Disclaimer: I own neither Kuroinu: kedakaki wa hakudaku ni somaru or the good the bad and the ugly.

Chapter 1 The legend awakens

The Texas wildlife was hollering as it always has.

The Toads rumbling with their calls, Fireflies beginning to light their bellies, And the Birds singing their last toons before the night comes in. And in this great open land where many settlers took long journeys to find a home in the free Nation of America, Laid a house. Sitting by a lake with a blessed view of the many mountains that grazed the American frontier.

And in this house held a Cowboy.

A man that is more of a myth then a legend, A Gunslinger that is unmatched in a duel, And a bounty killer that is both praised and feared in the lawless land of mexico and the growing giant that is the up and coming America.

He has many names that are whispered in the west.

But most simply called him The Man With No Name.

And he is currently sitting in a rocking chair, Smoking a Cigarillo and drinking a bottle of whisky, All while staring at his last sunset he'll probably ever have on God's green earth.

"I've always wondered how it gets so many colors, It'll definitely be the thing I'll miss the most" The cowboys says to no one in particular.

While the Man With No Name is a legend that will go down in history as the greatest gunslinger that the world will ever see, As well as being impossibly quick on the draw that made him seem like a demon in human form

The Americano was and still will always be...human.

The Man With No Name was 79 years old, Just one short from 80 and a record high in the land of the west.

The cowboy knew that death comes for all men and there's no escaping his cold grasp, And unfortunately the reaper knocks at his door.

"You know I honestly never thought I'd get this far, Always thought that I'd go out in a blaze of glory or get a bullet in the back of the head by a sweet lady. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if the smoke got to me before anything else. But no, Instead I get to loose my strength, My looks, And my goddamn hair" The legend proclaimed.

He really missed his hair.

"well at least I ain't shitting myself like the rest of them..."

The man chuckles but starts to cough uncontrollably.

"Shit maybe the smoke will get me"

The coughing got worse. So the man swallows the last of his precious whisky to soothe his throat.

Dropping the bottle on the floor, The man starts to remember the past adventures he had in his youth.

'You know it wasn't half bad, My life could have been a lot worst, But somehow it all turned out alright. Sure I could have done a little bit more good for others and be a little bit more selfless, But at least I didn't turn a blind eye for those who truly needed help, Hell most of the time it was a win-win in my book, They get help and I get money' The Good smiled to himself.

'I really was good at getting that money no matter how crazy the situation was' The gunslinger thought.

And he truly was good at getting that money.

Whether the money was on the head of a notorious outlaw, Buried in a cemetery in the middle of a battlefield between the Union and The Confederates, Or simultaneously sabotaging two gang in a ghost town so that the people there can finally be free without worrying to much about getting there heads blown off, All the while receiving the gangs dirty money.

Yep, Helping people when he can and loading up on cash, definitely not a bad a life. But deep inside he'd be lying to himself if he didn't feel like he could have done more.

Oh well Beggars can't be choosers as the saying goes.

"But you know, In a land without morals. Showing a little bit of good and kindness goes a long way don't ya think"

The Man With No Name turns his head to the person he's been speaking to this whole time...Or the object he's been speaking too.

His trusty Peacemaker Revolver.

With the silver rattlesnake grips. His only friend he had in his whole life, Not even Tuco or the Old Man can come close with the kinship he made with his weapon. He's lost count how many times his friend got him and many others out of trouble. Sure he had other Revolvers before it, But none of them came close for him.

Feeling a sudden tiredness befall him, The cowboy begins to say his last words.

"Well boy it looks like our adventure ends here" The bounty killer reaches out to grab his Peacemaker for the final time.

"This is good...isn't it"

Slowly his eyes close and finally...the Sun-sets on Blondie for the last time as his breathe fades away.

Eostia. Unknown location. 6:00 am.


The Man With No Name eyes fluttered open.

Releasing a yawn, The man slowly starts to get up. Stretching his body, The cowboy brings a satisfying sigh of relief for all to hear, All thanks to the the popping of his joints.

'Hmm strange I could have sworn I fell asleep in that damn chair' The bounty killer said to himself.

