Some of the words that are in Shiro's accent might be difficult to
understand so I'll translate the harder words. Ancouth = uncouth. That's
the only word I can think of that you might have a problem understanding.
If you have any more problems, tell me and I'll post it on the next
chapter.
Sweat dripped down from his body. He pulled a farmer's heavy cart for over two days with little rest. He accepted the task because the person seemed to be wealthy, but his temporary employer was also a huge buttload of annoyance who complained about his cooking and how he handled simple morning rituals and his attitude! Although he lacked religion, he, unlike the farmer, was civil! The prices in his mind tripled each day under the harsh labor. Finally, they reached the farmer's destination and he set down the cart. Hopefully, his job was over. "What else d'ya need?" Dateki Shiro tried not to groan or grumble as he spoke.
"Well, I heard that rouge ninja is around here," his temporary boss began in a business tone.
Knowing the thick-witted man never joked, Shiro said between clinched teeth, "I - dun't- fight- ninjas. Now, gimme my money."
"Ungrateful common ronin," the man muttered, reaching into his purse.
The pay was inadequate for his suffering, but being away from the irate farmer rewarded him perfectly. He arrived at the town's tavern and bought himself a bowlful of noodles and a bottle of sake. Then, he focused on other matters. If the rouge ninja was in the area, he needed to leave soon. Ninjas were by far more dangerous than samurai were and a rouge ninja was worse, but a job was needed for money and money was needed for food. His various ronin skills could be used where he was... Shiro shrugged off that worry. Being low on supplies was just another challenge and he survived troubles that were more difficult.
"Hey, whore!" he shouted out. When one of the women arrived, he put a handful of coins in her hand, "I'll give ya triple yer pay if you take a vacation from your job for a long time." She accepted and then, he asked a few men on a nearby table. "Is a rouge ninja in these parts?" he had not talked in so long and always said whatever happened to be in his mind.
"The one and only infamous scoundrel!" a man exclaimed.
The second man said, "He raided Sendai a few days ago. Used his tricks to steal food and then burned the place down!"
"Shit! Is that all he's a'capable of?"
"You dun't wanna challenge him," the first man warned.
"Hmph. Any group o'bandits can steal and burn." However, ninjas hide unseen in the trees - a tactic that made them more threatening than bandits or samurai. Shiro definitely had to leave soon while being low in money for supplies.
"Are you a ronin?" a third man asked.
"Yeah. A ronin with no need for a job here."
"Now, tell me, what's da difference between a reglar ronin and a ronin warrior. Sum crazy fool's tryin to revive that old legend again!"
Shiro smiled. He enjoyed a few jests before leaving, "Ah, ronin warrior! Their duty is the same, but the warriors eat better meals than the reglar ronins! But that's not all!"
"Oh?" Shiro got the attention of the audience.
"Instead of searching desp'rately for a spot with less rocks, the warriors' armors turn into completely furn'shed beds with fluffy pillows an' blankets!" He received several guffaws from the crowd and he surveyed the room for anyone who was offended. Everyone enjoyed his commentary. "An' the warriors' armors are so ancouth that ninjas mistake'em for trees!"
A trade ship from China prepared for its routine journey to Japan. The sailors hauled their boxed cargo on board and labeled the inventory according to price and ultimate destination.
"Be careful with this, Ashura," Mizu advised as he and some sailors gently dragged a large box into the boat. Mizu was the ship's captain who controlled the amount of cargo.
In a deep, resonant voice Karei Ashura inquired as he grabbed the rope used to pull the box into its area. "What makes that more special than the rest?" The inventory in the box was the first thing he was warned about, despite his numerous years of service.
"Well, aside from it being bought from a very wealthy lord in Japan, the stuff in that box is cursed!"
Curious, he asked, "How do you know it is cursed?" A few weeks ago, he received something that appeared to be of mystical value, but for what was it to be used? Was it connected with whatever was in the box?
"Cause it slices and dices everywhere it goes!" Mizu yelled.
