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Titan Tiger
Tales of the Night Fangs: The Way of the World

Tales of the Night Fangs: The Way of the World

They had been riding through the Arkovian snows for most of the frosty morning and Xerxes would still break out into another rant from out of the blue. “You are both squabbling children!” he yelled through his lion helm and pulled back on his steed. “I should be at Darkfall, giving wise counsel to the Empress and instead I find myself here, having to babysit the two of you like some fat nanny!”

As Xerxes continued to chastise them, Amaya would only smirk, seemingly entertained by his rage. She rode her white mare in silence. Under her blue cloak, a grey cave lion pelt was adorned over her black jacket, which she had obtained during their most recent descent down the Monsoon Mountain. Hideo’s armoured chestnut grunted and whinnied whenever a cold wind struck, but otherwise gave him no bother. The horses of Darkfall were exotic in provenance. Many of them were a gift of goodwill from King Sigismund Greenfire when he sent a sentry to help defend the sacred Night Fang temple from a Stone Ronin siege. Hideo had found Sigismund Greenfire’s excessive generosity somewhat suspect, but to question the trade was above Hideo’s station and would surely result in another beating from Xerxes. Regardless, the beasts bred well enough, and the fraternity would be well-rationed with steeds for many a year.

As daylight graced them, so did the harsh climate. Hideo’s fukuman was wrapped tight around his face to keep the skin of his cheeks from freezing off. He, Amaya, and Xerxes were not the only three travellers journeying together. Much to Hideo’s bewilderment, Takeda, captain of the Empress’ samurai guard, offered his hand. He secreted his shining steel armour under layers of ragged robes as if his unusual handsomeness were not already a giveaway that he was not merely some local peasant.

Trouble was to be expected in the east of Arkovia, especially Cold Crow, a vast region known for banditry and footpads outside the sparse villages and settlements. The most troubling characteristic of the region was that Cold Crow was Stone Ronin territory, and the four of them were riding into the heart of it.

Despite the brewing tension due to a constant threat of an ambush, Hideo suspected Xerxes’ outburst was something to do with the night before. Amaya had successfully hunted a prongdeer within an hour whilst it took the renowned Thane of the fraternity known as Steel Lion nearly half the night to find one jackalope that successfully eluded him and fled into the shrouding darkness of nearby shrubbery. As they broke fast on Amaya’s kill around a campfire under the stars, she had asked Xerxes if the Empress cooked his meals back at Darkfall and bathed him as well. Xerxes raved and cursed for what felt like hours. It appeared that in the harsh light of day, the Thane of the Night Fangs was still not over the Archer’s slight. Of course, this was just more kindling to the already ablaze fire.

When it was time for Amaya Kantanarro’s judgment (which many fangs filled the throne room to observe), the Empress had decided to listen to Hideo’s pleas for clemency. She announced to all gathered in the throne room that she would give the former assassin of the sisterhood another chance. She and Hideo were to travel to Cold Crow to assassinate a notorious Stone Ronin commander. Additionally, this time they would venture with Xerxes who would act as mentor and supervisor. Naturally, the Thane vehemently objected this proposal, but Her Sapphire Highness’ word was final. “Perhaps they just need guidance,” the Empress had suggested with a warm voice. “And they could do with the assistance. This mark makes Alker Stringer look like a ballet dancer.” It was what the Empress decreed, and Hideo shortly found himself once again travelling beside rather hostile companions through cold Arkovian country.

They rode in silence for some time when Takeda noticed something beyond the horizon. “I do believe I have eyed civilisation,” the Samurai said proudly and pointed ahead. Hideo saw from afar and beyond the twined white hills a small blurry village emerging.

The sky was clear and for the first time in a while, snow was not falling, making it easier to see what lay ahead in the distance. “I don’t know about anyone else, but my stomach is grumbling like a Nanuqsaurus.” Takeda glanced at Amaya, wondering if she understood the jape. Her face gave nought away. “Shall we see if there is a market offering? We could use the nourishment.”

“Absolutely not you, oaf,” Xerxes objected. “We are in our assassin garments, you in that conspicuous silver armour and it is daylight. We will skirt around the village.”

“We have spare civilian attire, Xerxes,” Takeda pointed out, “and I’m no novice. I think you have forgotten to hold your tongue when talking to your peers.”

“Is that a threat?” Xerxes growled from under his lion helm.