'Maybe that whiskey was stronger than I thought'. Getting a better look at his surroundings, The legend of the west realized that he was in a wild grassy plain with no one in sight but the beautiful sunrise at the horizon.

"Well that's weird, Don't remember waking up here...at least I'm not dead" The gunslinger chuckled to himself.

The Man froze on the spot.

If he was still thinking clearly (Which he was) then the Man With No Name could of sworn his voice wasn't...Well old.

'All right lets try this again shall we'.

The man took a breath.

"...Whiskey…"

Nothing but the wind and the chirping of birds was heard.

All the while The Man With No Name was struggling to figure out what was in that goddamn drink.

'Okay okay calm down there old man just because you woke up somewhere different and your voice sounds weird doesn't mean you need to start shitting bricks' The Gringo thought to himself.

As the cowboy was having a mind war with himself, He unconsciously goes for one of the few things that calms him down.

His pack of Cigarillo.

But stops himself when something catches his eye. About ten or so feet where he once laid was in object he wasn't expecting. He casually walks towards it and picks up his once forgotten weapon.

"Well I'll be…"

The man never finished for in his hands was his Volcanic Repeater rifle. The rifle he used to shoot the noose Tuco was constantly in when the both of them needed that extra cash.

Now this was definitely not right. Waking up in the middle of nowhere isn't new for him and his voice sounding different was something he can deal with, But his rifle that he lost so many years ago, Popping up next him, Now thats where he draws the line.

"All right you've had your fun, Now come on out" The American proclaimed.

Nothing but silence answered back

"Didn't you hear, I said Come Out!" The western legend shouted while firing his weapon.

He was grasping at straws he knew that, He already observed the area and saw nothing but a few trees and some boulders but at least his little outburst is calming him down. Taking a closer look at his weapon, The gunslinger notice that there was no sign of wear or tear on the rifle, No rust or anything.

'Now that's impossible, I lost this boy 30 or 40 years ago, There has to be some type of damage on it' The Stranger thought to himself.

Even if a traveller or a bandito pick it up right after he lost the damp thing there should still be some age to the it. But there's none to be found on the rare rifle, It looks like it hasn't aged a day since the last time he had it.

The cowboys mind starts to wage war against him once again as he tries to make sense from this bizarre situation he found himself in.

'Okay now we can shit bricks'

The bounty killers halted his inner discussion with himself from the realization that if he has his Repeater rifle by his side...does that also mean he has his trusty friend by his side too?

A familiar weight on his right hip answered his question.

No Name puts his rifle into his left hand and holds it firm as he drags his right hand to his thigh and pulls out his Peacemaker.

"Well at least there's something where it's supposed to be" The Americano said to his old friend.

Putting the gun back in its holster. The cowboy starts to feel a lighter weight on his left hip, Bringing his hand across, He latches on to a firm oak handle and pulls out a fine steel bowie knife that is at least 6 inches in length and 3 inches wide.

Putting his newly occurred knife away, The Good tilts his head down and brings his hand to rub the frustration that has been building up, Only for something to grace his knuckles and fall before his dirty cowboy boots. Our dirty blonde gunslinger picks up the piece of clothing that he used to wear constantly in his youth.

His old dirty brown cowboy hat.

However, His familiar hat wasn't the only thing that was on the Cigar loving man.

"Well...well...well, I'll be damp"

Adorn on the American cowboy was none other than his famous set of clothes he used to wear back in the day.

His iconic dark brown poncho with its white patterns was draped across his shoulders. There was also his Buffalo tanned vest and light blue button up shirt covering his torso. His black jeans and dirty brown cowboy boots covering his modesty and protecting his feet respectively. Last but not least, The Man With No Name slowly brings his hand to his throat feeling the familiar black bandana that shields his neck from the deadly rays of the sun.

putting his repeater on the ground, The man puts both his hands on his gun belt, tilting his head down towards the dirt to cover his eyes from the bright star so he can once again collect his thoughts.

'Alright something is definitely going on here. First I wake up in this strange place with my voice sounding off, Then I find my long lost rifle that been gone for far to long, And then finally I'm back in my old clothes I used to wear when I was in my prime'.

The wild west personified lets out a tired sigh.

