XI
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Arc XI Chapter 7
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Silence ruled the room. Lord Yoshito cleared his throat, facets of doubt lingered across his face. His lack of belief in her and her capabilities was tangible. Neither he, nor his retainers, were a paragon of unshakable confidence. Quite the contrary. Much to Asami's disappointment, the seeds of doubt had found fertile soil and now bore abundant fruit, poisoning the minds and spirits of lesser men.
Not that it mattered. A hidden smirk adorned Asami's ruby lips. Unbeknownst to Lord Yoshito, he and his men were already as good as hers, caught in the palm of her hand. A little nudge in the correct direction was all that was necessary to convince them of their future luck.
A sigh escaped Lord Yoshito. “Your confidence is laudable, and your boldness praiseworthy, Lady Miyumi. Your audacity is certainly impressive for your age, and your determination speaks for itself. Yet, I must advise caution. Where there is confidence, there also lurks the danger of overconfidence. Considering the circumstances, it would be unwise to act prematurely. With all due respect, Lady Miyumi, you are but a little girl. The men under my command are few in number and most of our allies far away … We are severely outnumbered. I doubt that we can overcome Mifune and his men …”
Asami interrupted Lord Yoshito. It was neither the first time, nor would it be the last time that she was underestimated due to her appearance. “Lord Yoshito, my presence alone will more than suffice to resolve this matter in an adequate manner. My capabilities far surpass even your wildest imagination. Mifune and his men will fall should you give the order.” Her hand reached for her scabbard. The message was clear and didn't escape Lord Yoshito and his guards. His samurai mirrored her motion, reaching for their respective blades.
Lord Yoshito was quick to apologise, “Lady Miyumi, it was never our intention to offend you, but our doubts unfortunately remain. Your capabilities aside, we do not see as to how ...”
Lord Yoshito froze in an instant, hos whole body ceased moving. The sharp edge of her blade caressed his unprotected throat.
“You are slow, Lord Yoshito”, Asami spoke, her voice ice cold and her glimmering with a hint of purple darkness. Her eyes met his gaze, probing deep into his mind and consciousness. “Many have already made the error of underestimating me based on my age. Few of them have survived my blade. The rest have perished. Fortunately for you and your men, your error should not be to your detriment, as I have no intention of turning my blade against you. Rest assured, my confidence is not misplaced, nor is it a product of false bravado. Your enemies are my enemies. They will fall one by one. Their lives will end before the sun rises, in a matter of mere moments, if you will.”
“How ...” Lord Yoshito hesitated. “How ... How can you be so sure of yourself?”
Asami giggled, amused by his question. “How can I not be? To defy me means to defy heaven, the will of the kami itself. Follow me, and victory awaits you as sure as the sun rises in the east. I will see to it.”
Her answer satisfied the Lord Yoshito. His lips formed an eager grin. “I see. Rokuro!”
A samurai stepped forwards, kneeling before them. “Yes, My Lord!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Rokuro, accompany Lady Myumi. You know the castle. Show her the way.”
The samurai nodded. “Understood, My Lord.”
Asami mustered a warm smile, satisfied with the outcome. “You have taken the right decision, Lord Yoshito, we won't disappoint you.”
The moon stood high and midnight shrouded the night in darkness. It would be a night stained with blood.
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Past long corridors floors, towering wooden beams, and floors of polished wood, lay a small private chamber. Inside, there was resting Mifune, the lord of the castle and shogun of the Land of Iron, soundly asleep ...
In an instant, his eyes opened, his hand for grabbing for his trusted blade, Kurosawa. Two figures invaded his chamber, intruders, no doubt. But his senses deceived him. The sight of two old companions and not intruders greeted him, Urakaku and Okisuke.
Mifune narrowed his eyes at his loyal aides and subordinates. “Okisuke, Urakaku, what are you doing here at such a late hour? Didn't you see that I was sleeping?”
The two samurai were both kneeling before their lord and master. Okisuke took the word, “Our apologies, Lord Mifune, but time is sparse. We must flee immediately. The castle has fallen, and the enemy is approaching quickly. We must escape before the enemy reaches us.”
Mifune didn't understand. “The castle has fallen? What are you talking about, Okisuke?”
“Lord Yoshito and his men have raised their banners in open rebellion. They are already moving against us.”
“What?!!!” Mifune didn't believe his ears. “Here? Now? The bastard, what is he thinking? Has he gone insane? But how? How could the castle have fallen so easily to him and his traitors?”
Urakuku lowered his head. “We don't know. We have lost contact with the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Company. The 4th and 5th don't respond to our calls. The 6th is engaged in heavy fighting. They won't be able to hold the enemy back for long. We suggest retreating to the countryside as the best of course of action. We will gather our forces and strike back later.”
“...” Mifune grumbled, but eventually relented. Urakuku was right. His old hands took his blade and grabbed his robes. “Let's go. Time is of the essence.”
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Mifune and his men were rushing through the corridors, sprinting towards their path to freedom. A gruesome sight greeted them. Lifeless corpses littered the castle. Butchered, eviscerated, massacred, they lay there on the ground, their blood soaking into the wood. An iron stench saturated the air.
The reports proved true, a grim reaper was stalking the castle, hunting relentlessly for new prey. This was not the work of a samurai. This was the work of a demon of old, a demon from beyond.
Mifune gripped his sword. This was an enemy unlike he had ever faced before. This degree of precision was uncanny. The deadly efficiency disturbing. Silence reigned the castle in presence of such dark deeds. And none were the wiser. Their death must have come swiftly. They had been slaughtered in cold blood. Lords, retainers, samurai, servants, they all met their fate in a frenzied spree.
Mifune gritted his teeth. Yoshito would pay for this. He would pay for his crimes as long as he was drawing breath. Speaking of the devil ...
Mifune and his men arrived at an open courtyard. Falling snow covered the stone in pristine white. The dark night clad the ground in darkness.
Lord Yoshito grinned. He and his men welcomed him in full armour. “Lord Mifune, what an honour to chance upon you. We have been already awaiting you.”
Mifune clicked his tongue in open disdain and brandished his blade. “Hold your tongue, fiend. You will pay for your crimes, Yoshito. May the kami have mercy on your wicked soul. I will deliver justice right here, right now. Face me in combat if you have the nerve to call yourself a samurai ...”
A soft, tender giggle interjected. The voice was familiar. “Such is not necessary, Lord Mifune. Lord Yoshito is unfortunately currently unavailable. Thus, I would gladly take his place unless you retract your offer.”
A girl appeared, clad in her black kimono and armed with a sword stained with blood. Her blade had claimed the souls of hundreds, if not thousands.
Mifune narrowed his eyes. He understood. Suddenly everything became clear. Her visit. Her offer. Her honeyed words. It was her. It was a demon in the skin of a girl standing before him. It was her who had instigated this rebellion and butchered his men. “So it was you.”
“Possibly.” The girl tilted her head, a beatific smile belying her demonic nature in disguise. Her childish innocence masked the darkness within her heart.
Mifune readied his sword, his hand steady and calm. The girl followed suit. Her sword was fast and nimble, led with the arrogance of youth. And yet her blade betrayed the experience of its wielder. The girl was master of the sword.
They both faced each other in the middle of the snow covered castle’s grounds. They both knew that only one of them would be walking away alive.
Their swords clashed together with full force, sending sparks flying in a frenzied dance. The snow and ice crunched beneath their feet as their blades met.
It was the night his blossom bloomed for the last time. The last petal fell amidst the darkness of the night, gracing the red stained snow.
image [https://i.imgur.com/rehsGEl.png]
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