“No, but perhaps the wild archer has a point,” the Samurai casually pondered. “You have been awfully sheltered. When was the last time you were out in the Arkovian snows? Who was the last adversary you fought who wasn’t an inexperienced novice wielding a wooden sword?”

“It will be you soon enough,” Xerxes grumbled. “I get enough grief from the turncoat.”

As they rode further beyond the twined hills, Hideo saw a disconcerting sight from the enigmatic village. “There’s smoke,” he said through a muffled voice behind his dark blue fukuman.

“When was the last time either of you gentlemen observed the map?” Amaya finally spoke up and, to her visible amusement, she noticed that both Xerxes and Takeda had clearly forgotten to consult it recently. The joy that she appeared to obtain from their error was palpable. “Did it ever occur to you two that we might be near our mark?” she asked, with blatant condescension.

Xerxes scoffed. “Just because there may be Stone Ronin in this village doesn’t mean that he is in the village.”

Amaya smiled. “Not to worry, Xerxes. I’ll allow you to keep your pride and give you some time to pretend that you concluded on your own that we should investigate.”

Takeda burst out into laughter. “I’m glad the Empress kept you around. You have more stones than any of the fangs back at Darkfall.” He turned his gaze towards Hideo. “Your friend, however. He is a little too obsequious for my liking.”

“He’s not obsequious,” Amaya defended, much to Hideo’s surprise. “Just silent and brooding. You can’t have a drink with him, but he can certainly swing a sword well enough and express disapproval when he wants to. I had to suffer his company long enough to know that.” And thus, the compliment turned into an insult. Only when the blue moon rises would Amaya Kantanarro ever be caught giving praise to anyone but herself.

As their mares and stallions took them closer to the outskirts of the village, a bleak picture began to unveil itself. Broken and burnt homes left trails of detritus across the snows, but what twisted Hideo’s stomach the most were the bodies slumped over wooden shards and long, bloody spears. Their deaths were no mystery. They were trying to defend their home and failed. “Cravens,” Xerxes commented in disgust.

“Are you referring to the dead?” Amaya asked.

“Of course not!” the Thane boomed. “The ronin. They take vulnerable families by surprise. Without warning. There is no honour in that.”

“Still believe we should steer clear of this place?” Takeda asked.

“We don’t know how many of them there are,” said Steel Lion, “and we have only come for one man.”

The man in question was Satake Akinobu. Hideo had heard only a little about the man. Merely that he was one of the Stone Ronin’s leading generals.

The stories and rumours that were told made him feel ill inside. He was not sure what was hearsay and what was the truth, but the sights he saw riding through the rest of this condemned village made him believe every tale. The smell was the worst part. A rotting, pungent smell of death and burning flesh took hold of Hideo’s nostrils and never let go.

“There is no shame in looking away,” Takeda called back to him and Amaya, who rode behind. Hideo wanted to look. He wanted to see every sight. Every atrocity. Every corpse. Every foul deed that was done here, he vowed to not forget.

When Xerxes caught vision of a pathway leading up towards a serene hill untapped by the ronin’s violence, Hideo found a young woman no older than him crying beside the remains of a burnt home adjacent to their exit. He pulled his chestnut to a halt and dismounted, much to Xerxes’ consternation.

“What are you doing, Craven Brother!” the Thane snapped in an aggressive whisper. “We are near the end of it!”

Hideo ignored him. The crying woman had her face buried in her hands as she sobbed in despair. She was in various layers of prongdeer and bear pelts. She appeared ill-equipped to endure the cold, yet seemed unfazed. Grief can make for a sombrely warm garment, Hideo thought bleakly. His sister had said that once back at New Jade City. It was true. The cold did not bother Hideo the first nights after she vanished.

As the villager heard Hideo’s approaching footsteps, her eyes turned wide. “You are Night Fangs!” she concluded with ease as she saw them. Hideo could hear Xerxes curse from afar. The Woman jumped up and ran to him, grabbing the Ninja’s arms with desperate hope. “You’re Night Fangs!” she repeated. “You kill monsters, you avenge the innocent!”

“What happened here?” Hideo asked her.

Amaya approached them on her white mare. “Hideo,” she said calmly. “Steel Lion grows impatient.” Xerxes and Takeda shortly followed behind the Archer, but all three of them appeared reluctant to dismount.

“The Stone Ronin,” the villager reported frantically to Hideo, her nails digging deep into his forearms. “They came, they pillaged, they sacked our homes and now they have my family. My brother, my sister, my uncles-”

“Calm down,” Hideo said as he softly placed a hand on her shoulder.

