Sen Hiromune looked at the eight people who surrounded him in a near-perfect circle. There were three ninjas and three samurais. In addition, there were two very familiar people in the crowd. The middle-aged samurai shifted his guard towards the man in front.

 

Then enemy was a large man about seven feet tall with bushy eyebrows and beard. His loose armor fit snugly on his bulging stomach while his two katanas drawn and laid to the side. The man was Fukushima Narikata of the Fukushima Clan – Daimyo of the Wind Wolves.

 

“So, it is true. Iwashita Takasue has allied with the Fukushima Clan? Am I right, Iwashita-san?” Sen Hiromune asked as he glanced at the other familiar man behind him.

 

The other man was a young lad with striking features and an imposing aura. He was the grandson of Iwashita Takasue and was named Iwashita Arihide. He wore the armor of the Red Tigers and carried a tekkan – a dull and heavy blade usually used to strike and damage armor.

 

However, Iwashita Arihide was well-known to have a penchant of using the heavy weapon on armorless enemies – claiming to relish at the sounds of broken bones and painful screams. The young man swung his weapon a couple of times before smiling menacingly towards Sen Hiromune.

 

“You’re right Uncle Sen. As expected of the Daimyo of Three Crimson Stars. Care to explain why you’re trespassing on private property?” The young warrior chuckled while swinging his tekkan in a bored manner.

 

“Cut the crap! You know why I’ve come! My wife had helped raised you while you were growing up and treated your grandfather as her dear uncle. How could you people be so ruthless!” The middle-aged samurai snapped deliriously.

 

Fukushima Narikata sneered with glee. “What do you mean by ruthless? This era is a chaotic era. We’ve released them from all that unnecessary suffering. You should thank us instead.”

 

“Fuck! You cowardly bastard! Go back to sucking dick and leave the men to do the talking!” Sen Hiromune roared as he pointed his sword at the fatass.

 

The fatty’s eyes and neck veins bulged with anger, his face turning red as if about to explode. “Bitch! Watch me tear you to shreds! Enough talking, kill!”

 

The six minions rushed towards Sen Hiromune who was stuck at the center of the attacks. With no way to back away and escape, the middle-aged man bit the bullet and charged towards one of the ninjas.

 

With a swift kick towards the ninja’s knee, the warrior was able to dislocate the ninja’s joints. As the ninja stumble back, Sen Hiromune swung his katana a couple of times, tearing into the cloth armor and drawing blood.

 

However, before the middle-aged man could finish off the ninja, he was interrupted by a samurai’s blade. Sen Hiromune managed to block the attack, but he had to tumble out of the way as the other enemies started unleashing a barrage of attacks.

 

While the middle-aged man placed some distance between him and his enemies, the dislocated ninja grabbed his injured leg and twisted. With a snap and muffled pop, the ninja relocated his joints. Gritting through the numbness, the ninja joined in the ranks and charged towards his attacker.

 

The first enemy samurai rushed in with a low sweep but missed as Sen Hiromune sidestepped out of the way. However, the first enemy ninja pounced off of the first samurai’s back and aimed a shuriken at the middle-aged man’s head.

 

Sen Hiromune leaned back into a backflip as the shuriken skinned his nose. The middle-aged samurai lunged forward with a diagonal slash, catching the ninja off guard. His katana trailed in a path of red, leaving bloody mists dying the air crimson.

 

However, that attack was not fatal. A well-trained ninja could still avoid death with quick reflexes despite getting caught off guard and injured. The wounded ninja threw a kunai before lunging with a diagonal slash of his own.

 

The middle-aged man deflected the ranged weapon with his katana and barely parried the diagonal slash. Before he could retaliate, he was bombarded with another pair of shurikens. Sen Hiromune had no choice but to fall back and meet the enemy reinforcements.

 

The second and third ninja both carried a kusarigama – a ball-and-chain sickle. The two ninjas threw their metal balls towards Sen Hiromune who tried to block with his katana. Unfortunately, that was a bad move.

 

As Sen Hiromune raised his katana in an attempt to deflect the balls, he nearly managed to deflect one when the other one wrapped itself around his sword. Although the ninja tried to yank the sword out of the middle-aged man’s hands, he was unsuccessful. Sen Hiromune’s sword was practically glued to his hands from the stickiness of the blood of his enemies.

 

Nevertheless, though the sword was not yanked out of the warrior’s hands, the chained ball was still able to chip away at the katana, affecting its durability. While the two ninjas rushed in with their sickles raised as there wasn’t enough time to withdraw the balls, Sen Hiromune kicked one of them out of the way before spinning around to strike the other ninja in the shoulder.

 

Before the ninja could respond, Sen Hiromune twirled his sword so that tip arced at a sharp angle and slit the ninja’s throat with deadly ease. But the middle-aged warrior could not relax as bloodlust trickled down his back.

 

With a shiver, Sen Hiromune dove forward just in time to avoid a sharp vertical slash. Seeing the surprise on the samurai’s face, the warrior took advantage and kicked him in the face. As the samurai stumbled back, the warrior unleashed a flurry of quick strokes, dealing light wounds that quickly built up to certain death.

 

The two deaths raised the enemies’ caution as the five men posed in a stand-off. As the four enemies circled the man, Sen Hiromune tracked down the heavily wounded ninja and aimed a well-timed throw at his head.

 

The ninja jerked his neck to dodge the incoming rock but found him spiraling away. Did he jerk his head to fast? Why was he spinning about? Why was his view changed? Why was he staring…at his feet?

