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Atarashi Kiba (Jigoku no Toshi)

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When the Wolf failed to be found in his personal quarters, it was swiftly understood that he was likely in the dojo. As opposed to waiting, the young Kunoichi decided to venture through his premises and onto the sacred grounds this particular Wolf deigned as such. Careful not to disrespect or desecrate the image of the Wolf's dojo, she silently searched the premises for signs of life, in which finding a lone room with a single life force in it all but promised the discovery of the in which she had sought. Sliding the rice paper door open she knelt, not daring to enter the tatami mats as she refused to remove her footwear. Peering from beyond a Kitsune mask, the Kunoichi bowed her head in respect before addressing the intense presence before her.

"Our Emperor summons you, my Lord."

Without waiting for a response, the Kunoichi remained faithful that she had successfully delivered the words of the Emperor himself to the specific intended audience. Sliding the door shut once more, she made quick silent work of escaping the premises and returning to her typical patrol route assignment. Meanwhile, their Emperor waited patiently for the Wolf to arrive as designated. There the Emperor stood in a silent higher floor of his pagoda, Kenshi's Omagatoki HQ, a single flame lit to give some low lighting in the room. Before him sat a stand with a rather interesting sheath and sword was to be found on display. While Kenshi had been diligently working, Koji had watched. Dare he admit that perhaps an official promotion as well as a gift of rebirth to the dishonored was a little over due?

@Etched in Stone

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It wasn’t so strange, that on a Doyôbi Saturday eve School of the Rising Sun was quiet, empty without student or Sensei. Though most of the Dojo’s architectural design was focused to appeal as one of Jingoku’s main infrastructures, it still held some influences of early Shugendo beliefs. Kakejiku scrolls hung posted on the dojo walls depicting tales from many different lifetimes of Senjo no Ookami, his pilgrim beginnings, to his trainings of late under Yamabushi monks. The young shinobi girl had just enter through the Martial Dojo floor itself, various weapons displayed acquired from numerous amounts of Asian influences organized along the walls and shelves alike to a set of eyes, went untouched and were just for show. A full-plated Armour set rested as a mannequin in the far centre of the room polished in a thick coat of obsidian dragon scales, a brown seal or Kamon representing the Kokuryu no Kibo embroidered upon the cuirass or torso of the armor. A pair of Blades, one the Odachi and a Wakazashi mounted above on a wall behind the Samurai Armour in a pair of crimson red scabbard or saya. Another painting as the Kunoichi found herself within the spread area of the dojo floors was more captivating than any of the others she passed by. It was the artwork of Seven Wolves by their features alone, were all from seperate packs. Yet, on this particular parchment were a Pack of Seven Ookami warriors symbolizing the many different backgrounds and nations it took the found such an Empire under a brotherhood of Swordslayers came to be known as the Wolves of Jigoku. 

The works of Japanese Shuji or calligraphy and a graceful stroke from an inkstick brush upon mulberry paper held the attention of Master Kenshi upon a Tatami mat seated in the posture of seiza. Like in Martial Arts, a Calligrapher has only one chance to create with the brush. Mistakes cannot be corrected and even a lack of confidence, shows up in the work. One’s mind must be cleared to let the letters flow from thought. Just after the Kunoichi had appear such flow and concentration was disrupted when the wax candles bestowed on the counter above him lighting the quarter wavered and flicked out of oxygen, dimming the room into blackness from the night outdoors. These religious wax candles had given off the presence of the uninvited guess as they could also ward off unwanted spirits. The voice and unfamiliar command as the rice paper door slid ajar, the lady stared unto him through the night in his silken pale white robe, a match fitting his blank white eyes. Legends were true. This was the Blind Yokai Swordslayer she was standing in the presence of. Noting she did not enter he turned his blind vision to the kunoichi’s from his seated posture. 

“Thank you, tell him I am coming.”

Edited by Etched in Stone

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The Kunoichi would not return to their Emperor with verbal compliance. Her job had been completed, not to mention rhetoric was not the Emperor's strong suit. He knew Kenshi would come, thus why he summoned him. Koji continued to wait in the low light of this particular floor of the pagoda, waiting for the owner of the room to return to it as requested so that he might impart upon him a gift. When he did finally arrive, Koji would ominously speak to him before he had the chance to talk, and without looking at him in the process.

"I see you took your time in arriving here Wolf, perhaps you fear you are in trouble?"

The Emperor mused teasingly before stepping forward to lift the sword from the stand it occupied. Turning to face Kenshi with it, he unsheathed the unique blade. Hosting it with a single finger beneath where a hand-guard would have been, the longer blade and shorter handle proved to had an odd, yet perfect sense of balance incorporated into it's production. There had certainly never been a blade like this one crafted or carried before, not to Koji's limited knowledge, and yet here he stood with the rare specimen. Ready to breath new life into the Ookami as he had so promised him that day he learned of Kenshi's former Master's death.

"Kneel."