“No!” she slapped his hand back, repudiating the gesture. “They mean to execute them!”

“Craven Brother,” Xerxes interrupted with great displeasure, ushering his steed closer. “We must move on. We have much ground to cover.”

“Please!” the villager begged, digging her fingernails tighter into Hideo’s skin. “Most of the ronin have left! Only a handful remain and their commander!”

Despite how inappropriate it would have been given the dire circumstances; Hideo could have kissed her out of joy for including that last part of the tale. If there was a chance that Satake was this commander, Xerxes would have to allow them to stay and investigate. He looked back at the man in the lion helm and raised an eyebrow under his blue zukin.

“Where is this, commander?” Xerxes asked from atop his high horse.

“They are gathering in the village centre, please!” The villager’s reddened eyes were streaming with icy tears. “They intend to hang my family for disobedience. All they tried to do was to leave this horror, but we have been forbidden from leaving.”

“What is your name?” Hideo asked.

“Ukita,” the villager said after a hesitant moment.

“Ukita, we’ll do what we can.” Hideo left and briskly mounted his chestnut mare and joined the others as they changed direction to head into the heart of the village.

“This place is Heartstring,” Takeda casually informed them as he observed the map whilst riding. “The largest village in Cold Crow. Ostensibly a humble and thriving community.” He glanced away from the map to see a pack of microraptors flapping their raven-black wings and fighting over the eye of a fallen villager that lay deceased in the snow. He briskly turned his attention back to the map. “This place is meant to have the Khan’s guardsman,” he commented. “Are they just awfully deep sleepers?”

“Probably taken and killed,” Xerxes concluded as they all continued galloping into the mist.

“You shouldn’t have given that villager hope, Hideo,” Amaya told him as they turned a corner around a house where only a torn chair remained after the sacking fires.

Hideo glanced at her with a frown. “I can’t leave an innocent family to die.”

“A smarter Night Fang than us would wait until nightfall,” Xerxes grumbled in agitation. “Sneak into Satake’s chambers and slit his throat in the dark, keeping our existence questionable to outsiders.”

“Then why are you riding with us and not stopping us?” Hideo asked him.

Xerxes did not have a retort.

Amaya pulled her mare back, indicating for Hideo to do the same. As much as he didn’t want to slow his speed, he did so enough that Xerxes and Takeda would be out of earshot.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As their mounts fell back, Amaya’s sharp eyes studied Hideo from under her hood. “I hope you aren’t having me risk my neck just so that you have a chance to gander under that villager's skirt?”

Hideo frowned. “Whether Satake lives or dies, would you be able to sleep tonight knowing you allowed a dozen innocents to be hanged?”

“I’m sure I’d have unpleasant nightmares. I just hope that is the honest reason. Maybe it is not for lust but for familial love. Was it a villager you saw crying over the carnage, or your sister?”

“Leave Hiroko out of this,” Hideo said curtly, severely regretting that he told Amaya anything about his past.

“Some of the more wizened fangs at Darkfall said she was one of the Fraternity’s most ruthless killers.” A smirk slithered across the Archer’s lips. “You come across so much more… restrained.”

“By your standards, perhaps.”

Amaya chuckled. “I’m just curious as to how you both ended up joining this clan.”

Hideo shuddered. Not from the cold Arkovian winds. From the memories, he would have preferred to remain buried. “We come from a… problematic family. She hoped to find a better one in Darkfall, but serving the Empress and raising me proved… challenging.”

“Ah, so that’s why she turned her tail.”

“I don’t know why we fled to New Jade,” Hideo snapped back. It might have been a well-meaning curiosity, but he grew weary dwelling on his sister and their broken history. “She never told me. She kept me in a boarding school whilst she served and seldom visited.”

“No doubt the cruellest act she had committed.”

He ignored the Archer’s jape. “One day she arrived, said we would be journeying south, and that was the end of it. She never told me much. Never confided in me. But she kept me alive.” Hideo felt his voice break and his lip quiver and thanked Snowbinder that his thick clothing hid his face.

Up ahead, Xerxes raised a clenched fist, signalling them to a halt. They all did as he requested and promptly formed up and dismounted. Something made Xerxes stop but Hideo could not see what. On silent footsteps, Steel Lion led them around the back of a ruined hut where they crawled through a prickly and most uncomfortable trail of thickets. Upon crawling out the other end of the decaying foliage the Thane took them around the back of a burned home that at least had a wall and roof, albeit precariously intact. Hideo got his view of the horrors through a hole where a missing wooden panel was previously kicked through, most likely by an invading ronin.