'Well there's no time for giving myself a headache with all this worrying, I need to know where I'm am and there's no better way then getting information, then from the locals'

With a goal in mind the professional bounty killer decides to head towards a line of trees about half a mile away from him. Along the way, The American gunslinger wonders what the hell was really in that whiskey.

Eostia. 2 miles away from the Man With No Name. 6:12 am


A thundering noise that struck the air, Alerting a band of green skinned hulking beasts. they never heard such a sound in there disgusting life, and curiosity was building up inside of them to find out what created it.

monsters.

Vile creatures that have been committing savage acts since the beginning. from raiding and pillaging villages, to murdering and eating there victims. All races of Eostia were not safe from there grasps. But there most heinous crime involve the women.

Rape.

whether the women were Human, Elf, etc. They will take her to there kin and ravage her till she is no more. They will not kill her, they will not eat her, just use her. Not for reproducing, Not for survival, just for pleasure.

This is why the world calls them monsters. And unfortunately they were many different types of monsters out there.

These ones were called orcs.

Releasing grunts and low growls at each other, The dozen or so orcs look to the leader of the group. The orc in charge was a Chieftain, He was taller than the rest of his kin, but only by a few inches, His hide was riddled with scars and the color of his skin was tad lighter then the others. Unlike the rest of the beast who were adorn in nothing but loincloths to hide their genitals, This one had a few pieces of leather armor to protect himself, as well as a necklace of bones that were from the many species of Eostia.

The leader inhaled a large amount of air into his nose and let out a low grunt to his brothers. The orcs were excited to hear the news that the direction the strange noise came from had a lone human. With a growl, The Chieftain led the group towards the human...all the while chuckling to themselves hoping that the human was female so they may relieve themselves with her.

Eostia. Unknown. 9:21 am


"Well it's official..I'm lost"

The Man With No Name sighed.

He was currently walking in a lively forest, While refreshing at first to be somewhere new than a wide open plane, The gunslinger quickly realized that it was much denser than he was expecting, and with a little more than 3 hours of trekking through the woods, The American was getting mighty tired with this bullshit.

A low grumble came out of the man's stomach.

'Oh don't worry I haven't forgotten about you buddie'

Oh I forgot to mention, He's quite hungry and was having trouble convincing his stomach not to eat itself.

But even still with all these obstacles, None of them came close to his slow realization that he's no longer in Kansas anymore.

'There's no way I'm in Heaven, That's for sure' The cowboy thought.

While The Good has done some good in his life, He was still a selfish person and it was definitely not enough for Saint Peter to welcome him in those pearly gates.

'And if this is hell well...alright'

Not what he was expecting, More in line with fire and brimstone with eternal torture sprinkled on top, but this is fine.

Stumbling on to a stream, The cowboy lets out a sigh of relief.

'Finally, Some good' The man exclaimed.

Setting down his rifle, The nameless cowboy finally takes a break and quenches his thirst with clean water...only for him to once again freeze at the spot.

"There really was something in that whisky" The man says.

Seeing his reflection for the first time sense he woke up, The Good was surprised to see that he was...young again.

'Damp...I forgot how Good I looked' The cowboy thought.

Taking off his hat, the bounty killer is happy to see that his wonderful dirty blonde hair (that he oh so missed dearly) was back, Naturally spiked all thanks to his hat. He still had his glorious beard all nice and trimmed. His sky blue eyes was glowing in delight at the discovery he's made. The growing hunger and the tiredness he was facing moments ago was still there, but the happiness The Man With No Name was having in being young again stopped that for the time being.

Standing up and throwing his pancho on his right shoulder and lighting a freshly new Cigar, The gunslinger decided to do his famous squint, Glaring at his reflection in the water. The cowboy could have sworn that the water rumbled when he made eye contact.

"Hmm still got it" The man exclaimed to himself.

Hearing multiple feral growls behind him, The good slowly turns around to the source of the disturbance. In front of the man were at at least a dozen of green skinned brutes. 14 of them, if he counted right.

"The hell are you?" The Gringo asked.

Hearing no response the Americano continued.

" Do you speak english?"

Once again they said nothing, Only staring at the strange man they found. Sighing, The Man With No Name decide to get to the point.

