Somewhere I Belong

[Tainted Bushido]

Closed to Lilith Kazumi.
Takes place after the Night of Debauchery.

To say it had been a long month, would be a dramatic understatement.

He had fought a one night war, and nearly come out the victor. Those who witnessed the atrocities of the night could easily say that the Ixian Knights had won, after all they were still together. The castle was slowly yet surely rebuilding and the recruits filled in the empty dorms as fast as anything. Life moved on, and with it a sense of purpose renewed the conviction of those left to the Ixian Knights.

Doubt however, still whispered in Taka's ear. He had fought hard, no one could fault him for his final failure, nor to whom he failed against. No one could have expected him to stand up against a godling and expect to survive, let alone fight them. His mind was clouded with the doubt of one who had yet to win anything. All of Taka's accomplishments had been born of dubious defeats. Even the fight that had revealed his malady was nothing more than a dragged out loss at the hands of his former lord. The Ronin had not one victory he could claim, for even the fight that cursed his blood, that saw him tainted was a hollow victory at best.

How then, was a General of the Ixian Knights supposed to lead men, when he was nothing but an utter failure? How was he to fight when his sense of purpose and duty were tarnished with repeated failure. Seppukku could not save him, for the Oni's blood within his very veins prevented an honorable death. He was truly cursed, unable to die and atone for his sins, and unable to succeed to wash them clean in victory. He had failed his sensei, Hoturi. He had failed Anita Orlouge who had been injured due to his incompetence. He had failed himself, in not growing strong enough to defeat even Shiryko Benimaru. Twice he had fought the hopeless samurai, and twice he had been killed. One death was even while in the arms of his charge, his blood staining her dress.

When he took leave of the Castle, Sei seemed to give him a knowing look. The Akashiman's mind was elsewhere. He was unable to focus at all, and even Hoturi had reprimanded the Samurai, who to the others had seemed the perfect student only weeks ago. Their private lessons had ended with Taka disarmed due to gross negligence. Hoturi had only frowned and thrown Taka out of his dojo, until he had reformed his will. Much like his original Katana, he felt broken, his soul unable to find succor in the stains of defeat. He could only hope a little time back at home, would show the Ronin the purpose to which he was to live. He could only dream that in this crazy quest to his homeland, he would find the willpower to grow, and redeem his lost honor.

Perhaps the deepest stain upon his honor was the death of the peasant Sachiko in the village he had protected. That victory rang most hollowly to the General. In the closing moments of battle, Akihiro a member of his former family, had taken the woman prisoner, a woman who had tried to comfort Taka despite his taint, despite his curse. She had asked for nothing more of him than his love and he had almost given it to her. He had instead stabbed his blade through the woman and killed his erstwhile cousin in the attack, and the death rang hollowly in the Ronin's mind, a new nightmare that plagued his nights and haunted his dreams. He had of course given due payment for the death of Sachiko, but it felt hollow to hand over a few gold coins, it cheapened the girl's life.

It was perhaps the closest thing to love Taka had experienced since Anita Orlouge, who had eventually let the whirlwind romance that had enfolded the two simmer to nothing more than the love of a family member. The Daughter of Sei Orlouge, Leader of the Ixian Knights, had fawned over the Ronin until that realization hit them. Since then he had not let another touch him, except for Anita Orlouge the night she was injured at the hands of the deepest betrayal the Ixian Knights had experienced. Varying levels of Betrayal had rung through the halls and when Anita needed Taka the most, he had failed to come to her aid. A blow to the already fragile pride of the Ronin, who was fast running out of sutures of which to mend his soul.

His sandals scraped across the dusty roads of his homeland, the sun shining brightly upon the man. His arms were bandaged up hiding the marks of his taint, and his face was hidden behind a mask. His neck was similarly bandaged, giving the illusion of a grievous injury, or a burned man. Either way, he was left alone by the peasantry who gave him a curious look, under his dingy brown robes. he was surprised that he still had the old Kimono he had entered the Service of the Ixian Knights in, but he used it now as he went upon his Mushi Shugyo, a pilgrimage of the sword. Until he reached the epiphany that would see him become the Dark Blade that Sei wished him to be, he could not look the Mystic in the face.

The Second is a man of the blade. His heart is tainted, but shall be cleansed by the virtues he performs. He shall be the most ruthless of the Nine. He is a masterless wanderer whose eyes bear the mark of a thousand restless nights.

The words of the Prophecy burned into his mind, the very prophecy that marked him as one of Nine Generals who would bring peace and prosperity to the world. It was the only reason he was not dismissed from duty, because it was believed he could do the job. He didn’t know what he believed anymore, but he was certain as he moved along the roadways towards the capital city it had not implied he would be defeated so soundly. Even in his ruthlessness he had found the bitter sting of Defeat, a victory that hardly felt as such.

He raised his eyes to the city and let a soft sigh escape his lips, hidden behind his mask. He then shook his head slowly and continued to move his way deeper into the heart of his homeland. If he could not figure his place in the cosmic order, he would certainly perish when the enemy figured out how to kill him once and for all.

[Lillith]

Set after Flower Drum Song.

Yanbo Harbour was, for now, safe.

Yanbo Harbour was, for now, in ruins.

Lillith surveyed the devastation that the Greater Oni had caused with dismay, a soft breeze kicking her hair to life, and a strong sense of duty swelling in her chest. Though it had been a successful endeavour, and the Crab bound once more, the geisha was struggling to find happiness in the moment. People had died, houses crumbled, and the economy of Yanbo gutted as a cost for that victory.

“This is no good, Lillith-sama,” Neko despaired, his feline nose twitching shrewdly, and his tail whipping back and forth atop a splintered roof support. They were standing in the middle of what, only yesterday, had been the grandest teahouse in the city. No cups would tinker together here for a long time.

“It is a price we have to pay, accept, and live with, Neko-chan.” Despite their earlier abandonment of formality during their confrontation with the Crab, whilst natives surrounded them, they returned to the Old Ways like ducks to water. “Do you think Yanbo would have survived, if we had not fought so valiantly?” she asked.

The Nekojin shook his head.

The avenue in front of the teahouse littered with rubble, red planks, and smouldering paper walls. The polished stone beneath was obscured by the devastation, and people skitter leaped back and forth in between chunks of building and still corpses. Lillith picked out several familiar looking faces, and chalked them a silent prayer with her dry tongue. There would be time, much later, to bury and honour the dead; for now, they had to aid the recovery process.

“Okay, let us,” she stepped down from her boulder, her geta clicking against the porch of the ruin, but then she stopped. Her legs went taught, her eyes narrowed, and her heart stopped. Somebody, in the distance, sparked a memory she did not wish to rekindle. “Good lord…” she mouthed. Neko bounced down to her side, head nodding side to side, claws scrapping nervously through the dirt.

