The vision dissolved as quickly as it had overtaken her, and Kisaki once again found herself surrounded by flames.

The world was still moving in slow motion, though, giving her an added moment to regain her bearings, but it didn’t look good. She’d witnessed the moment her mother had been gifted the blade. It was awe inspiring, both to be inside her dream and then to actually witness the essence of an elder god. Yet, she wasn’t sure how that was supposed to help her.

Had Shitoro been wrong after all? Perhaps her mother didn’t have any insight that could help her. The history of knowing how she had acquired the weapon was interesting – fascinating, even – but it would all be useless in the next few minutes if Kisaki was burned alive.

Ichitiro, for his part, seemed intent on just that. She could hear his laughter above the roar of the flames being just barely kept at bay by the Taiyosori. Should it falter, she would be instantly cooked.

But in that same instant, she also realized it would not.

It seemed insane. To think that this sword, wicked and sharp though it might be, was the same massive weapon she’d seen in the hands of the god. It was hard to believe.

Yet it was true. She felt it, knew it in her bones.

And it was then she realized that was not all she knew. What the god had shown her mother – all of those battles – somehow remained with her. It was all there in her mind. She was able to recall every detail, despite it being shown to her at the speed of thought itself. It was as if an encyclopedia of alien knowledge had been deposited inside her. She couldn’t hope to decipher it all, especially not now, but she was able to understand enough of it.

It will all depend upon the strength of your blood.

The words of the elder god rang out loudly in her mind, almost deafeningly so, and she sensed that it was no mere memory this time. Whatever had happened in her mother’s past, the god had somehow known she was there watching.

Known she would one day wield the Taiyosori.

It was almost too much for her to handle at once. Her mind felt full, almost to bursting. She needed a way to let it out, to vent before she exploded.

Kisaki screamed, a battle cry that seemed to echo around her. She focused her attention onto the sword – visions of past battles continuing to play out in her head – and then, without quite knowing why, she twisted the blade and sliced it horizontally through the air.

Almost at once, the fire from Ichitiro’s attack was snuffed out around her. She was wounded, bloodied, and covered in blisters from the flames, but she felt better almost immediately upon taking a breath and inhaling the much cooler air that followed.

“What is this?” Ichitiro asked from far above her. Amusement tinged his voice. He no doubt seemed to think that perhaps this was some sort of fluke ... one he was apparently resolved to correct.

He threw another ball of flame at her and Kisaki again used the Taiyosori to counter the spell, extinguishing it in its entirety before it could touch her.

She looked up at him and, insane as it might have been, actually smiled. “Is that the best you have, godling?”

Ichitiro bared his teeth at her. “Oh, it is not. Not at all.”

The lightning flaring around him in his miasma lashed out at her with a half dozen of its electric tendrils.

For one small moment, Kisaki felt fear, but that cool logic descended upon her once more, more powerful than ever. When she swung the sword to deflect the attacks, gone were the clumsy swings she had used earlier. Now she had a fluid grace about her, moving as if the weapon were a part of her being, an extension of her arms.

Not a single bolt touched her.

The mask of anger on Ichitiro’s face turned to one of confusion. However, it only lasted a moment. With a roar of rage, he drew power around himself, then unleashed hell upon her.

Spell upon spell. Fire, lightning, force, and much more rained down from the sky. The ground around her was pummeled into ruinous craters, but nothing harmed her. Again and again, she deflected the spells with the sword, cutting through them and dissipating their lethal energy.

Sadly, she realized it was a losing strategy. She had Ichitiro at a stalemate, but it was one that wouldn’t last. He was eternal, whereas she would eventually tire. He also had an incredible amount of power at his disposal, which only now was he truly beginning to tap. It was only a matter of time before he hit her with something that even the Taiyosori might not be able to block.

Even if that failed, he would almost certainly turn his rage against the rest of the town. Enough people had already suffered at his hands. As it was, it would probably take them years to recover from the damage, and that wasn’t even beginning to count the many shattered lives he left behind.

