It was a cold, wintery afternoon. I sat in the fort, waiting for the snow to pass so that we could march upon our next destination. Four years had passed ever since I had begun this conquest, and I had made few allies and many enemies.

I looked at the notes concerning our food supplies, making sure our forces had enough to provide the townspeople with and for ourselves to get through this season. To the west, it was much colder than the other provinces of Visereal. Winter was harsh, and I was not as cruel as to force my troops to oppose mother nature.

It wasn’t at noon that one of the soldiers bursted through the gates, telling me that we had received an unexpected guest. Typically the soldiers wouldn’t bother me with meaningless details, so I assumed that something must have happened.

Right outside of the gate was a single samurai, armed and dressed for combat and kneeling on the ground. The guards that patrolled outside had been knocked unconscious on the ground. I looked down from the high wall. Who was this strange man?

The samurai looked up just as I had arrived. Our eyes met, and I knew that he was here for me.

“Open the gates,” I commanded, and I dropped down below. The snow was forcefully shoved to the side as I made my landing. Several of my soldiers dragged the unconscious guards away.

“Back off. You will only get in the way,” I commanded.

The gates closed as the samurai stood up, his sword still in his sheath.

“Who are you?” I shouted. “What do you want?”

“My name…” he reached for the back of his head, taking off his helmet and revealed a scarred, battle worm face. His skin was pale and rough, like the heat had been drained from his face. He must have been travelling through the cold for a while now. “Is Shimazu Yoshihisa.”

Shimazu. He belonged to one of the clans, one that specialized in swordplay.

A clan I had destroyed.

“Are you here for revenge?” I was disappointed.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“My family is gone. I have no one to live for. I seek what all great warriors seek. An honorable death.”

“You came here to die?” I snickered. Honor was such a pointless delusion.

“I came here to find my destiny,” he took his position. “If I die, then the fates have decreed that my time has come. If I live, then I will live to die another day.”

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. And I could already feel it. The aura around him was intense, much like the way Ivan left a flare on the battlefield. He was strong. Stronger than me? I didn’t know.

Black armor enveloped me, layering me in the black armor that I wore into war. And before I even had a chance to consider my options, the battle had already begun.

He was fast, as fast as me. In a flash he appeared before me, sword already drawn. Our blades locked, and we traded blow after blow. He was pushed back, and then he fought back with unexpected force. I was surprised, and was pushed back this time. Back and forth, as our strength increased in response to the other. The sound of steel crashing against steel only grew louder as the sun reached its peak.

Cold sweat poured down my armor, turning into light snow we stomped around in the snow. Then the clouds above the sky began to gather, turning into an insidious black, an omen of the rain to come.

But that was impossible. It was in the middle of winter, there shouldn’t have been any rain. Hail began to descend from the sky, pelting us with small ice as our skirmish continued. It was a complete stalemate, neither of us could land a blow on the other. My arms began to feel heavier and heavier, and he must have too. At least an hour had passed since we had begun, and it didn’t see like this fight would end anytime soon.

Suddenly he jumped up into the air, his arm reaching up into the air, and the clouds roared. I saw a fork of light descend from the heavens as thunder struck the samurai in his open arm. I saw a cloud of smoke where he stood before I could feel the jolt run through my body, the lightning instantaneously arcing to me.

I had managed to raise my sword in response to the projectile that had been thrown at me, however there was no point in blocking a thunderbolt with a sword. Thankfully, my armor protected me from any nerve damage but it was now severely damaged. Black matter chipped off, disintegrating into dust as the air crackled with electricity.

I looked up, and the samurai didn’t give me any room to breathe. He had rushed directly at me, but my blurry eyes couldn't see very well through the dropping hail. And I saw too late that he had already gathered his next attack. Another bolt was in his hands, and the flesh on his hand reeled apart from the heat as the thunder ran straight through my body, this time without my armor to absorb the shock. I fell onto my knees, the flesh on my stomach fell onto my ground, turning the whtie snow black and charred.

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I was in pain, but I spent my whole life in pain. It was no excuse to lose.

His sword came down, slicing my shoulder. Before he could cut any deeper, I lunged forward, sending my sword into his stomach as well. Both of our bloods mixed on the ground, forming a pool underneath us. We both stood still, stuck in our unusual positions for a split second. He didn’t show any signs of pain, but neither did I.

A rare sensation made its appearance to me today in abundance.

Respect.

I recognized and remembered the way his sword moved, in a continuous motion. I began to micic his swordplay that flowed like a calm stream of water, absorbing it into my style.