“What is it, Lillith-sama?”

She pointed towards the stranger walking up the thoroughfare in the distance. Her finger was shaking, which Neko thought odd. The sun beat down over the city, and the faint rattle of grief stricken toms occasionally picked up and mingled with the word. A new sound joined the cacophony of the humdrum crowds. It was the sound of potential, danger, and old reunion. Neko knew it well.

“Who is he?” he added, aware that in Lillith’s shock, she had forgotten quite how to speak.

“It’s…” she began, but dropped into silence as she shuffled forwards, dropped her hand to her side, and furrowed her brow. “It’s Taka.” Though he hid his face, his robes were flowing and his bandages tight, the pale; porcelain mask was immestakible that of the Ixian Knight called the Dark Blade. “Though the more pertinent question is not whom, but why?” she took several steps forwards, but paused hesitantly.

“Why?”

“Why is he here?” she whispered. The cold breeze that ran up the road from the sea caressed Lillith’s tired, muddied, and bruised skin, affording her a moment of clarity and alertness she had not felt in three days. Lillith ran a single finger down her throat, caressing her chest bone and stopping at the top of her tunic. The deep shadow in her heart pulsated up her hand, and reminded her that she was very much like the lone Ronin that advanced towards them.

“Shall we ask him, then?” Neko chuckled. His naiveté was belittling to Lillith, but she could not fault her companion for his lack of understanding. She looked across her shoulder with a condescending smile.

“<Look closer, Neko-chan>,” she said in Akashiman, a firm, formal dialect that indicated authority. She turned back to the slowly growing shape of the Ronin, his white mask becoming more and more visible with every sombre step. There was no doubt in her mind now that this chance meeting was not as coincidental as she might have hoped. She could see a kinship in him now, at least, one that had developed since they had last crossed paths.

Neko drew a kanji in the air with his right thumb, telling of his indecision, and clicked his fingers to give it life. It shone green for a few precious seconds before it vanished. With its power, Taka burst into colour. From out of his chest, a deep purple aura emerged, and swirling in its midst, aqua ribbons. The nekojin knew all too well, what the mist indicated. The more pertinent question in Neko’s mind now, was what possessed the swordsman.

“That is…strange,” he mused.

“Taka is possessed by an oni, I am sure you gathered that much. It is not a possession quite as strong as the Jurugumo in my heart, or the Komodo in Arden’s soul, but all the same, it is a sign that we are…” she sighed, “alike.”

“He needs help, Lillith-sama!” Neko bounced on his haunches, excited, yet frustrated by the distance between salvation and inactivity. Several passers-by stopped mid stride, cautious around the battle-worn veterans that had saved their lives. Many simply nodded politely, and continued about the business. Akashima was a country of tradition, and though walking into the light of freedom, today was not a designated day to celebrate. Neko was a verdant bundle of enthusiasm, and in the short time they had become acquainted, he had shown incredible dedication to cleansing Akashima of the Oni taint.

“It will not be as easy as that, Neko. A man as powerful as Taka needs to want to change, in order for us to have any remote chance of removing the torment from his soul.” Sometimes, the Oni died through simple volition, determination, and ritual. When it was bound to the person’s emotions, his driving force, and his weakness, it required a more vigilant approach.

She took a deep breath and ventured out in the rubble-strewn street. It curved slightly around a far shell of a kite shop, until it connected with the main thoroughfare through Yanbo’s market. When the Crab had emerged from the ocean, it had carved a half-moon of chaos into the heart of the city, stopping in the merchant district, just before it has to tear through the densely populated shacks and temples of the outer limits. People were moving between the ruins and their homes, gathering what supplies they could from the desperate shopkeepers peddling their wares from the back of carts – it would perhaps be weeks, months, or longer still before normal day-to-day life resumed here.

“Be careful, Neko-chan, though he was once an ally, times have been turbulent in Corone’s political circles.” She said over her shoulder. She advanced with a swagger in her hips and a tanto gripped in her right hand. He held it in a reverse grip, and mostly out of sight, though she doubted its presence would be lost on the hardened veteran. Neko bounded after her, buoyant, happy, and excited to meet another of the so-called Nine. The smell of cherry blossoms, jasmine, and burnt flesh filled the air in their wake.

[Tainted Bushido]

Taka moved through Yanbo port, his one time home. He had been traveling through Akashima for more than a week. The problem came in that it was hardly like he recognized. Buildings had been smashed, people had been hurt or killed, it all amounted to a drastic change of Yanbo Port. It was a change that mirrored the turmoil in his soul as he looked about hardly recognizing the city he had grown up in. His eyes moved fitfully from behind the mask, showing him more scenes of violence and carnage, to the point he wasn't even sure he had entered his hometown, surely this was Jigoku, his own private hell.

In this carnage, it would be all too simple for the annoyances of the past to be erased. Surely the guards were too busy to notice another missing peasant or two...

The thoughts slipped into his mind, the oily residue reinforcing from where they came. It was hard to get a firm grip on them, as they raced about his brain, but he managed and in doing so subdued the urges that came unbidden. The Oni in his blood had made a subtle play, a small push towards darkness, a push he refused to indulge. It was one thing when he was fighting the rapists and serial killers of the Cult of Blessed Torture. It was quite another when his targets were the very people he had strived to protect. It was enough to annoy the Ronin, even as he heard the footsteps.

They were soft, almost easy to miss in the sounds of reconstruction. They were sure, and belied a fierce warrior's pride. It set the one-time samurai on edge as he heard them, but he continued walking, with his mask and bandages even a port guard could not recognize the Ronin. He merely moved along, one more passerby in the hundreds that moved through the city. It was then he heard the steps shift and move, heading right for him. It was then he knew he had been spotted, though what person knew of his condition, and further how he chose to disguise it was a narrow list.

Eyes looked about before he saw a young woman approach him. Shoulders tensed, preparing to strike as he subtly shifted his posture hand going for katana before he had fully drank in the visage of Lillith Kazumi. An enigma wrapped in mystery the young Akashiman woman of the Tantalus was a paradox. On the one hand, she was very much the geisha, on the other hand she was part of Duffy Bracken's thieving band of actors. A duality that was not lost upon the Ronin when he spied the tanto in her hand. He never spoke only inclined his head softly, his hand hovering near hilt as he waited for her to speak.

He didn't wait long as he words held a slightly accusatory tone to them, "What are you doing here Taka?"

