Scene: The Training Field
The morning sun broke through the mist, bathing the vast training field in a golden haze. The wind carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms and steel.
It was the day of the match.
A friendly clash—but one layered with tension, pride, and unspoken challenges.
At the center of the field stood the five elite generals of the Samurai Kingdom, each radiating discipline and presence.
The dawn mist still clung to the grass when the five Samurai Commanders took their places at one end of the clearing:
1. Matsuya the Swift (dual wooden sabers)
2. Yurei the Phantom (silent spearmaster)
3. Akemi the Flame Fist (unarmed combat)
4. Rokuro the Stone Wall (tower shield)
5. Nobee the Storm Shield (wooden naginata)—a master of sweeping, defensive strikes that crack the air like thunder.
Opposite them, the five Ninja Generals advanced into the pale light:
1. Kyra the Blade—lethal twin ninjato and unbreakable spirit
2. Raiden the Thunder—polearm strikes that shatter the earth
3. Hiro the Eagle Eye—bow and arrow with unerring precision
4. Katsuro the Shadow—throwing daggers, strikes unseen
5. Daisuke the Whisper—silent–claw assassin, felt only in the aftermath
At the sidelines, Chief Tanjiro Nakamoto watched in crimson armor, flanked by both kings and Ichigo. His presence was calm but intense—every muscle coiled.
A single bell rang.
The morning mist curled across the field as the bell rang, and wood met wood in a clash of wills.
Matsuya the Swift and Kyra the Blade locked blades first. Sabers and ninjato sang, sparks of friction illuminating each strike. Matsuya's twin cuts came hard and fast, but Kyra's footwork—light as smoke—evaded them. She landed the first tap on his shoulder; he answered with a grazing strike across her ribs. 1–1.
Across the clearing, Yurei the Phantom faced Raiden the Thunder. Raiden's polearm thundered down, splitting air like a storm. Yurei dissolved into shadow, reappearing behind Raiden in silence to score. Raiden spun, recovering his stance, and braced for the next attack. 1–1.
Akemi the Flame Fist danced toward Katsuro the Shadow. Bare fists met throwing daggers in a blur. Katsuro's steel whispered around Akemi's guard—two quick stabs to her arms. Akemi retaliated with a palm strike, sending Katsuro stumbling. 1–1.
At the center, Rokuro the Stone Wall advanced on Daisuke the Whisper. Each step Rokuro took shook the earth; Daisuke wove through the tremors, clawed strike to Rokuro's side. The giant shield-bearer grunted but held firm. 0–1.
Finally, Nobee the Storm Shield raised her wooden naginata against Hiro the Eagle Eye's bow. An arrow flew; Nobee's sweeping blade cleaved it mid-flight. She closed distance, spinning her naginata in a wide arc—Hiro leapt back, but the sweep found his shoulder. 1–0.
After the opening volley, both sides bore three hits apiece. Sweat-soaked and breathing hard, they circled again.
Matsuya and Kyra met in the center. Matsuya's saber blitz aimed for her head; Kyra ducked under and drove both blades into his midsection. 2–1, ninja. Raiden countered Yurei's elusive jabs with a crushing overhead strike—2–1, samurai.
Katsuro darted at Akemi, daggers flashing like falling stars. Akemi's fists became meteors, each punch staggering the ninja. 2–1, samurai. Daisuke and Rokuro danced their deadly dance; Daisuke's swift claw found a gap in the shield, but Rokuro's counter-bash cracked Daisuke's arm. 1–1.
In the final duel, Nobee and Hiro squared off. Hiro's arrows whistled; Nobee's defenses held, then she closed, her naginata slicing the air. Hiro rolled under the blade, slashed back—a final point. 1–1.
The bell rang again. Each side had scored five decisive hits.
The sky had shifted from the golden hue of dusk to a silent, starless black. The training grounds had emptied, and the echo of wooden blades had long faded. But Ichigo's sharp eyes hadn't missed something odd—Tanjiro, the Sword of the West, hadn't returned to his quarters. His aura, once blazing and proud, had vanished from sight. Ichigo's instincts stirred.
Something wasn't right.
With a quiet step and a covered breath, Ichigo followed Tanjiro's trail—through the palace corridors, beyond the outer fields, and finally into the dark forest, where shadows lived like ghosts.
For nearly half an hour, he moved without sound, tailing the crimson warrior through thickets and uneven paths. Then he saw it.
Tanjiro stood near a shallow river, where five figures in ragged black cloaks attempted to cross under the cover of fog. But they weren't ordinary men. Their skin was pale, their weapons curved and stained, and their eyes gleamed yellow with malice—Mangol assassins.
Without a word, Tanjiro unsheathed his blade.
A sudden spark of red tore through the mist.
Like a beast unchained, he became a blur—his blade danced with fire, his strikes cutting like thunder. The assassins barely had time to scream before blood dyed the river red, the surface swirling with ripples of death.
Ichigo remained hidden, stunned.
Two hours passed in near silence, the only sound being Tanjiro's swift movements as he moved north—lightning-fast, urgent, relentless.
Finally, he reached the northern border outpost—and froze.
Ichigo climbed the same ridge moments later, his breath shallow, and saw what had stopped the crimson samurai.
All their defensive posts… had fallen.
Banners torn, camps burned, and Mangol forces now occupied the once-guarded lands. Armored figures patrolled every inch, their war horns faintly echoing across the valley.
And then—
Steel touched his back.
Ichigo froze.
"I felt someone behind me for a while," Tanjiro said calmly, his blade resting against Ichigo's spine. His voice was low, like distant thunder. "And here I thought the ninjas were better at hiding."
Ichigo raised his hands slowly. "I had to follow you. You left without a word. With the war coming, people like you can't go unchecked."
Tanjiro was silent for a moment, then lowered his blade.
"Then look," he said, nodding toward the horizon.
Ichigo stepped beside him and gasped.
Thousands of Mangol soldiers stood ready—entrenched, prepared, and waiting.
"This… this isn't a border skirmish," Ichigo whispered. "This is the beginning."
Tanjiro's eyes narrowed, burning red.
"They've already arrived."
To be continued.....