A small crowd was gathered around the gallows and Hideo eyed around a dozen Stone Ronin posted around various points of the village square. Each one in plated armour the colour of the darkest of forest leaves and laced with chainmail as black as soot. Many wore kabutos that seemed to be stolen from the Khan’s guardsmen or made shoddily themselves and consisting of blunted iron. The four Night Fangs watched from the derelict home as they witnessed Stone Ronin dragging screaming men, women, and children from their homes. It became clear to Hideo that this crowd was not here willingly. Elderly, crippled, boys and girls, all seemed to be attending with sombre looks on their hopeless and dour faces.

“Hideo,” Amaya whispered whilst nudging his side with the sharp edge of her bow. “This family you wish to rescue. Do you reckon it will be an easy task?”

“I’m not leaving until I find them alive or dead, Amaya,” Hideo said stubbornly.

“Then perhaps you should direct your attention to the gallows and tell me what your big plan is.”

The prisoners who were each having a noose fastened around their necks matched Ukita’s descriptions. A sister, around Ukita’sage, in ragged clothes and bruised arms. A younger brother with a blackened eye from only the spirits know how many beatings. Two middle-aged, bearded men with swollen faces, but there were others on the grey gallows. Hideo could not decipher whether the old crone was the villager’s aunt or grandmother, yet the sight of her withered eyes looking down as the rope fastened around her neck made him angry.

“None of you do anything hasty,” Xerxes cautioned behind Hideo and the Archer. “It is cruel and unjust, but the way of the world.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to just watch and let this happen,” Hideo scornfully hissed.

Xerxes emerald eyes beamed behind his lion helm. “Your turncoat friend interfered with an unjust thing and innocents still died,” he said coolly.

A Stone Ronin stepped to the centre of the gallows and unrolled a long parchment. The upper half of his face was concealed by a metallic forest green oni mask, fitting with the man’s cruel demeanour.

“By order of Khan Sano,” he announced, “you have all been ordered to remain in your homes until you are given further orders.” He pointed to the noose-adorned villagers with an iron hand. “These traitors to the throne disobeyed the Khan’s royal command and have been charged with treason and desertion. Therefore, it is upon me, General Akinobu, to execute the Khan’s justice and to hereby sentence you to death.”

Unlike the public hangings in New Jade City, no one cheered. The judgement was received with a cold silence followed by the sound of wind that pushed debris and ash past the dirty bare feet of ragged villagers. Satake’s tyrannical performance was interrupted by a woman’s screams from the crowd.

Ukita pushed through the gathered detained locals, shouting her protests before two ronin grabbed her by the arms and threw her into the snow. Satake looked down and observed in approval as a ronin in a bronze kabuto kicked her in the waist to ensure that she did not object further.

“Satake must have chambers here,” Xerxes whispered through his lion helm behind Hideo. “We will wait until nightfall and then me and the Craven Brother will sneak into his bedroom and end the wretch.”

“Not soon enough,” Hideo declared, yet did not recognise the man saying the words. He glanced at Amaya. When she went rogue, he stood by her despite her foolish decision. He hoped that she would do the same for him.

“What are you doing?” Xerxes snapped when he noticed Hideo go for the door, but before he or Takeda could move to stop the Ninja, he was already outside.

He did not hide in shadows or behind trees. He walked until villagers and ronin alike began to take notice of his presence. Soon, the whole crowd turned and whispered in a hushed mixture of disbelief and foreboding uncertainty. He caught wind of Arkovian words for “Night Fang” and “Blue Shadow”. It was the reaction of Satake that Hideo was most gleefully looking forward to witnessing.

The Stone Ronin General studied him with the grey eyes that lay behind his oni mask. “Are you a local?” he called out to the Ninja. “There is plenty of room in the crowd for you to join.”

In response, the Ninja drew the katana he had strapped to his back. The black and gold handle gleamed, and the blade shimmered in the white sunlight. The sounds of blades being unsheathed by the surrounding ronin sang around the Ninja, but burning red hate was blurring his inhibitions too much to care.

“Boy,” the Night Fang’s mark warned from atop the gallows, “you are out-manned. Drop your weapon and let the Khan’s justice be done.”

The villagers looked towards the Ninja, including Ukita. She watched him from the snow that she was pushed into with tears crawling down her cheeks. The Night Fang remained silent, his katana raised, blue eyes beaming into his mark’s soul.

