The stage was set for a play of four acts.
The first one began with a duel.
A field by a tiny village.
Dozens of uniformed soldiers march in formation, wielding steel and gun, brimming with war-lust, yet
cloaked in eerie silence. Their forms dance in sinister colors, their wickedness amplified by the crimson
rays of the setting sun.
At the head of the army stood a group of soldiers clad in armor forged of thick, rigid steel, all armed with
blades. Even a single one of these warriors could unleash terrible destruction incomparable in magnitude
to the battalion of regular infantry behind them – the sheer terror they reflected stood testament to that
fact, and told the tale in far greater detail than a thousand words ever could.
The one who spoke now was a steel-clad warrior spearheading the troops facing the village – the pride
and arrogance soaking into his every word evidenced that he was the one commanding this army.

Commander: I know that this village is sheltering a rebel who took part in the Kurakake insurrection.
Hand him over without resistance. Fail to do so, and this village shall be razed to the ground!

His voice was heard by a group of villagers repairing a nearby fence. There was not a single soul among
them who failed to understand the meaning behind his words – all of them knew very well that his
proclamation was no empty threat. And yet, none of them showed any sign of fear.
What swept across the small crowd… was anger.
Those bastards. Mad dogs, rotten to the core.
They lacked the courage to speak up. But they continued to murmur among each other, their voices
heavy with loathing. Rokuhara. Rokuhara.
They spit out that single word in a low voice.
Rokuhara. The commander of the battalion answering to that name repeats his earlier proclamation. The
villagers continue their low whispers of mixed hatred and animosity without answering his call.
The commander repeats the line one more time. As he does so, his soldiers point their guns at the
villagers. The murmurs die down as fear begins to stir in their hearts. Yet their burning hate ceases to
perish. A gaze of silent hatred, of silent loathing.

That silence was abruptly broken – but not by the commander’s firing order. The villagers dispersed as a
man stepped out from within their crowd.
Please, Lord samurai. Don’t do this – you cannot! You will be massacred! Lord samurai!
Voices were raised one after the other, all to stop him. The man answered their pleas with but a single
phrase:

Old Samurai: Thank you for everything.

Leaving the crowd behind, the steel-clad warrior made his way towards the commander – his armor
identical to the ones worn by the oppressors. If there was indeed a difference to be found, it had to be
the state of their armor. Taking utmost care of its steel, boasting of an utterly perfect condition; or
continuing on mindless of injuries, leaving the armor to the rot of decay.
Such was the only difference between the two – a military commander and a deserter.
The old deserter stepped forward. His hand was clasped by another, much smaller than his. It was a little
girl. She clung onto him in silence, refusing to let go.
The man looked down at her in silence, reached for her head and gently patted it. Her grasp loosened in
response and let him go. Tears welled in her eyes as the old man left her behind, continuing his march
In the field between villagers and troops, the two warriors stood to face each other.

Kakei: Why are you here, Saginuma?
Saginuma: I merely came to pay my respects to a former superior, Major Kakei. Or should I say… exMajor.
Kakei: Do you truly promise to leave the villagers unharmed?
Saginuma: As I’ve previously stated, we shall overlook the crimes of this village in exchange for handing
you over to us.
Kakei: Very well. So…? Do you wish to personally cross blades with me, here and now? Should you not
turn to your underlings for aid?
Saginuma: And why would I need to do such a thing?
Kakei: …………….
Saginuma: I believe you prided yourself in having never lost a one-on-one duel. I cannot possibly cast
you to the fiery depths of the otherworld without crushing that winning streak. For one who betrayed
the Rokuhara Shogunate deserves not a shred of glory! It appears you are unable to take to the skies in
your current condition. Let us settle the score here on the ground, then.
Kakei: You are clearly not lacking in confidence, Saginuma. To think a novice like you have come to spout
such words. I shall gladly accept your challenge… and make an offering of your head on my way to the
otherworld.
Saginuma: Those are my lines, Kakei. I look forward to washing down the taste of your blood with a cup
of exquisite sake.