He could almost appreciate the straight forwardness of the actor even as his voice came out soft and low, "<I am here for myself, no act of Orlouge Dono...>" His response was in crisp Akashiman, forcing her to either carry on the conversation in Akashiman or juggle handling two languages at the same time. He thought he detected a slight pulse of irritation in the woman's ki, a subtle shift told him as much might be true, though this was an actor. The act could extend fully to eclipse all senses. Where as Taka's ki was likened to be thrown in the waves of the ocean to drown, Lillith's was subtler. It wrapped about the body in a swaddling cloth, while hiding the depths within it. Taka was fairly certain that she was a stronger warrior than she let on to the Ixian Knights, though how much she had lied remained to be seen. She still remained wary of his hand, seeming to study it with the curiosity of a fellow warrior. An eyebrow raised at the Ronin's standoffish nature before she shot back to him.

"If that is true, why come here?" The conversation continued in Tradespeak. It seemed she had no trouble juggling the languages, a note he filed away for later. She either had no grasp of speaking Akashiman, but could understand it, or she didn't wish to speak it herself. Taka on the other hand had no patience for even his own ploy. He could speak Tradespeak, and he could speak Akashiman, but he had trouble keeping up with both.

Dropping his first line of defense to the woman he let a tone of irritation touch his voice as he continued, "Much has happened in the past week. Ixian Castle was attacked, and many perished that night. It was a brutal encounter, and I sought some semblance of order..."

"Of Arden?" The words came quickly, blurted out before the woman could even fully grasp what she was saying. Taka was happy for the mask that hid his true expression as he managed to keep his voice devoid of the tension he could feel rising in his body.

"Arden fell, but was found later with his blade in his chest. We do not know why, but he seems to have made a full recovery," Taka answered. Giving her the information cost him nothing, and further could lighten the severity of the moment. This was a time for healing and reassurance, not one to tear each other's throats out. The Tanto twirled with an idle grace and landed in a sheath on her hips as she looked upon the Ronin for a moment. It was then she seemed to recognize the full statement he made early.

"You still haven't answered why are you here. I need something to work with," Lillith challenged.

Taka let his shoulders slump, showing himself unprepared for battle as he looked upon Lillith and spoke plainly, "I was born here. Is it too much to believe a tired Ronin comes home once in awhile to remember halcyon days gone by?"

"Which family?" Lillith asked.

"Of all questions, you should know better than to ask what family a Ronin dishonored..." Taka replied his teeth gritting behind his mask. he tensed again in a fit of righteous anger, but refrained from speaking more upon the situation. Lillith raised a hand in palacation before she nodded.

"Many apologies Ronin, I forgot the old ways," The geisha then gestured about her. "As you can see much has happened, perhaps if we stopped in an inn we could trade stories of what occurred, and get a full understanding of where upon the road we have met?"

Taka looked upon the geisha with an appraising eye before his hand returned to his side, no longer threatening the woman even in passing. He nodded softly before he spoke, "Perhaps that would be for the best. Lead on Kazumi-san."

[Lillith]

“I know just the place, Taka-chan!” Neko bounced, far too enthusiastic to hear humdrum news of darker times amongst old friends. Lillith rolled her eyes, wishing her friend’s otherwise friendly nature would keep itself to itself.

“Forgive my companion, despite felling a Greater Oni, and nearly being guillotined several times in the last few days, the spirit of his people is unwavering.” She glared into his cat like eyes, and after an awkward silence, they both burst out into a chuckle. It felt spoilt only by the doubt in Lillith’s mind about Taka’s demeanour, motives, and presence here in Yanbo.

It could not be purely down to circumstance.

“Is it wrong to be happy, Lillith-sama?” Neko wrinkled his noise, which glittered in the sunlight with moisture.

“It is wrong to be happy whilst sober, Neko-chan,” she chuckled light heartedly. Without further ado, she trailed off on delicate footfalls towards the west, where Yanbo came to life and the ruin began to fade away.

When the Crab had emerged from the idyllic waters of the harbour, it had begun a rampage in a half moon area immediately around the shattered jetties. It did not take Lillith long to guide Taka and Neko away from the devastation, and soon, the shattered temple spires, broken households, and crumbling warehouses became cluttered market streets, rickshaw stations, and heaving food stands and restaurants. The life on the faces of Yanbo’s citizens became more visible, as the people who had lost their homes, business, and those who still had everything to live for replaced livelihoods.

“Whilst it might sound cruel and callous, Taka, whilst I lament the destruction of Akashima to any extent,” she waved a hand to the horizon, where a tall corner building loomed. “I am very grateful that Uncle Sei’s Teahouse remains standing.” The Ronin cocked his head curiously.

“Uncle Sei?”

Lillith chuckled, “No, no, not that Sei. Uncle Sei is a distant relation to one of my former lives. He owns a Teahouse in the cliff racer peaks on the foot of the Comb Mountains, this one, and a small holding in Capitol City that serves exquisite orange and cocoa infusions; some quite intoxicating.” The quiver in her voice spoke of her personal experiences with the luxurious drinks on offer. From Taka’s humble response, a low nod of his masked visage, Lillith assumed this would suffice as their place of recuperation.

Her geta clicked against the clean stone as the road broke into a circular courtyard. Neko’s paws padded softly behind her, followed by Taka’s stoic advance through the modest bedlam of Yanbo. Though she made no show of the turbulent emotions spiralling about in her chest, she was deep in thought about the events mentioned by the Ronin. When she had departed the countryside of Corone last, Duffy had spoken of a grand and intricate plot. Arden had remained behind in the castle, to orchestra whatever strange meanderings the bard had put into motion. She had been worried, but not because he might die, but because he might lose his physical form. She herself had been victim of trying to gain advantage in Akashima with the visage of a foreigner.

They were difficult times indeed.

“We will find ourselves put up for the night,” she curled her lip and set her hair perfectly behind her ears, “wherever or not we wish to stay.” Uncle Sei, it seemed, had not forgotten the old ways. She pointed to the front porch, a sheltered expanse littered with low tables, half-drunk but civil patrons, and low hanging lanterns bedecked with floral insignia. “We can sit outside, or find a booth in the interior.” She quickened her pace and clipped up the polished marble stairs. She twirled, “whichever you prefer Taka-chan?”

Several patrons clattered out of the red panelled swing doors, boisterous, happy, and content. Long moustaches, straw hats, and kimonos bundled down the steps in a tsunami of mismatched culture. Several were sailors, others meiko, eager to please, and the final member of the motley crew was an off duty guard. People, it seemed, were ready to forget that the Crab had ever dared to wake from its tomb. Lillith sighed.

“We could go to the Spider Temple instead, Lillith-san?” Neko stopped to crouch, scratch his head, and twitch his nose again as if he could not survive without it. The tone in his voice suggested he was not comfortable with crowds, drinking, or for that matter, humans outright.