Our swords left each others’ bodies and clashed again. His blows became weaker as he injured his arm in the process of using thunder. I didn’t hold back, pressing him harder and harder. At the same time using more force was really hard with half my stomach missing, and eventually our slashes became lighter, but faster. Instead of sparks flying, all we saw were blurs of steel as our blades flew across the air with the intent to kill. Our bodies began to disappear, and the only thing left was shadows across the snow air as our speeds increased to the point human eyes couldn’t keep up. But I wasn’t human, and he had surpassed his limits long ago. As we began to inflict cuts on each other, lines of blood began to splatter across the black snow, turning it into shades of pink and red. Using my magic under such pressure was difficult, especially when keeping my armor up as well.

However for a split second when he had slowed down, I threw my hand forward, crafting a fan of swords in the air. He dodged with precision, how, I will never know. His eyes never left mine, but he dodged the first five without even looking backwards. But the last blade impaled the back of his leg, forcing him to stop moving for a second. And in that moment the sky cracked, sending another bolt of lightning down where we stood. His sword gleamed yellow, infused with hot thunder. When I raised my sword against him this time my blade shattered, leaving me open. I blocked, attempting to bring up a shield to protect myself, but that idea was short lived as he cut it down. Black shards flew everywhere, and as my shield broke I knew that I was edging closer to death.

I refused to be taken. I refused to believe that my time had come. So in a final valiant effort I turned myself into a creation of my own. Black matter dug into my skin, hardening and improving.

There was something else that I felt now.

The desire to win.

The desire to defeat the warrior that had appeared before me.

To become even stronger.

And my armor shed into pure white, gleaming the same color as the surrounding hail that rained down from the sky.

For the first time, I saw myself in the reflection of his sword.

I saw the White Rider.

Before the blade reached me, I formed another sword in my hands. A pure white blade, and we engaged in our final duel. Now, both of his hands were smoking, turned into ashes by the lightning. He wasn’t using magic, it was something that was out of my understanding.

This lightning infused blade was hot, warming up the sweat inside of my armor, but I didn’t let that scare me. His strength was far weaker than before, but not enough that I could choose to fight him using only one arm. So I continued my onslaught of attacks in a continuous motion, not allowing him any moment to recover. The air around me turned into a bubble as I weaved myself into a masterpiece. I could still see and feel every moment during that hyper focused state. The entire battlefield was white now. All the trees had disappeared, and I didn’t care about anything else in the world. It was just me and the samurai.

To the death.

Hours passed. We fought each other, locked in a complete stalemate. He was the finest swordsman I had ever faced, able to keep up with me even though his arms were almost dead.

He tried, using every last ounce of his energy and strength to keep up. But the thunder had taken a toll on his body and I had recovered from the damage it inflicted upon me. He had thought that I would fall like most of his enemies had.

I learned from his blade, etching every moment of it into my head and making it my own.

It was unfortunate that he thought that I was human. His sword flew out of his hand, whirling across the air and fell into the snow while my blade reached his throat, stopping just before it drew blood. His arms fell to the side, completely lifeless. He might not be able to wield a sword ever again.

I held my blade, not moving. I didn’t want to kill him. Not like this.

He wasn’t my enemy. His family were just people that were defending themselves from us, in some way. He didn’t ask for this war.

“Kill me,” he knelt onto the floor on both knees, putting his arms onto his sides. “Do it.”

My hands followed, making sure that I didn’t harm him. I stepped back, taking my sword with me.

“There’s no honor in death…” I shouted angrily. “You shouldn’t die. Not yet.”

“There is nothing more life has to offer me,” he sounded like he was in bliss. “I’ve seen enough of this world.”

“You could have done so much more. You could have fought for your kingdom. Now you just choose to run away.”

Yoshihisa smiled at me, already accepting his destiny. “The world doesn’t need me anymore. I’ve seen what honor and loyalty does to good men. The age of the samurai is over… my time has passed.”

I remained silent.

“It won’t be so bad… leaving this world to someone like you. You’re not the cruel man I hear in the stories.”

He smiled, blood spilling out of his mouth. It seemed that his body was truly at its end. He knew that he would never hold a sword again. His arm was smoking, completely limp at his side. He had truly used everything in that last fight. And he came quite close to killing me, more than most people had.

“End it,” he croaked, bowing his head. “Let me die with honor.”

I went to his side, crafting a thin, sharp curved blade. Just like the one that Nobunaga and him wielded. Gently, I held it just above his head, raising it up slowly. Then I brought it down with as much speed and force that I could apply.

And gave him a gentle, painless death.

I buried him just outside of the village, inscribing his name carefully onto the gravestone. I couldn’t carry his body to be buried with his family, but I would remember him. He came to kill me with nothing but sheer willpower. I buried him with his sword. I didn’t share his beliefs, nor did I share his blood.

I believed that honor was a fictional delusion that was used as an excuse to escape the truth. Yet, I still respected him. Shimazu Yoshihisa, last of his name. A man of honor, that fought and died for his ideals.

Whose name I shall burn into the echelons of my bitter memories.