“Have it your way then,” his mark rasped. “I wonder who will die first.”

He kicked the wooden lever with the back of his boot, and the family dropped.

The Night Fang spun into a pirouette, clanging his katana against the steel of a Stone Ronin’s spear. The Night Fang ducked under the long black handle and slashed his blade across the attacking ronin’s neck. Blood rained into the snow. The crowd screamed and fled despite Satake’s firm reprimands that he bellowed from atop his high platform.

The second ronin in an iron helm wielded a curved scimitar and swung for the Night Fang’s left leg. The Ninja parried with his katana and the clang of steel rang across the village square. Their swords sang a desperate song whilst Ukita cried for her hanging family from afar.

The Night Fang spun and gave a sharp kick into the ronin’s crotch. When he was backed far enough away, the Ninja slashed his sword across the bandit’s forked beard. More blood sprayed across the fresh snows of Heartstring. Then all the Ninja felt was pain.

A searing sharp agony that burned and burrowed deep into the back of his shoulder. The snow felt embracing and soft on his knees as he fell. He desperately reached for the arrow behind his back and pulled with ferocity. It proved fruitless. His cries of pain joined the villagers and the ronin archer revealed himself by kicking him in the stomach. The red feathered plumes of the arrows end snapped as they tumbled into the white sheets, flakes splashing. The ronin wrapped coarse hands around the Ninja’s throat and over his strangler’s shoulder, Hideo could see the family dangling, their legs weakening and slowing with each kick. He began to feel faint. The sight of the gallows started to blur. The white haze consumed him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a blue, hazy bird fly into one of the hanging ropes. Ukita’s sister fell into the snow underneath the wooden platform, coughing, yet alive. Another bird struck across the hanging noose of the crone, and she fell from death’s grasp. As the ronin’s grip tightened around his neck, Hideo thought that he could see a silver angel appear on the gallows. Rather than escorting the remaining hanged men to some great beyond, above, the angel cut their nooses. They all fell into the snow. The angel turned to face the front of the gallows but rather than the flawless, beautiful face of some otherworldly being. Hideo saw Takeda’s smug grin. The Samurai yelled some inaudible jape to Amaya, who was fending off another ronin with the sharp end of her sapphire bow by the gallows’ stairway.

This brought the Night Fang back to the cold reality, and he gave up attempting to pry away his strangler’s hands. He reached for his curved blade and unsheathed it from his belt. The ronin was too absorbed to notice this and his eyes grew wide with surprise as Hideo inserted the blade through his neck. Blood was coughed out and dribbled all over the Ninja’s fukuman as the ronin wheezed and slumped over him.

The Night Fang pushed the dead ronin off and then pushed himself to his feet. He was back in the battle and his vision became ever clearer. He saw Ukita reunited with her family, yelling at them to run faster as they fled away from the fighting. He saw Amaya firing a sapphire arrow into the mouth of an oncoming ronin wielding a butcher’s blade, who swiftly croaked and slumped into the snow. He saw Takeda dance with a katana against two other attackers, bouncing and slashing his steel against theirs with a grace and beauty he had never seen in a duel before. Chaos struck Heartstring, and they were the

A war cry curtailed his wonder. The Night Fang saw a ronin charging towards him with a long protruding spear coated in the blood of some unknown assailant. The Night Fang flexed his katana, ostentatiously waving it in the wind. Before he could put it to use, three long curved and perfectly aligned blades burst through the front of the attacker’s chest. The bloody mess of the ronin dropped as Steel Lion dislodged his right tiger claw from the fallen ronin’s back. Takeda had been mistaken. Xerxes’ skills in combat had not gone to rust during his time at the temple.

He now understood the Thane’s clan appellation. Xerxes truly did move with the sudden sharpness and ferociousness of a lion. With the long tiger claws on each fist, he impaled them into the chest of an oncoming ronin. Each fingered blade pierced through the plated armour as if it were made from half-melted butter. Steel Lion kicked him off the hooks of his tiger claws and he slashed them into the last of the attacking ronin. With one swift stroke of his left hand, the ronin’s forearm went flying. The ronin cried in agony and rolled around the snow, a fountain of blood spraying from the wound and painting flecks of crimson blotches across the sea of white. Steel Lion turned his helm to Hideo. The steel snarling sabertoothed face nodded.