“No, Neko, we are here, and Taka would no doubt be quite happy with some of the spiced sake,” she looked at the Ronin with an endearing smile, checked her tanto were secure, and ventured up the steps. “Besides, I think it’s about time we celebrated our success, don’t you?” her words fell into nothingness in the wake of the saloon doors as they swung back and forth behind a press of her hand against the worn wood.

[Tainted Bushido]

"I would prefer somewhere private. I cannot enjoy the company you would request of me without removing my mask..." Taka's reply was soft, only the Nekojin with them as well as Lillith heard the words at all, and the geisha nodded once, bringing them upstairs to the balcony. The tavern was a veritable riot of culture and color, and as one of the few still in good repair this also meant it was one of the busiest. Still Lillith moved about as if she owned the place and with a few words they were taken around the corner of the building to the far end of the balcony. A curtain was drawn across the way, marking a private meeting and the servant was gone.

The small alcove of the balcony housed a low table as much of Akashima had, as well as several pillows for seating. The table itself was a solid oak, while the softer tone of the cedar beneath their feet only lightly echoed their footsteps. The ronin nodded at the privacy they were afforded and moved to sit at the table seeking a spot against the wall of the tavern where he could not be spied from the streets.

It was then that he removed his mask. The porcelain was laid beside him with a gentle reverence, even as a breeze from the ocean washed over his form, offering him a bit of cool succor from the warm attire he was forced to don. His eyes closed as a nostalgic smile briefly crossed his face, smelling the salt of the ocean upon the breeze before with a shake of his head he looked upon the Nekojin and Lillith. His face was free of the disguise showing the slash of darkness across his face that encompassed one eye, turning it a milky white.

The Nekojin made a rather disgusted face at the sight, but Taka took the subtle insult in stride. There was no denying the Nekojin had a right to his disgust. Taka was tainted and with that small fact was marked for death by the very people he walked amongst. His eyes settled on Lillith before he lowered his gaze in a pensive thought and spoke, "I suppose I should tell you what has occurred first as it is hardly happy news..."

"I would appreciate it Taka-dono," Lillith replied. The honorific came without any sense of hesitation, and Taka knew why. While the old ways were still growing on them, there were certain forms of etiquette burned into a child of Akashima. The honorifics were the ones more brutally enforced, as they were a means of insult and utilizing the wrong one would surely get a person killed.

"It began with the reports of screams and fire from the nearby village. I was told of them shortly after sundown when I usually do my nightly meditation," Taka began shifting to get comfortable on the pillow. It didn't take very long as the pillows were well maintained, "I told my men to go investigate and that I would report the development to Orlouge-dono. I thought nothing of it, but apparently that was the intent. Forces were diverted to the village, where they found the so called 'Cult of Blessed Torture' doing as they please with the villagers."

"While the village was being taken care of, spiders attacked the walls of Ixian Castle. The result of which was that they were very nearly overwhelmed. The house guard was meanwhile in the armory as I have been told, attempting to get heavier armor and pole arms to combat the monsters," Taka explained.

"Why would they do something like that? They should have reinforced the walls immediately!" Lillith replied as she frowned at the ronin. The Nekojin looked between the two of them as the Dark Blade closed his eyes pondering much that question before the servant arrived, setting a pot of tea upon the table for them along with the cups from which to drink. If they noticed his signs of taint, they wisely kept quiet as the servant disappeared behind the curtain.

"It appears there were many way that the cult was attacking us. We were attacked from without and within," Taka said firmly. Tea poured he sipped it quietly letting the words sink in before he continued, "The cult flooded in through the gates with a tortured giant when the walls couldn't hold them off, and began to spread their despicable behavior to anyone they could get a hold of."

"A spider almost as large as this tavern attacked, and after some effort tore through the wall to the medical ward where Tsukai-dono was attempting to handle to incoming wave of wounded. We were attacked on all sides it seemed, and it was all we could do to stay afloat in the sea of madness that had engulfed us," Taka explained. He then looked at Lillith for a second and closed his eyes, sipping his tea, "I was at that time protecting Anita-chan from the worst the cult could throw at us."

"Why would they even attack?" The Nekojin asked his head tilted at the ronin. His eyes held a curiosity and confusion that Taka knew would need to be sated.

"It appears that that night, was the vengeful blow of one person who the Ixian Knights had apparently wronged," Taka explained.

Lillith frowned before she remembered the words spoken, "You said they were the Cult of Blessed Torture?" Taka nodded softly before she hissed in distaste, "Remi..."

"Her desire to make us pay included much more than merely burning, murdering, and raping those dearest to us. One of the generals opened the gates to the tunnels beneath Ixian Castle, and let her in himself. I know only of a few men who were strong enough to do so, and even less that could destroy the gates in the process," Taka said dourly, he sipped his tea through clenched teeth. The concept of a traitor was anathema to everything the ronin was. It rose the bile from his throat to merely speak of the act, let alone know it had transpired.

His shoulders slumped before he spoke softly, "She came for Anita-chan, and I failed her. We fought, and it was as if I was merely a child with a wooden sword. All I managed was to cut her once, across her back. Even then the blow was not lethal, and she shrugged it off as if it were not even there..." The ronin stopped and sipped more tea, feeling the melancholy that brought him to Akashima, "She beat me into unconsciousness after my blow. Apparently I ruined the fun she was having. When I awoke the night had ended, but much more had happened. She fought Orlouge-dono, and apparently beat him enough to get one of the items the gods themselves gifted him. Even Seth-san was beaten that night, between the combined efforts of Remi and Arcus..."

"I find it hard to believe that Cassandra Remi defeated the Dark Blade, the Lavinian Demon, and the Hero of Radasanth in a single night. Jensen was more than Remi could handle and we all know she's a vulture, not a fighter..." Lillith replied bitterly.

"Had I not been one of the victims, I would not have believed it myself..." Taka replied with a sigh setting his cup upon the wooden table. He then lookd out over the city and said softly, "Please Lillith-sama, tell me what has happened to my home."

[Lillith]

“Yanbo,” Lillith began, before the realisation dawned on her that this would not be easy news to impart. The harbour, from what little she had learnt about Taka in her tenure at the castle, had been the man’s home before his exile. It had been his family’s home, before the shame of emancipation, of becoming a thing named only as a Ronin, had sundered its good name. “Yanbo was attacked a few days ago by a creature of legend.”

“The Crab,” Neko interrupted excitedly, forgetting his manners in favour of his enthusiasm and faith.