His coworkers shouted at him to continue his job, so Ashura let the conversation drop. He wondered what exactly was so dangerous, but a combination of respect and fear prevented him from opening the box. When all the cargo was finally loaded on the ship, everyone went to sleep. The next day, the sailors spent all the hours sailing and maintaining the ship in the water. The day after that, he had the opportunity to ask Mizu more about the cursed merchandise, but by that time he forgot about the box until they unloaded their inventory into a Japanese harbor.
As usual, he handed the appropriate inventory to merchants and private buyers. Ashura realized that Lord Mitoma Hitomaro bought the mysterious piece cargo as he handed it over to a servant of the lord. "Excuse me if I am obtruding, but I am curious about the content of your lord's import. Rumor says that his import is cursed and I managed to learn that it originated elsewhere than China. I am mostly ignorant of this item and I am wondering if you have any information."
The servant chuckled. "Well, you'll just have to keep wondering. You know more than I do. The only curse to Lord Mitoma is his moneybag."
Only four armors needed bearers, Strata, Halo, Wildfire and Summer. Kaosu, also known as the Ancient One, contemplated who would receive the remaining armors. He narrowed down the choices to ten each for Halo, Summer and Strata. Wildfire had over forty choices.
Suddenly, two creatures, not human or any normal earth mortal entered his supernatural and spiritual sense. A Youja! The other creature seemed similar to White Blaze... The nine armors prevented Talpa from returning, but other Youja could come and go with leisure. Carefully, he picked up his staff and looked at his tiger who was near the door. White Blaze was attentive, ears pricked for better hearing. Kaosu opened the door silently and they both stepped outside to meet the arrivals.
A Youja and another tiger stood near the temple, but the two arrivals were not in battle stances. Their posture actually suggested that they came by merely for something like a friendly, beneficial visit.
"I intend you no harm," the Youja said. "My name is Lord Saberstryke. I am an enemy of Talpa and I want to discuss with you a means to kill him."
He relaxed his ridged hold on the staff and held it in front of himself like a walking stick. He sensed true intentions; the Youja could be trusted at least with that claim. "My name is Kaosu. Some people call me The Ancient One. We do not have much to discuss. The Ronin Warriors are the only ones who can defeat Talpa."
"I heard of another armor whose power is unsurpassed. The armor of Inferno."
"Interesting," Kaosu commented. "Please continue." If only one armor and one wearer was needed to battle and defeat Talpa, then the Ancient One could stop his search for people to be the Ronin Warriors and eight people would be spared the pain of fighting the Dynasty.
"I am searching for the armor. It may just be a hoax so I came to ask you if the armor exists."
"I never heard of the Inferno before now," he admitted, "but I am certain that there are relics in this world that I am unaware of. The armor of Inferno might exist, but it is not in Japan."
While they conversed about mystical armors, the two tigers walked a short distance away to have their own conversation. White Blaze had alot of eager inquires to calm his astonished mind.
"Greetings, Rekka," the new tiger said casually.
Never before sensing any of his same race, he was startled to hear a person of the same condition speak and even more surprised when he spoke as though accustomed to such a conversation.
"How many more of our kind are there? I thought I was the only one."
"As many as is possible, Rekka."
This time, he noticed the name. Dubious, he asked, "How do you know my human name?"
With head held high, the new tiger strolled in front of him, "You used to be a samurai. Then, became a monk of virtue. You also fought against the White armor of Inferno."
"How-" Who was this person? How did he know so much about his previous life? What was this person's reason for the transformation? "Who are you?"
"I am a prophet. I can predict the arrival of the Inferno."
The mere mention of the armor's awakening infuriated him. Long forgotten fears resurfaced. "What do you know about the White armor of Inferno?" he snapped, remembering the sensation of his own flesh peeling away from the intense heat and the tragic deaths of his friends...
"I know that Tekaku used all of his energy to kill the bearer of Inferno and died as a result. I know that your attempt to seal up the armor permanently failed pathetically." Then, the new tiger listed names that he did not recognize, but he understood the importance. "Over the past 400 years, the White Inferno traveled up from the Tauragi tribe into a country known as Egypt. Then, the Romans took it and eventually sold it to the Ottoman Empire. The empire sold it to India. From India, it became a procession of China."