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Feverish white sparks excite and the candle sticks rekindle anew, this time from the Will of his mental prowess. The wax candles were still used to detect unnoticed attention and warding incorporeal beings. Just then a sense and peace of mind returned to want to carry on his calligraphy. The inkstick brush lie flat against the mulberry parchment as he calmly sighed away - what could the Emperor want to tell his Warlord during the middle of night? There were levels to this or a chain of command to follow. Kenshi had no choice to oblige when asked for directly. These visions from the Heika have no doubt been unforeseen, yet, depicted as so he mentioned. These visions, were actually real and in occurrence. Pushing from his seated seiza with front faced palms his legs did most the work, lifting him from the lower half up off the floor. The candles were left to burn on their own as naked feet meander through the small private office of the Dojo. With him sealed in a large wooden ornate chest rather fiddled hands, Kenshi pulled free two hand scrolls or Makimono stashing them in the intricacies of his elongate robe. He shut the old storage container, exited through the office’s sliding rice paper and on to the polished wood floors of the dojo arena to the entrance doors. The Mudra hand seal of Tora formed singlehandedly in his left, it’s association with the element of Fire instantly blew out all wax candles presently lit as he made leave for the Pagoda.

“Let me know what I have alluded, my Lord.”

He arrived faced-front, half lidded egg whites in place of his eyes traced over the would-been location of the Heika. In an esteemed bow he lowered himself to fancy a full 45 degree bend to appear almost if he were staring down at his own bare feet. Holding his form, longer than he would if it were informal. The metal audibleness from the sword sliding against its scabbard confinement to the blind yokai-wolf and the insinuation from Koji of possible harm, left a hard gut feeling to swallow though as trained in empathy and mental prowess as a spirit warrior,when asked to kneel he done as so without question. The cascade of his mane flowing to the hard wood floor. Already, this moment between them had felt like they been through this once before - dejavú replaying the imagery from his foreseeable future. Hence, the thought of his own beheading did not surface his mind. 

“I’ve dreamt of this day to come many nights before.”

Edited by Etched in Stone

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The sword as a whole was beautiful to look at. The enchanted blade hummed with foreign energies beyond mortal comprehension. The brilliant icy blue hued tip faded to a dark gray at the base, transitioning into what was ultimately a black handle; Hosting a golden arrow head shaped pommel, ideal for strikes with such. Unlike Kenshi's usual comfort zone within his one sword style, this sword was a one handed one, and with no hand guard. He wouldn't be able to facilitate two handed attacks that his traditional style perhaps focused on for the increase in power and speed. However, the metaphysical nature of the weapon was enough to compensate, perhaps even encourage Kenshi to consider finding another fang to match this one.

"!"

Turning suddenly 180 degrees, the Heika took on a shadowy appearance, with tendrils of the vantablack vapor streaming from all over his body. The peeking Mugen-me would not failed to hypnotize Kenshi because he was blind, such had been established in the past no doubt. In his passing with the blade, Kenshi neck began to shift apart, until the inevitable moment that his head slid clean off of his corpse before blood began to spray from the exposed inner neck. When the sensation of himself dying came to pass, the Mugen-me closed. Reality exposed the vision for what it was, and the Emperor was left hosting the blade before him, now gripping it in his Draconic hand. Pressingly the flat of the blade to his shoulder with the obvious edge turned away from his person, the Heika broke the silence once more.

"Momoku, Kenshi. Warlord, and General of the Imperial Army. Commander of the Lurid Inquisition. Grand Master of the School of the Rising Sun. Zai!"

The final title spoken carried extra emphasis, though there was no increase in volume.

"I have watched your flame dwindle to your least honorable state. Despite this, today, it seems that the flames of valor that once abandoned you have returned. In death comes rebirth, life. Thus is Samsara. In accordance to tradition, it is said that the warrior harbors his soul within his blade. With this blade, consider the transgressions of your old life cleansed. With this blade, your soul is birthed anew."

Flipping the blades grip he offered the blade once more in horizontal fashion, yet with both hands hosting it out before Kenshi with a bow, albeit, never one that was as deep as his.

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“Even when people die, weapons remain.”

Though a limited sight prohibited the wolf-yokai’s chance to witness the Blade’s magnificent aspect as it waved in Koji’s hand. The metaphysical ice blue and dark gray energy emanating the hard cold steel showed enough proof the Blade was not from ordinary construct. In that thought alone did Kenshi only seem it suitable for himself, radiating with undeniable power in Heika’s grasp. The question asked was not to be answered, but to be granted thought provoking. Jigoku has been a peaceful Nation throughout, yet in his summon to the Pagoda the Swordslayer felt compelled to see if there would be more than just what was being mentioned by the Emperor. Territory was spreading beyond the Midlands and the province of O’oxara was flourishing more than ever. With rumors of the Rising Sun Dojo establishing itself in the Heart of Jigoku, soon, the Nation was bound to face some kind of conflict or turmoil. As a spiritual warrior Kenshi had the Will to break said hallucinogen yet, fearless that he was actually in the way of harm he allowed the Mugen-me illusion to overcome him. Strange to the effect however, the Yokai within was freed to its own release as an incorporeal being, becoming Kenshi’s eyes and only witness to the horrid beheading. Without his Yokai spirit the Blind man was hopeless in defense of the overburdening darkness that clouded his judgement, his mind, from true reality. All the while he remained safe, the Yokai willn’t allow him any physical harm. Once the hovering darkness cleared, the Yokai spirit fused itself back into Kenshi. For the Hanyo, it was like breathing in life again. Soon, his clouded thoughts and vision was no longer a hindrance. Snapping back into the realities that preexisted, he shifted his focus onto Emperor Koji whom at this time horizontally presented the Blade in both arms. Slightly bowing at the enchanting Blade he too, held his own hands outwardly to retrieve it as he then, added: 

“As I’ve mentioned the day we met, I’m here to serve until I can no longer do so. This Sword, couldn’t have found no better hands. As I, couldn’t have obtained one better suited.”

 

Edited by Etched in Stone

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