“Rose,” Lillith continued, regaining control of the conversation with a bridling snap of her tongue. “Our story must briefly go elsewhere, though. About six months ago, we received word of men lured to their doom in the caverns beneath Tokyun village, a small fishing conclave in the Comb Mountain forests. Our party comprised of Arden, Ruby, and I. We ventured into the wilds. We discovered something there I had not expected to encounter again.” Her lips pursed. She was not sure if she paused because the worry about Arden was unresolved, or because she was being careful about how to speak to Taka. She was certain she had already been uncouth with her titles, pronunciation, and her observance of Akashiman culture already. “We found The Jurugumo.”

Taka’s eyes widened.

“Do not look so surprised, I am sure even you know the legends. Just because the government deems it inappropriate, unholy, and unjust to speak of them does not mean they do not exist.” Lillith’s grasp of the situation began to increase in firmness. She glared at Neko whenever he made a face at the contortion and disfigurement of the swordsman, and put the creature’s unease to rest with the occasional nod of approval when he composed himself.

“True enough,” Taka concluded, “go on?” he sipped from his cup.

The sound of the teahouse rose around them, swarming the booth with welcoming accompaniments. Cups clattering, laughter rising, and people chattering formed a backdrop for their mutual exchange of culinary woe. Lillith adjusted her form atop her pile of cushions, and adjusted her neckline. “We sealed the Jurugumo, defeating it in combat, but at a cost.” When she pushed herself upright during her final movement, she slipped one of the four red-handled tanto on her waist from its scabbard, and set it onto the low square table as she returned her buttocks to the plush.

The heavy clunk of the metal on the varnished surface deadpanned the mood of discovery in the booth. Neko, well used to the sight of the Fangs of the Oni rolled his creatural eyes, sipped his tea with uneasy paws, and waited. The blade of the weapon was polished steel, but in the candlelight and seclusion of their private chamber, the hilt glowed deep purple, and the spider symbol on its flat edge hummed with malice.

“I drew its soul into my body, and sealed away its power in this blade.” Lillith had no doubt that Taka would have many more questions about just how she had achieved such a feat. Now was neither the time nor place. One day she promised to tell him. “After that, I regained the memories of a past life.” She reflected pensively back through time to when she had been a Kazumi proper, and lived amongst the spirit warder tribes of the Comb Mountains. Before the exile of the Samurai, her people had been priests, scholars, and well respected members of Akashiman society.

“After the Jurugumo, I felt drawn to Capitol City. Arden and I travelled here via Hallow, a village on the coast, and encountered oni in service of another of the Greater Spirits.” She reflected back on the trials and tribulations of Saiketsu, the month of blood. “Our doubts about what was to come were answered in that village, and we made for the city to prevent the Komodo’s’ rise as quickly as we could.” Whilst it was true that the siblings had succeeded in their efforts, Lillith had not seen Arden much since, and she had no idea if he had been successful in defeating the creature before war broke out across her home.

“There were four…” Taka mused. His milky eye pierced Lillith’s vulnerable form; its haunting appearance gave the man considerable power, a strange charisma, and a venerable status in the eyes of the assassin. Neko, oblivious to the samurai way, or to the Ixian Knights, remained complacent. “They were called the Jurugumo, the Crab, the Komodo, and the Crane.” The recital of their common tongue names from the Ronin’s lips seemed wrong to Lillith.

“As my memory returned, I began to feel weak whenever I neared an oni. When the Crab began to awaken from its tomb in the trench, I knew I had to come to Yanbo’s defence. Arden did not answer my call, not did the government. I realise now that my brother was absent and,” she paused for thought, “was otherwise engaged.” She set her cup down with cupped palms, and examined the platter of sweet rice treats that had been set on the table for the amusement of the teahouse’s guest. On her last visit, she had regretted eating the daisy shaped desert, so she settled for the squared sushi with sweetened coconut sauce.

“We arrived in time for the Crab to still be beneath the waves,” Neko continued whilst his companion chewed her food noisily. “Two joined us, compatriots of the Ixian Knights,” he shrugged, uncertain as to whom exactly their accomplices were still to this day, “Dorian and William.”

Taka shook. His fist slammed down onto the table.

“Taka?” she proclaimed, throwing caution to the wind with her correct titles. She did not think he would mind, given his outburst. “What on earth is the matter?” her moist lip, bespeckled with rice, dropped wide.

“Do not mention that creature’s name…” he slurred, and Lillith could only assume the swordsman was referring to William, and not to the docile, but earnest Dorian Sesthal. “He is…nameless.”

Lillith, erring on the side of caution, decided to drop the matter. “The Crab, unfortunately, was too strong for us to defeat before it made landfall. It rose out of the sea like a forgotten enemy, and destroyed a great swathe of Yanbo in a half-moon around the central harbour.” She depicted a space on the table with a single digit, and then sighed. “I am sorry, Taka. We were able to prevent it from reaching the temple, but it must have levelled your family’s home…” her sentence trailed off in favour of reverence, silence, and sorrow. Her mind felt occupied during their battle with defeating the creature to give any heed to the people who would lose everything in its wake.

The assassin decided to leave her story there, swooning as she was in the duel revelations of her brother’s fate, and the fate of Taka’s former residence. From the look of sorrow, hatred, and self-loathing on the man’s face, she half made a motion to order something considerably stronger than spiced sake.

“I am really sorry…” she re-iterated, the scent of tealeaf, rice, and devastation thick in her nostrils.

[Tainted Bushido]

Silence reigned at the table.

Taka had become a statue, holding his cup as he stared into the tea, reigning in his emotions. He was a samurai, he was an Akashiman. Emotion had no place in public, he had a room to empty his heart of despair and grief. If it were not for the years of learning to curb his emotions he could not have managed the stoic mask he wore as he heard the tale. His ancestral house, lay in ruins. No longer could he spy the sakura blossoms of the tree that stood near the entryway of his home. No longer could he smell the familiar incense his family would use at their shrine to the ancestors, always lit and kept going through the day as everyone would enter at various points during the day to pray to fallen members of the Benjiro family.

His home of course was close to the harbor, it was what made the scent of the sea calming to him. It reminded him of days gone by, days before his exile into the lands and subsequent recruitment into the Ixian Knights. A simpler time, it was a nostalgia he no longer had. He could not look into the courtyard of his family and see the phantoms of the past before him. A hand moved to the mask and heavily landed on it causing it to clatter noisily against the wood even as a peal of laughter broke through the curtain that walled them off.

It took him less than a minute to wear it once more, when the last of his control let the former mask dissolve into a frown of frustration. He could feel the eyes of his two hosts before he carefully drained his tea cup. He then carefully set it upside down and rested a spoon upon it, notifying the staff he was done. A small bag of gold sat next to the table as he quietly rose, not trusting his voice to keep the wavering tone of melancholy from sneaking in. It was then Lilith spoke up, "Taka, what are you doing?"