 

While the ninja was distracted by the rock, Sen Hiromune swung his katana in one fell swoop and beheaded the ninja. With two ninjas and one samurai down, the two ‘big bosses’ joined in. Fukushima Narikata rushed towards his opponent with both swords held over his shoulders.

 

The fat daimyo leaned forward and stretched out his arms. With one swift motion, he crossed them in front of him, crisscrossing Sen Hiromune’s chest, tearing apart the cloth armor and splitting skin. Luckily, no blood leaked out.

 

After barely dodging the lethal attack, the middle-aged warrior struck down with his sword only to be blocked by one of Fukushima’s blades. But he did not give up. Sen Hiromune continued to strike down on the blade, pushing Fukushima Narikata back. After a series of strikes, he leapt up in the air and heavily brought down his blade.

 

CLANG! SNAP!

 

Sen Hiromune’s blade split Fukushima Narikata’s blade in half. Following through with the downward slash, the middle-aged warrior split open the fat daimyo’s face and blinded the enemy’s right eye. As the leader of the Wind Wolves squirmed about in pain, Iwashita Arihide ambushed Sen Hiromune from behind, landing a purplish bruise on the middle-aged man’s back.

 

The middle-aged man spat out some blood and spun around with his guard ready. The young brute of a man swung his tekkan again and again, never tired as if blessed with divine strength and vigor. Sen Hiromune could only go on the defense. Even when rolling away, he would be chased by this young tiger, like a wounded deer trying to hold onto dear life.

 

Iwashita Arihide could continue the bashing, but Fukushima Narikata was still fuming over by the side with one of his eyes spilling out of his eye socket. The angry and reckless obese man swung his good sword at Sen Hiromune, hoping to gauge out an eye. However, due to the lack of one eye, he was unable to adapt to the changes in depth.

 

Thus, Fukushima Narikata’s sword fell short and was only able to shave off a few hairs of the middle-aged man’s graying beard. Before the fatty could bring his sword about for another slash, Sen Hiromune dodged a timely…or possibly untimely attack from Iwashita Arihide’s tekkan.

 

The tekkan missed the middle-aged man by a hair and collided with the katana. The two respective warriors backed away from the force of the collision, giving Sen Hiromune ample room to regroup.

 

“Fuck, kid! Watch where you’re swinging that thing!” Fukushima Narikata roared, the pain in his head clouding his judgement. As an ally to the Takasue Faction, him screaming at the grandson of Iwashita Takasue was unwise to say the least.

 

“Old pig! Watch your language or I’ll bash your teeth in!” Iwashita Arihide snarled in retaliation.

 

“What did you say, brat? Is that how you talk to your elders?”

 

“Elders? Fuck! Who would treat a fatass as their elder?”

 

“Fuck! Wanna go? I’ll slice you to pieces!”

 

“Retard! Go die! I’ll bash your face in!”

 

While the two samurais argued, Sen Hiromune took this chance to escape. However, he did not go far as a chained ball flew towards his back. With a sidestep, he smashed the ball into the ground and dashed towards the ninja, aiming low.

 

With a swift horizontal slash, the middle-aged veteran chopped through the ninja’s kneecaps, causing him to stumble and fall. While the ninja fell, Sen Hiromune brought his sword up in reverse and stabbed down, dealing the fatal blow.

 

Luckily, the two leaders were still quarreling with each other. Unfortunately, the remaining two minions spotted Sen Hiromune’s movements. Without giving him a breather, the two samurais waved their katanas at the middle-aged man, driving him back.

 

Sen Hiromune forcefully swatted the two katanas away and rammed his shoulder into one of the samurai. As that samurai stumbled to regain himself, the middle-aged man turned towards the other samurai and unleashed a flurry of slashes and strikes.

 

After finishing off that samurai, he proceeded to end the stumbling samurai. Sen Hiromune twirled around once and, using the momentum of the spin, carried his blade towards the enemy swiftly and deadly.

 

But, before he could kill the last samurai minion, Iwashita Arihide’s tekkan flew out of nowhere and smacked hard on the center of the middle-aged man’s katana. The force of the tekkan finally broke the sword in half.

 

Sen Hiromune stared at his broken sword in undisguised grimace. What bad luck! But, before he could dwell on the matter, he sensed some killing intent coming from behind him. Sen Hiromune turned around on reflex and struck out. However, he realized too late that his sword was already destroyed.

 

SLASH! PFFFFTT!

 

An irresistible urge rose from Sen Hiromune’s throat as a salty liquid filled up his mouth. Couldn’t hold it in any longer, the middle-aged man spewed out a mouthful of blood. Sen Hiromune looked down slowly at the gaping wound in his stomach and the half-embedded sword in his belly.

 

He glanced up and saw the sneer on Fukushima Narikata’s face. “Got you now, ya bastard!”

 

“Y-You!” Sen Hiromune pointed his broken sword with reluctance.

 

“Go to hell!” The fatty grabbed his sword with two hands and completed the slash, nearly splitting Sen Hiromune in half.

 

Fukushima Narikata lifted up one foot and kicked the corpse far away. With a sharp swing down, he then sheathed his sword and walked towards Iwashita Arihide.

 

“So, it’s done.” The young lord remarked in aloofness.

 

“Yes, it’s done.” The fatty agreed. “What should we do about the kid?”

 

“You mean Sen Iefusa? My family’s intelligence says he went to the west to study. By the time he gets back, my family would be too powerful for him to do anything but grovel and ask for mercy.” Iwashita Arihide chuckled. “I can’t wait for that day.”