"Look I don't have time for this, Do you know a town I can get too or something".

Seeing this is getting him nowhere, The cowboy closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, Only to recoiled at the stench in the air.

The smelling of piss, Sweat, And Shit graced his nostrils.

The Good cowboy looked towards the culprits of the nasty smell. Obviously the boys weren't civilized, Almost all of them had nothing but a cloth for clothing and most of them only seem to have clubs and dull swords for weapons, Not a single firearm. However upon closer inspection, The Man With No Name seemed to notice that these fellers seemed...off.

They all were at least 7 foot tall, with big wide bellies full of who knows what, There hands were large and thick with sharp pointed fingernails. There head and face was a different story. At first glance they seem human...But at closer inspection reveals a different story.

There jaws had an underbite, That reveals two large snaggletooth's with excess saliva dripping out of the corners of their chin. Some of the things eyes ether had pupils or were all white. The ones that had pupils only seemed to have dirty brown or blood red. Most of them were bald or only had a mop growing on the back of there head, But for some reason they all had horns on those domes of there's.

'Those are fake...right?' The gunslinger thought to himself.

However there was one that was different from the others. He was taller than the rest of his friends, His body had a lot of scars and he had some leather padding on him. He wore a necklace that was nothing but bones and carried a large rigged sword that was sharp to the point unlike the rest of the boys.

'I'm guessing he's the leader of this wild bunch'. The American thought.

Our favorite gunslinger failed to realize the orcs started chattering with each other about the strangely dressed human in front of them. Having finally found the human, The band of orcs were disappointed of discovery with the human...more with it's gender than anything else. The orcs will have to wait on finding a female to ravage.

The orcs were quite surprised when the strange man didn't attack, Nor try to run when noticing the green skins. In Fact, He looked confused, And so were they. The band notice the strange attire the human wore. Wearing a strange brown hat and a brown cape was one thing, But the thing that really got their attention was the thing in his mouth that was slowly burning, The weird human seemed to inhale the smoke from the strange piece.

Snapping them back to reality, The man asked who they were and if they spoke Eostian.

Now realizing that the human has never seen an orc before which clears up why he didn't react to them, Which was odd.

But now he thinks they don't understand him, Which they did.

All creatures whether monster or humanoid understood the common tongue. Most spoke it, Even the damp Imps can speak it. However no one has ever referred to it as...English?

Seeing the human getting frustrated with them not responding, He starts to to examine them much more closely. But the Chieftain is losing his patience with the odd fool. Deciding to kill the human and feast on his flesh, The orc starts to grunt to his brothers.

They move in for the kill...only to stop dead in there tracks.

The humans hand hovered by his right thigh where a metal object is sheathed in, But that's not what stopped them. No, They stopped because of the...demon in front of them.

This...thing was giving the orcs the most threatening glare the savages have ever seen in there war-torn life. The Chieftain has seen many battles, His life was in death's grasp far to many times, Yet throughout his existence he never once showed fear...until now that is.

One of his kin was so shaken by this man, That he tripped on his own feet and did the impossible...land on his own sword. A brother died right before all them, By a glare...no, A squint.

'By the devils' The orc thought to himself.

The Man With No Name wasn't quite happy with these animals coming at him, Giving them his deadly squint seemed to do the trick. All of them stopped approaching him, Hell one them was so shocked that he fell on his own sword.

'Still got it' The gunslinger smiled to himself.

"Alright listen up because i'm not repeating this again, Leave, And you won't end up like your friend chubs over there"

The cowboy proclaimed all the while his right hand never leaving his holstered gun.

The leader not liking the name the bounty killer gave to his fallen kin, starts to bring out the wrath he and his men have been building up from the lost of there brother. Releasing a mighty roar, The orcs begin a charge.

...Only for all them to drop their weapons. Trying to covering their ears from the booming noise that came from the man's direction.

Slowly they all set their eyes back to the human...well some did.

Six green sons of bitches were face down on the ground dead, Thanks to the cowboys revolver. Spinning his weapon back in it's holster, The Man With No Name continued to look at these...beast. Noticing the leader looking at him, The cowboy looked right back.