"Going to my home. I need to know if they are safe. Even if they have forgotten me, the reverse is not true..." Taka replied firmly. The words were a growl giving them a tone of anger as his hands tensed into firm fists. Before the Neko could even stand Taka was walking down the balcony his right hand pushing aside the curtain with violent force. The rings that held it upon the wood used in holding it up rattled as they slammed into the wall.

He didn't even stop.

He was sure they would scramble after the ronin, and for that he didn't care. They had protected his city and on a rational level he was grateful for that small favor. He was not however, grateful that his home had been destroyed in the process, even if that place had not been his home in over two years. He reigned in his anger towards the geisha, his own self loathing in not being present to fight back against the Oni taking the forefront. He would have fought Enma-o herself to protect the buildings that had served the Benjiro family since the creation of Yanbo Port, and he would have given the God of Death a mess of trouble in accomplishing it. To know he could do nothing for the fate of his family was a scary prospect.

His footsteps carried him through Yanbo with a determined gate, ignoring those around him. His hand rested on the daisho on his hip only as a means of preventing it from slipping from its place. To anyone looking Taka was only a hairs breadth from running as he moved to the place he had at once lived. He could feel Rengoku lighten its burden upon him, giving him less to worry about as he began rushing through the city. His eyes never diverted more than a few degrees in any direction, watching for potential hazards on the path before he came to a rest outside the walls of the Benjiro estate. What greeted him was worse than the blow of knowing his home had been in the path of destruction.

No one was there.

Not even a servant moved through the wreckage of the house as he moved through the gate, the iron that had created it laying on the ground. He could see rust had formed on it, and had he seen a servant he would have hurt them for the indignation. These gates were maintained almost as diligently as the daisho of a samurai. A sign of the family's unwavering duty to maintain the land they had been granted by Lord Asakari. Iron was notorious for how easily it rusted and the amount of rust denoted months of inactivity. He crouched looking upon the gate his eyes unable to comprehend the action. His father would have killed the servants for being so lazy long before this amount of rust had gathered on the gate.

He had seen a servant beaten when his father had noticed the iron begin to grow orange.

His eyes rose to the torii that marked the path to the ancestral shrine. He scrambled forward looking upon the shattered arch, the wood scattered about the courtyard as he saw the damage done. A hand rested on the broken stump of a support beam, and what he saw before him kindled the rage in his heart into a full blown inferno. His eyes widened as he saw blackened stains upon the stones leading from the shrine, smudges that had never moved from their resting place, being sheltered by the shrine itself and the walls about the estate.

Someone had strewn the ashes of his ancestors across the walkway. He slumped to his knees at the obvious desecration as he hunched forward on his hands, unable to take any more of the information that had begun to process itself through his brain. His family had not been here for a long time before attack. The shrine itself remained standing even as the house beside it was a tattered wreck of his former glory. He heard footsteps stop behind him and he closed his eyes, pulling the leash upon his rage taut as he spoke, for the first time, of the family he had been forced to abandon;

"<Every morning, with my father, I would come to the shrine and pray to the ancestors for their blessings and guidance. I would light the incense and begin the prayers, by the time we were done I was allowed breakfast. I would pray, that one day I would live up to the Benjiro name, and show the world I was a true hero...>"

A bitter laugh left his lips before he picked himself up, "<To know that those who hunt me are the last of the Benjiro, is too ugly a truth to discover like this...>"

It was then he felt a different presence from the others he had felt in Akashima. So lost in his sorrow was he, that he had failed to notice someone else had happened upon the ronin. The feeling of their ki was similar if not exactly like Taka's own. A plunging of one into the ocean to drown in the dark waves of energy pulsing through the area. He had not been talking to the quiet dark energy of Lillith, nor the excitable tempest that marked the presence of the Nekojin. In one smooth action the Katana was pulled from its saya and Taka whirled, bringing the tip of the blade to rest against a slender throat. A gasp of surprise left the mouth of his opponent, who was dressed in the simple garb of a peasant.

Taka locked eyes with the enemy who had snuck up on him before he hissed softly, "<You are a phantom of the past. You cannot be here!>"

Black hair fell about the thin youthful face in cascades. Her brown eyes warm and caring as she remained still. Her skin was pale and from what the ronin remembered soft, softer than any he had known. She wore a simple kimono of brown, a common color chosen by peasants to make sure not to offend a lord by inadvertently wearing a color they used. The drab cloth covered most of her form, as her arms remained locked rigidly at her sides. She closed her eyes as she willed down the fear he could see in her face before she replied, "<Would you stab me in the heart again, Samurai-sama?>"

The ronin's face crumpled behind the mask at the obvious reference to Sachiko. He held his sword, which trembled only once in response to the words, words that even then struck a blow to the ronin's heart. He spoke firmly, trying to hide the guilt and grief that lurked behind every word, "<You cannot be her...she died. Be gone phantom and trouble me no more!>"

Carefully, the woman took a step back. The sword remained unwavering in Taka's grip as he looked upon the woman who turned her back to the ronin and carefully shrugged the kimono from her shoulders. While cloth wrapped tightly about her chest for an additional act of modesty, there was no mistaking the wound that stretched out, just under the bandages. It was no more than two inches wide, and the mark rested firmly between her third and fourth rib. A spot Taka was intimately familiar with, he had placed Rengoku there to stab through the heart of the peasant girl, and his treacherous cousin Akihiro.

The katana fell to the ground with the revelation, through no act of the soul inside. Taka fell once more to his knees as the kimono was shrugged back into place. The woman looked about furtively before she carefully cradled Taka's head against her chest, comforting the Dark Blade as he finally began to fall apart. His words were tight, forced, and held this with grief and confusion, "<But why? Why?>"

"<Do you remember the final parts of the fight, just before my capture?>"

He knew them all to well, "<Akihiro had cut my arm through my Kimono sleeve, so I ripped it off to prevent it from distracting me. During that moment he struck at me, and you alerted me. My reaction tipped him off to our feelings, and I reacted to try and stop him. He grabbed and threatened you, before I...I...>" He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence.

"<The blood, the blood you bear was upon your blade. That day our blood mingled, even if only a few drops...>" Sachiko answered.

"<Guardians no...>"

"<That day, I was Tainted...>"

[Lillith]

Though Lillith had twirled in a blaze of tension upon Taka’s unsheathing of his blade, she could only stand, intrigued, and without motion in a manner befitting a confused woman. She was a mere bystander in what appeared to be an old, bitter, and hateful reunion. Neko held similar reservations about defending Taka’s honour, and he encroached on Lillith’s left hand side with furtive twitches of his elongated whiskers, and flexes of his dextrous hands. She had not heard their assailants advance into their position either, and the silence with which the girl moved irked her greatly.