Ichitiro unleashed another volley of spells at her, sending them faster.

She’d succeeded in the psychological warfare she’d set out to wage against him. He was growing increasingly angry at her refusal to die, and his attacks were showing it. They were a frenzy of destructive power, but with little strategy behind it and absolutely zero restraint. He’d even dropped the protective shield of lightning around himself to concentrate entirely on offense.

If only she had a way of reaching him, of attacking back. She could...

Visions of the elder god fighting flashed through her mind again. She remembered him being swarmed by enemies, but they were nothing. They fell before his sword strokes, both near and far.

Far! The sword was able to...

The blade of a thousand cuts.

The voice rang out clear in her head, and this time there was no doubt something was reaching out to her from across time and space. The words which had confused her mother suddenly became clear to her.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The unworthiest of the unworthy shall rise above their station and the blade of a thousand cuts will once again be brought forth to battle.

It wasn’t a warning, but a prophecy.

The Taiyosori; it had always been meant for her hand.

She was its master now, and it was time to use it to bring order from this chaos, to protect this world and the people in it.

Kisaki waited for the latest volley of spells to peter out, then she spun and swung the blade, picturing Ichitiro standing directly in its path. Words formed in her mind, spoken once by a god and now meant for her. Almost as if it had a will all its own, her mouth opened and she screamed out, “SENSURU!”

The sword pulsed once in her hands and then it was as if all the stars shining within its translucent blade leapt forth from the weapon and flew toward Ichitiro, becoming blades in their own right as they homed in on him.

Dozens ... hundreds of them. No, Kisaki realized with a twinge of both shock and amusement, a full thousand – the blade’s namesake.

Kisaki’s eyes opened wide as the attack closed in on her foe, but not as wide as the daimao’s. His miasma formed around him, quick as thought, just as the first of the magical blades reached him.

A few were deflected, but most cut through his defenses like butter.

Ichitiro screamed, the sound nearly deafening. Gone was the rage, the surprise. This was a cry of pure pain.

I hope there’s enough there for every person you’ve hurt today!

Lightning crackled and more of the miasma formed, blocking Ichitiro from view as he continued to be assaulted by the Taiyosori’s power. But still the screaming continued, the high-pitched keening wail of one who was used to dealing out pain but was a mere novice at experiencing it.

There came a massive burst of light and a crack of thunder as the last of the Taiyosori’s attacks hit home. When it cleared, gone was the miasma. Left in its place was an unmoving figure wearing the cracked remains of celestial armor. Ichitiro floated where he was for a moment longer, then he plummeted to Earth.

♦ ♦ ♦

Kisaki wasted no time. She ran to where the daimao had fallen. A dust cloud rose as if he weighed a lot more than his size belied.

She dodged piles of rubble, burning debris, and leapt over craters left in the scarred Earth. She didn’t allow herself the luxury of thinking him defeated, that the impossible had been done. The daimao were awesomely powerful and they recovered quickly.

Amazingly, Ichitiro was rising again even as she approached, although he appeared far less formidable than when he’d first arrived. His horns were a broken mess and a gash ran horizontal across one cheek, making it look as if he were grinning at her. Black blood leaked from a dozen or more wounds in his body, and his armor was in tatters. But he was still alive, and that meant he was dangerous.

Kisaki realized she was smart to be wary, for he struck out at her as she neared him, slashing with the razor sharp claws on his hands. It was an ugly attack, ungainly and with little grace to it, but it was backed by a frightening amount of strength. Kisaki dodged out of the way and the daimao struck a pile of rubble next to her, utterly pulverizing rock and sending a shower of dust falling onto them both.

He struck again with his other hand, catching her on the thigh and almost knocking her down.

She was beginning to breathe hard again. All of the power of the Taiyosori, all of the blood memories, they couldn’t make up for the fact that Kisaki’s body only had a finite amount of resources at her command, resources which she realized she was beginning to reach the limit of.

No matter which way it ended, this battle was nearing its conclusion.