'Damp it, Thought that would have scared them'

The Good cursed himself for wasting his only ammunition for his revolver.

'Shouldn't have put down the rifle, Speaking of the devil…'

Taking his eyes of the orc for just a second to locate his repeater. Spotting it about an arms length away.

If only the blonde gunslinger waited just one second more before taking his eyes away from his target, He would have seen a faint white light coming from his trusty friend.

Returning his eyes back to his enemy.

The cowboy lets out a surprise yelp when a un-suspect punch landed in his gut.

It launches The Man With No Name at least 60 feet away from the enraged orcs. Thankfully Lady luck was on his side as he flew through the air, Missing the trees by inches. Finally crashing into the hard earth and getting the wind knocked out of him in the process, The cowboy lets a an airless scream of pain. The air finally returning to his body, The Americano inhaled the largest breath he ever had, only to exhale immediately. Final getting oxygen to his lungs (who were very thankful) the gringo slowly starts to get up only to cough up blood.

'That's not good' the man thought.

'Must of broke something real important if I'm struggling to get up while coughing blood...at least it's not tuberculosis' the cowboy chuckles to himself remembering a young blonde fool from a famous gang who lost his life to the illness.

'Hopefully he found that redemption he was looking for...maybe if I get out of this I'll go searching for it too' The bounty killer thought.

Glancing back at the band he notice the leader had his chin held up high, With a proud look on his ugly face too, His right fist in the air indicating to be the one who sent the legend flying. His kin letting approving grunts and growls.

Any moment when there done celebrating their hero, They'll come over and finish him off.

'Well I guess this bizarre adventure ends here' the legend thought.

'Oh well, At least I got see my hair again'

the legend smiled hoping that his death would be quick.

...A white light started to shin.

And this time...the light caught the attention of The Man With No Name.

Looking towards the source, The blonde gunslinger was surprised to see that his best friend was releasing a small white light. Slowly reaching for his gun, The man grips his weapon and brings it for a closer look. Upon inspection, The man realizes that the white light is coming out of the 6 empty chambers from the guns cylinder. Slowly the Good moves his thumb over one of the chambers thats releasing the light...only for the light to disappear and replace with a fresh new bullet.

Shocked by this new discovery, The legends mind is flooded with questions.

Putting his thoughts aside, The hero aims his firearm towards the green ugly bastard that got him.

'If there is a God...please let this work'

Finally he pulled the trigger.

Only to bring a rare smile to his face from feeling the satisfying recoil and comforting noise.

Watching the Chieftain's head exploded all over his fans was just a bonus.

Blood and brain matter decorated his posse, All of whom whore in a state of shock. Worshiping there glorious leader only for him to fall right before their eyes was bound to freeze anyone...and of course the thundering noise from the pistol would also do it too.

Finally recovering, The orcs sent a mighty roar towards the heaven as they turn towards the cowboy with rage in their eyes. Charging full speed.

The Legend of the west gives a quick prayer as he does the same action but with all 6 chambers this time. The white lights fade as the cowboys uses his left hand to slam the hammer back while using his right hand to pull the trigger.

6 bullets left the barrel and 6 bodys layed dead.

Releasing a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding, Blondie smiles as his vision starts to blur.

Suddenly the gunslinger started to hear footsteps in the wood and faint voices in the distance.

"The loud noises came from over here" one of the voices said.

"Hey Hicks there's some dead orcs by the stream" another one said.

Finally one of the voices seemed to have found him.

"Holy shit you're still alive" the strange voice reveals himself to be none other than a man.

With hope in the cowboys droopy eyes, The legend gives the stranger a smirk and a nod with his aching head.

Wasting no time the stranger kneels next to the American as he hollers to his friends for help.

"We got an alive one over here, Hurry the fuck up and get a goddamn healer over here, Vult's gonna want to see this tough bastard" The stranger proclaimer in a colorful manner.

"Alright buddie, There's no need to worry now, Your gonna make it. Can you tell me who you are, Or anything to let me know your still with me" the man asked.

With a chuckle, The Man With No Name decide to go with a very wise answer he's been giving himself since the beginning of this bizarre adventure.

...

...

"Don't drink the whisky"

The cowboy whispered until finally losing consciousness.