“<Taka-san, do you know this woman?” she said softly, finally able to overcome the dumbfounded expression on her face, and the stones tied to her shoes. Without making any sudden movements that might jeopardise their safety, she slowly took a firm hold of the hilt of The Jurugumo which rested on her right hip, tucked behind her obi, and visualised the purple aura it had when drawn in jealousy and anger.

“<Yes, but not as much as I once did,>” he replied, wistfully staring at his discarded blade. There was silence in his voice that Lillith found disheartening. She had witnessed such resolve in the Ronin in their previous encounters, that to see him so readily undone by his past threw her perceptions to the wolves.

It took Lillith a few moments of calm biding of her time before she recognised the group that that pursued them. She had encountered them a few weeks ago in the southern shale slops of the Comb Mountains. They had been hunting tainted, Ronin, and those sundered spirits who threw their allegiance to the winds, as opposed to the Kami or the Oni. She snarled.

“<Trust her not, Ronin>,” she quipped. She made less of a show of hiding her tanto in its sheath, and revealed it in a drawing that was as quick as lightning. The Oni’s Fang cut through the air, and left in its wake a purple cross of searing light. It crackled, hissed, and withered the world. With her snarl, came a sense of foolishness. In the triumph of the Ixian Knight’s victory over The Crab, the assassin had grown complacent, reckless, and idiotic. They had come to Yanbo to search for devilry, and her aura, and Taka’s, painted them as the greatest devils in the harbour.

“Lillith?” he reverted to trade speak, Lillith assumed, to conceal his concern from the group. Zealot deeds and lofty ideals often purveyed a sense of nationalism in its victims, a nationalism that would afford them communication only through Akashiman.

“They are hunters, Taka, pursuing those they feel responsible for what happened here.” Neko nodded in agreement.

"They are called the Ryoushi Akki," Neko spat.

The spirit warders often clashed with vigilante groups of rogue warriors who viewed the government as a weak, lacklustre organisation that could not protect its citizens from the ancient wonders of the kingdom.

The Ronin returned his scrutinising gaze to the woman he knew from his obscured past, and his facial expression became one of analytical concern, shrewd observation, and a hunger for the truth. The woman named Sachiko glared at Lillith, the assassin’s aura, power, and potency apparently marked her as an idol of disgust for the shrew like hunter.

“The <bitch> is correct, Taka. When we heard that Tainted were roaming the streets of Yanbo, we had no choice but to investigate.” She pursed her lips, pausing to clock Lillith’s surprise at her ability to speak the language of merchants, “when we heard that the persons in question were Ronin, spirit warders, and Nekojin,” she glared momentarily at Neko, before returning her fuchsia eyes to the swordsman, “I was fearful that I would find a familiar face in the horde of monstrosities.” She gripped the hilt of her blade confidently, defiantly, and without reluctance. "But I did not think it would be you, Taka-chan..." her voice came across almost longing, familiar, and careful. Lillith detected emotion there that was most unbecoming of a hunter.

It made her wonder what history they had.

“Here you are, confronted with ghosts of the past,” the assassin chided. She tucked her black strands of hair behind her ears, widened her stance, and readied herself for the inevitable gamble on a fight or flight response. Neko attached his cat claws to his paws, and crossed them feverishly in raking motions, showing his eagerness to cut throat, sinew and bone alike in defence of his beliefs. He, unlike the zeal of their attackers, knew better than to make haughty assumptions about the aura and glamour of another.

Lillith embraced taint too, but that taint was keeping Akashima alive.

The Jurugumo resided within her to ensure the Greater Oni could never again roam the world of Althanas and sow seeds of contempt in the corners of the globe. She refused to let anyone ply his or her ignorance to the salvation of her home.

“<You will use memory no more, witch,>” she levelled her tanto in front of her body, and turned it into a standard grip. “Taka, we must go, or I shall slit her throat,” she nodded to the silent statuesque group behind her, “and every one of her allies.”

[Tainted Bushido]

A gauntlet clad hand grabbed the hilt of his katana, and he briefly felt the soul trapped within its steel brush against his mind. It was a gentle thing, but it spoke volumes of what was going on. It was the hand on his shoulder to reassure him of his next action. Carefully he rose to his feet, pulling away from the ghosts of his past and sheathed Rengoku. His voice took on a deathly silence that spoke volume, "<The next time I draw steel, I will not put it away until it has drawn blood...>"

The neko seemed to catch the tone in his voice, as the ears neatly turned and tucked against his head and he took a step back. Carefully Taka took off his mask, showing his tainted face to the world once more before he began, stepping squarely between the two groups of people, "<When I came here, I only wished a moment of solace, to understand what has come before in my life. When I reach my one time home I find that an oni has waged the war of the havens in its courtyard, and that a person I was sure dead has come to this town searching for the cause. It is an oni, we both know that it matters not who is at fault, no one could have called the Crab from its resting place. That act was not the hubris of one person, but a group.>"

One of the hunters stepped forward and spat, "<Surely the Ixian Knights have the resources to->"

"<Continue that phrase and I will draw steel,>" Taka warned. the prior warning took weight as they realized what he meant. There would be no backing off, merely a sorting of truths. Taka was using a tone of voice that brokered no insolence, and harbored no friendship for anyone. It was the weary tone of a parent trying to sort out what exactly had happened, and he continued as if the interruption had never occurred, "<Yanbo Port Guard's policy is to secure the harbor before hunting down any peasants tainted by oni blood. Seeing as how the port is returning to normal I can only assume that you aren't here to catch the culprits. If it were that simple it would have been done already or you would have an idea of where they were. No, this isn't a hunt for justice, no matter how much you attempt to hide behind it. I despise liars.>"

The man attempted to open his mouth only to have Sachiko hush him. Taka looked upon the girl without any of the wistfulness that had been in his voice when they had spoken only moments ago. His emotions were carefully bound behind a second mask, the face that he wore when he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on, "<You can track those who bear the taint of Jigoku, which leaves me with only one assumption. You aren't here for the one who did this...>" His hand gestured to the port around him as he turned to look at Lillith.

"<You, are licking your wounds after battle. Even that appears more than strange. Perhaps it is a wistfulness that keeps you here, but I refuse to believe someone like you upon discharging their duty would remain at the scene longer. You are hiding something as well, though what remains to be seen. Perhaps you even hide it from yourself...>" Taka let the words hang even as the neko moved forward slightly. Taka tilted his head only slightly, narrowing his eyes as the cat sized up the ronin. Both stared upon each other for a short while before the neko backed off, Taka unsure of what the creature had sensed.

