Chapter I - Stone Cold Killer

A sound of metal clanging against the wooden floor could be heard if you listened closely. Then, the noise steadily increased in volume over a short period of time. The area itself was dark; only a few dimmed lights would flicker on and off at random, bearing the only light provided for the long hallway. Within this darkness, several men, dressed in black traditional samurai kimonos, lurked around the area. Their swords resting on ropes tied on their sides, the flickering light gleamed off of the shining blades.

These men didn't hear the metallic noise that was nearing them. It was somewhat ironic. Having little visibility meant that your other senses, especially hearing, are heightened. The noise grew closer. And closer. A few seconds later, it stopped. A few silent moments passed. One of the samurai walked around the corner on the east wing of the hallway, on his normal route, until a sharp slicing noise, followed by the samurai's own cry, reverberated in the area, creating a loud echo for the rest of the samurai to hear. By the time the other samurai ran to see the dead man's motionless body on the cold, wooden floor, they too would be sliced in the chest by an unknown blade, each of them falling onto their stomachs. They were all dead. The life in their eyes vanished as fast as the cloaked figure leaving the bloody sight.

The cloaked figure was swift, agile, faster than the samurai could even fathom. When one fell dead, another would too. His blade made effortless, fatal swings. Coating the wooden walls with their blood. That demonic blade wanted more blood. More sacrifices. The unknown man was so caught up in his slaughter than he barely realised that he was being pursued. He turned his head to the left to see five samurai sprinting besides him, swords drawn. It was the same for his right side.

He would leap forward while spinning rapidly, extending his sword in the process. Creating visible, green winds that slashed the men with brutal force. They were all sent back, crashing into the floor. The cloaked man, as sinister as he was, didn't even turn around to see if he was still being followed. There was no need to, anyway. The poison killed them all as soon as it touched them.

The silent killer stopped sprinting as he reached the end of the hallway. Still clutching his sword in his right hand, he shook it a little bit. The blood flung in all directions, covering the lights throughout the hall. Instead of a faint, white glow, the lights were now crimson red. A slight smile could be seen from the killer, as he had lowered his face mask, which was also covered in blood. He wouldn't bother cleaning himself off. There was too much work to do, far too much work.

He performed a single hand seal with his left hand, placing it on the wall. It was cold, like metal, even though it was wood. Perhaps he was feeling his own soul. He closed his eyes, sensing multiple sources of chakra ahead. Multiple sacrifices to eliminate. He'd suppress his own chakra, which kept him undetectable, just in case the samurai had sensory shinobi with them. He knew it didn't matter anyway. None of them could land a hit on him.

After he was sure that the samurai were, unknowingly, coming in his direction, he applied pressure to the wall, channeling pulverising waves of vibrations from his palm and fingertips. The wall exploded, sending splinters in all directions. The cloaked man stood there as the samurai drew their weapons.

"Who the hell-?!" one of them started. Fury was in his eyes. The cloaked killer noticed this flare in the young samurai's eyes, but it wasn't fury he saw. It was weakness. All of the samurai roared and charged at the man, but it was pointless. In a single instant, he would be behind all of them. One swift swing of his sword was made. Now they laid on the floor, life absent from their eyes.

The shadow-like murderer disappeared as the lights flickered off in unison. Darkness encompassed the area once more. Only a fool would assume his job was done. More samurai fell under his demonic sword. After one hallway was cleared, the next one was done away with as well. A half hour passed. The cloaked male had just killed the last samurai standing on this floor. He sighed with boredom, as if murdering hundreds of men was too tedious. Too monotonous. Lucky for him, he was finally going to get a real fight.

He widened his eyes before ducking, noticing a large blade just barely missing his neck. He couldn't predict what his assailant's next move was. He didn't even see him yet. Without warning, he was harshly kicked in the chest, sprawling backwards with a loud thud. He quickly bounded to the left. Once again, the sword barely missed him. It sliced off the top of his cloak, revealing his upper body. He gritted his teeth, jumping back while glaring in front of him.

A youthful male with spiky, white hair stood before him, one hand on his hip as his large sword was propped up on his shoulder. The male smirked. He wasn't wearing a samurai kimono, just a white poncho with torn, baggy, white pants.

"Well, look who it is.. I never expected to see you here, in the Dark Village... Ketsueki Kuraiya!" he said softly, his smirk widening.

The once cloaked killer also had a youthful face. His hair was crimson red, neck-lengthed, and covered his left eye. His sharp, violet-coloured pupil focused on the white-haired male. The man known as Ketsueki Kuraiya slowly stood up with no words. His grip on his demonic sword, Tsumi no Ken, tightened, as of with rage. With hatred. He knew who his opponent was: Gyatsō Mataba, the leader of the Hidden Dark Nation. The possessor of the godly Mūgetsu Shaolin dojutsu.

Gyatsō's pupils were crimson red, with two black lines intersecting over each other to form a cross. This was the Shaolin, the kekkei genkai of the extinct Taisega clan. It seems as if Gyatsō wouldn't activate the Mūgetsu until he needed to. Ketsueki noted this and rose Tsumi no Ken, pointing the blade at Gyatsō. Green mists formed around the tip of the blade.

"To ensure peace.. I will.. kill you.. Gyatsō Mataba...!" Ketsueki yelled. He rushed forward with a loud roar, his eyes burning with killing intent. His mission was simple. Eliminate Gyatsō.

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