Both combatants seemed to sense this. They engaged in heated combat, each attacking and alternately parrying in a dizzying array of moves. Ichitiro brought strength and speed to the fight, slashing, clawing, and grabbing, while Kisaki moved with deftness and grace, using skill to offset the advantage in raw power that he had over her.

It wasn’t enough, though. Gradually, he began to force her back, put her on the defensive. One claw would strike out and she’d deflect it, only for the other to follow before she could mount a proper offense.

“Lady Kisaki!”

It was Shitoro, coming to her aid again, from the sound of things. If anything, she didn’t mind the help this time. If the little youkai could do anything to distract her foe it would...

Sadly, it was she who was distracted. Whether by the sound of his voice or her allowing herself the momentary luxury of hope, Ichitiro took advantage of it. He swung at her and she moved to block, but it was a feint on his part. She hit nothing with the blade, the momentum pulling her off balance, allowing Ichitiro to slash her across the midsection.

This was no mere scratch. His claws went deep, digging four furrows across her stomach.

The pain was immediate and intense, as if he’d shredded her innards. She dropped to one knee and put a hand over her wounds, desperately hoping to keep her guts from spilling out onto the ground.

Kisaki heard Shitoro cry her name again, but it sounded muted, far away as if coming from the other end of a tunnel. She could only watch as Ichitiro threw a fireball past her. There came an explosion from outside her line of sight. She tried to turn to see what had happened to her faithful friend, but pain racked her body at the movement and she crumpled to the ground.

Ichitiro, injured as he was, stood above her triumphant. He stared down at her, then at the Taiyosori still in her hand. He bent to reach for it, greed showing plainly in his eyes, but then stopped short with a laugh.

“No, I think not,” he said. “But do not fret, little hanyou. I shall claim it before your body has even begun to cool.”

Kisaki let out a scream as he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet, forcing her to face him and exposing her throat. She gasped as he pulled back with his free hand and prepared to end this fight.

“You fought well but are nothing compared to the daimao. Go to your grave knowing this, and pray it is a lesson you learn for your next life.”

Kisaki ignored his words as best as she could. She desperately tried to reach deep inside of herself, tried to force the world to slow down – hoping that either her mother or father had some wisdom to share that might help her in this, her most dire moment.

Sadly, they remained silent in her head. Perhaps they had no further insight to give her, or maybe it was their way of telling her that she’d failed them. Either way, she realized she had no one but herself to rely on.

Ichitiro began to bring his claws down, looking to take her head off with one swing.

In that moment, her eyes opened wide. However, it wasn’t with fear, but realization.

Perhaps that was their final lesson. That there would be times when she could rely on nobody but herself. And if so, then her survival was entirely in her own hands.

Her hands. One was still covering her wounds, but in the other...

Time seemed to slow down ever so slightly, but no vision accompanied it. Only Ichitiro remained, his eyes shining with naked avarice as he moved to behead her and claim the prize he would no doubt use to set the heavens ablaze.

There was no time to think, only to act. Kisaki dropped, pulling with everything she had. She gritted her teeth, feeling as if she were about to be scalped, then threw back her arm and swung the sword above her.

It was a sloppy, desperate move, with almost no force behind it, but it wasn’t meant to stop her vastly more powerful foe.

She sliced through her own hair just as his claws closed on her – freeing herself from his grasp. Her reward was a swoosh of air from above that told her time had resumed its normal pace. More importantly, Ichitiro had missed. So mighty had been his swing that he actually knocked himself off balance for a moment.

Fighting the crippling pain in her midsection, forcing it down for one final moment of defiance, Kisaki rolled and came up behind Ichitiro. He turned toward her a second too slow. She lifted the Taiyosori above her head with both hands, feeling her life’s blood pouring out of her body and then, nearly blinded by pain, she brought it down with everything she had left, severing the daimao’s right arm cleanly at the shoulder.

Steaming black blood sprayed from the wound, scalding hot against Kisaki’s skin, but she barely felt it.

She and Ichitiro stared at each other silently for several more seconds, and then both toppled over.