapon, and they delivered, it’s just stronger than we initially intended”
“And did you idiots not think to take precautions to ensure we wouldn’t shoot ourselves in the foot?” The Elite’s lip twitched slightly, and when the hunchback noticed this, he chuckled nervously.
“Well as soon as we noticed the aggressive mutations, the research & development team began working on a fix”
“And how long until it’s completed?”
“W-we don’t know”
Shin Buki, one of the last two Samurai, fell into a daily routine.
Eight Hours of sleep, Two Meals a day, and a thousand practice swings of the Katana. Afterward, a sparring match followed by hard labor in the fields.
Jun Nagai, Shin’s Master, had tempered this routine into all of his students’ lives. Only now, Shin remained.
Inside the Dojo’s training area.
“Yes! Allow your blade to dance freely, remove the unnecessary movements” Nagai Instructed. He sliced forward.
Shin caught and countered, shifting his weight backward. “Dance freely? Master, you’ve gone crazy!” Shin replied, a smile on his face.
He stabbed forward and connected with air. Nagai had already moved backward.
“No, don’t focus on where I am, but rather where I intend to be,” Nagai said snarkily.
Shin grunted lowly. He charged forward executing a perfect crescent moon slice.
But it was too late, and his master within half of a second appeared at his side, sword extended to his throat.
“But young one, remember this above all else. Emotions are the direct path to defeat.” he continued
“I give,” Shin spoke after a second. His sword clanged below him.
“You are making progress, Shin,” Nagai began, walking towards the shoji¹.
Shin sighed, shaking his head. ‘Will I ever beat a Sword Saint?’ he thought deeply.
Southeast of the dojo was a farm field that was shared between Jun Nagai and the local townspeople.
The golden wheat fluttered in the wind in waves, as though a comb was continuously running through it. But a person stood within it, breaking up the harmonious gold from gold.
Here, in a repeated swinging motion, Shin labored. The dull sickle sliced grass at a slow tempo.
His Master stood at a distance, watching, on the portico² of the Dojo.
“You’re not too old to be out here with me!” Shin yelled, pausing for a second.
“Aha, young chap, my back hurts from instructing you,” The Master said, holding his back. Shin scoffed.
“You barely broke a sweat,” he said, shaking his head. He continued swinging. His master retreated inside.
But then, just a few repetitions later, Shin noticed a blinking red amongst the crops, a deep and dull red like one that a dying flame would give off.
Curiously, he came in for a closer look.
Peering at the red light, which turned out to be a bug, it moved sporadically up and down the shaft of the wheat crop. Every place it had been slowly turned a deep red, eventually fading into nonexistence, as though it was burning without a flame.
Shin’s eyebrows curled.
“Hey Master, you should see this, I’ve never seen a bug like it,” He shouted slightly concerned.
“What now, boy? Just discovering Ladybugs?“ His voice was muffled through the shoji¹.
He opened the shoji¹ and stepped down from the portico.
“It’s time for my afternoon nap, so this better be serious,” Nagai said shortly after reaching Shin.
“Look,” Shin said, pointing.
The two focused on the bug, and in the short time in which they began observing it, the rate at which it moved had seemingly increased. And along with that, the degradation of the crop.
“That’s concerning,” Nagai said after a long pause of silence.
“Is that the only one?” he continued.
The two slowly began looking around, playing a game of Where’s Waldo as they intensely searched the field.
But as they continued looking, slowly they noticed more and more tiny red lights. They couldn’t be easily seen at a glance, but when searching for them, they seemingly popped up more and more in droves.
And suddenly, they noticed thousands.
¹A shoji is a door, window, or room divider used in traditional Japanese architecture
²A Porch or entrance to a building