"<We are here for recruits Taka-dono...>" Sachiko finally said.

"<And one truth comes to light,>" Taka said approvingly. He turned to face the woman before he spoke candidly, "<I suspected as much, but here is not safe. Already shugenja will be scouring the city and a concentration of taint this large would attracted them as a silk moth to flame. I assure you, if the Ixian Knights threatened Akashima I would not be amongst their number. I would not be alive to have this chat with you, for I would have died trying to kill as many of them as possible should such events come to light. You have my word and my honor as a samurai upon this.>"

The men looked to one another before Sachiko's hands hung loosely at her side and she said softly, "<Thank you Taka-dono. I accept your word on the matter.>"

"<How can you->" one of the men began.

"<Because he would not destroy anything he cherishes without reason. He destroyed a band of ronin threatening the tax collectors of Akashima without hesitation. He is perhaps one of the few samurai who know what its like to be such a warrior. Perhaps if you fought alongside him you could see such a thing. If there is one thing I know about Taka, it is that he will give his all to protect what he loves,>" Sachiko said turning to cuff the man at his brow. The man flinched under the hit before he sighed and said, "<We should go, Taka has already given us much information. We need to get back to the recruits and help them learn to curb their emotions, or else they will attract the guard. We need to move->"

The sounds of metal slamming against the ground echoed through the courtyard as everyone turned to witness a small group of Yanbo Port guard enter the desolate courtyard. The sounds of steel upon steel could be heard as they drew katana swiftly the leader speaking, "<I am Kochako Aein of the Port Guard, Do not move, or draw weapons. Any act will be seen as defiance of our authority and shall be punished accordingly...>"

Taka looked upon the guard before he sighed his shoulders tensing and preparing to fight before he spoke softly for the groups, "<It appears today the Kami see fit to parade my past before me. It is too bad my father is not here to witness this. I am sure he would have found this amusing...>"

[Lillith]

Lillith felt the hairs on her neck stand to attention, little soldiers in her body’s private, secret, and deadly war. She reached, instinctively, for the hilt of her blade, feeling its warmth caress her fingertips with the innate energies of a long dead Oni. She felt alive, strong, and focussed with it near.

The captain looked at Lillith for a second time, the first when he entered the scene, and the second when recognition flared his senses. He narrowed his gaze at her. There was admonition in his eyes, an all-knowing acknowledgement of her deeds not days before. He bowed.

“Your authority is diminished here, Kochako. I am Lillith Kazumi, as you well know.” Her Scara Braen features diminished her salute, but the swell of power of the Shogun’s statue shone just as brightly. She narrowed her gaze, and let her hands drop to her sides, free of the intoxication of her weapons. She did not need them, not yet.

The captain nodded. “Your deeds will save you from your crimes, today, at least.” He abandoned his observations of the spirit-warder, and turned them to Taka. Whatever crimes the Ronin committed, they were more worthy of the man’s erstwhile attention.

“Are you the witch who slew the Crab?” Sachiko sniped. The woman’s voice was almost as vitriolic as Ruby’s when she was drunk. Lillith abandoned Taka to his past, and turned instead to a potential future.

“I am the very same, and all the better for it.” Realising that she was not going to escape this encounter with words and foreplay, she unsheathe her tanto, recklessly, perhaps, and advanced slowly towards the group of Akki Tsugasu. “You will not recruit me to your petulant cause, mark my words.”

“We are not in the business of recruiting Tainted,” Sachiko spat. She levied her own blades, windswept and rusting, against the advancing spirit warder. “You are said to hold the Oni in your heart, there is no hope,” she made several clandestine signs to her companions, “for one such as you.” She turned to catch Lillith’s expression of rage as she charged across the cobblestones. In her motion, she abandoned her get, and went barefoot into battle.

“We are at ease, then!” she roared, a flash of fire igniting around her blade, purple flickers of malefic with a hubris of poison and toxicity.

At the exact same time, as if in tune with the violent outburst between strong willed women, Taka and Kochako, blades drawn in their merit and defence, advanced without further word. Katana struck katana in tune with tanto striking tanto. Old met new, new met old, and the mundane met the spiritual in a crescendo of violence.

Taka drove his blade forwards in a piercing thrust, but was quickly rebuke by a sideways parry that knocked him off target. The captain brought his hand up, as he slipped his blade free, and aimed for Taka’s chin. It connected, but left no more an indent than a shameful reddening. The Ronin stepped back, cut his blade through the captain’s mid-guard, and sliced upon the upper thigh, a few inches above his right knee.

“I hold in my heart,” Lillith began, an exchange of blows clashing between the strong women like the calamitous zenith of a lightning storm, “close, and all the evil you cannot contain closer.” She spiralled as she ducked, sliced outwards, and severed the chords of Sachiko’s trousers and the skin beneath along with it. Just above the left knee, blood began to flow freely. It spattered across Lillith’s arm, and the cobbles, and mingled with the chaos and detritus, and death toll of the Crab’s rampage.

She rose on a pounce, but found herself in the way of Sachiko’s fist. Tanto abandoned, the woman called for help with her right hand, and drove a left hand fist into Lillith’s smug grin. Lillith stumbled backwards, arms eschew, and head spinning with the intoxicating sense of a swift riposte. Taka, no more than a few feet away, felt a similar embarrassment as the Captain leered over his guard and drove his blade down heavily into his shoulder. A crack of lightning broke overhead, stirring up the darkening clouds, at the exact moment the single-edged sword connected with Taka’s swiftly raised weapon.

Only the demon inside the Ronin gave him the strength to rebuke the surely fatal blow. Blood trickled down the captain’s blade as it tried to push through Taka’s guard, but failed. The priesthood and guards, and the citizens levied to Sachiko’s cause began to fight amongst themselves, and soon enough, on the ruined streets of Yanbo, a war broke out anew – the madness of the Crab, and the fear it embodied, lingered in the heart of Akashima still, it seemed.

“Now look what you’ve done…” Lillith spat, sweat and mud still her make-up – pain and torment still her strength.

Sachiko smiled as she limped backwards. She smiled broader still when her companions met her side by side, a wall of weapons against what they perceived to be a corruption worthy of death.

Lillith clicked her neck right, and then spoke to Taka without turning to greet him.

“<Taka-sama,>” she paused as she began to circle her foe, and they began to encircle her. “<Show us the demon they fear so much…>” with that threat and challenge, she skittered towards Sachiko, determined, poisoned Tanto raised, and all the contained will of the Jurugumo within its blade surging forth to deliver a mortal, and horribly ironic blow.