“Boy,” the Night Fang’s mark hissed from behind. Satake Akinobu stood alone with his katana drawn and shining in the winter sun. He pulled off his oni mask to reveal a haggard face with grey tips and streaks down his dark hair. The man was square-jawed. Hideo wondered if this was what Takeda would look like in twenty years. “You and your friends have committed treason,” the Stone Ronin Commander continued. “And what have you achieved? The Khan wants all of them and he has the throne’s power behind him. Why all the fruitless bloodshed?”

“Shut up and fight,” said the Night Fang, that frightened the man inside him with his words.

His mark did as the Night Fang bid. As their katana hissed and shrieked in the wind, he noticed that he was simply being observed by the others. Takeda and Amaya watched from the gallows and Xerxes crossed his arms as if he were back in Darkfall, judging Hideo in training.

Satake twirled and slashed his blade down in a diagonal motion. The Ninja deflected, spun behind the Ronin Commander, and grabbed onto his elbow, snapping it without a moment’s hesitation. The Ronin that had terrorised Heartstring for so long yelped and fell to his knees, cradling the protruding bone sticking out of his forearm. Before the suffering could be prolonged, the Night Fang unsheathed his curved dagger and struck it across his marks neck. The Ronin fell to the snow in silence.

As his fire started to cool, Hideo realised that he was breathing heavily. Frantically. He clutched his chest and dropped his dagger. It landed beside Satake’s body; the snow surrounding the fallen commander began to turn red. Hideo felt panic take over him. He began to sweat more than he had during the fight. They had saved the village. Then why do I feel so hideous?

Takeda waded his way through the snow and offered Hideo his hand. “You have ended your second mark. I must congratulate you.” As Hideo accepted the token of respect, Takeda slapped him around the cheek. “And now I must excoriate you. Did you ever consider that we might need to question him, regarding the claim that this was all on the Khan’s orders?”

“This one still lives,” Xerxes called from afar, his voice booming from his helm in sick glee. It was the ronin that he had maimed with his tiger claw. He was crawling across the snow, cradling the bloody stump where his right arm had once been. Steel Lion grabbed his leg and dragged the armless ronin across the snow, who was moaning in pain and pleading for mercy.

Xerxes sat the maimed man atop a tree stump and knelt so that his lion helm was snarling into his soul. “Do you want your wound covered before you bleed to death?” he asked.

The ronin nodded deliriously.

Steel Lion turned to the other Night Fangs and barked orders. “Turncoat, Craven Brother. Search the houses.”

As the two of them walked through the now-desolate village, Amaya raised her arm and stopped them in their tracks. She pointed her sapphire bow back towards the body of Satake Akinobu. The corpse was motionless; the blood surrounding it already drying and stained into the white flakes, morphing into red tentacles across the snowy canvas.

“What?” Hideo questioned her.

“I just wanted you to look at it,” she said with a smile.

They parted ways to search the homes independently for efficiency. All the surviving villagers had retreated. Either into what remained of their homes or hidden away under burned ruins or as far from blood and death as they could go. He found one home with its door still intact. Upon knocking, Ukita answered. She looked at the Ninja with sombre, watery eyes.

“Do you have any bandages?” the Night Fang asked, as if the recent events did not occur.

Without answering, she slammed the door on him. As Hideo was about to move on, she opened it again, a roll of white bandages grasped firmly in her hand.

“You have my thanks,” he said.

She went to close the door and-

“Ukita,” he found himself asking. “Did I do the right thing?”

She looked at him long and coldly. She had a face betwixt disgust and fear. Then more tears dribbled from her eyes. “I thank you for freeing my family,” she said, with the door half-closed. But it wasn’t gratitude Hideo was looking for. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Growing up with the stories, I thought the Night Fangs were heroes,” she continued. “The things you do are noble.”

Hideo nodded and turned to leave.

“But you do them without humanity,” she finished, as he was already a few steps away. She heard him close the door behind.

Amaya found bandages and a stash of elixirs inside Satake’s chambers. After burning his stump with hot irons, they hitched the maimed ronin on the back of Takeda’s horse.

Their captive had already passed out from the pain. It mattered not. They would question him further away from prying eyes. As they rode out of Heartstring, Takeda jested about making Hideo the new Thane after his bold stand against Akinobu.

Even Xerxes appeared to have unwound as he took the teasing in good stride for once and even shared a flask of ale with Amaya. Hideo’s mind was elsewhere. He was back in New Jade City with his sister in their cold and empty shack. Your path is to help people, not draw their blood.

They made camp by nightfall. It was a full moon. That night, Xerxes caught the jackalope.