"China!" That close to Japan! "Who owns it now?"
"I answered two of your questions and I want you to answer two of mine."
White Blaze suppressed a growl. The other tiger's smug, over-bearing attitude added to his barely controlled anger. "Very well."
"Will you kill whoever wears the Inferno?"
"Of course." That question was pointless. The Guardian of Virtue had to prevent anybody from acquiring the armor. He could not let anyone else suffer the same way that Tekaku and the others suffered.
"No matter who he is or what he is?" The newcomer's haughty voice nearly pushed him over the edge of restraint.
"Yes!" What was the point of this!?
"Oh, I'd LOVE to see you kill-"
White Blaze, thrust in a drunken rage, charged with fangs bared and claws extended. The other tiger jumped away, but not far enough and received a slight hurt. He leaped back again and, avoiding the rest of the attacks, taunted him. "The Ronin Warrior of Virtue will certainly die if you do not improve your skills."
White Blaze's fury increased as his blows became more erratic.
Suddenly something struck him and he fainted for a brief moment. When his rational mind and consciousness returned, he woke up five feet above the ground by a tangle of thick spider webs. He tentatively moved a paw to test the string's strength, but only entangled himself more in the web.
His black counterpart, in the same predicament, stared frightfully at the ground below and struggled to look at who trapped them. "What was that?" the other tiger screamed. They heard Kaosu thank their trapper and Saberstryke agreed although sounding uncertain. "What's going on?" Arrogance abandoned him.
"Well," White Blaze relaxed and replied, now understanding their entrapment, "This armor is definitely effective." They could not move their heads even slightly to see the bipedal people.
"Armor? This is the result of a ronin armor?"
"Perhaps we should just let them rest there until they calm down." Kaosu said and then unknowingly answered the question, "Lord Saberstryke, this is Jiguro the Ronin Warrior of Serenity."
Jiguro, uncertain what conclusions to make and slightly worried about the presence of a youja, said in a strangely casual tone, "Yes, I was talking over here to talk to the Ancient. Then, I noticed that they were fighting when they probably shouldn't be."
The youja replied, "I am afraid that Black Blaze provoked a quarrel. He has a tendency for aggression."
The Guardian of Virtue asked, startled, "Your name is Black Blaze?" Names were usually symbolic...
"You were not aware that you were born with a twin?" his smugness started to return.
White Blaze was thoroughly bewildered. 500 years of inactivity caused him to forget how confusing life could be.
"Hm, perhaps we should take them down now," Kaosu suggested.
"Please!" Black Blaze begged. He was shortly unaware that he was supposed to be indifferent.
"We need leashes though," he continued, oblivious to the tiger's pleading. "To prevent them from fighting again." Saberstryke agreed with his idea. "We could use the web. Is that okay with you?" he asked Jiguro.
"Certainly."
Examining the its strength, he said, "I originally intended for this to trap enemies and it has done a very good job."
As the three bipeds worked together to slash down all the unnecessary webbing, Saberstryke said to Kaosu, "There should be no need for the Ronin Warriors since Talpa is not yet planning another invasion."
"A few years ago, I sensed an approaching danger from the east. At first, I wondered if the danger was human like the Mongols, but it is different. It is definitely not human yet not like anything from the netherworld either. I am unable to fight this by myself so I need the Ronin Warriors to help me."
The entire local nobility gathered at Lord Mitoma's fanciful celebration. The best musicians played their songs as the aristocracy danced, ate the costly delicacies, merrily discussed their daily lives, and admired the high-priced tapestries and paintings from countries such as China, Korea, India, and Russia. Mitoma Hitomaro conversed with the older, sonless lords, trying to receive an arranged marriage between their daughters and himself. "What our lands need is unity," he said almost automatically. Through an arranged marriage, he would obtain more land and everything that came with it.
Only the host of the party knew the real reason for this event. Two hours into the festivities, their idle chatter and flowery comments became a bore. Such appraisal ceased to satisfy him. He obtained something unsurpassed for them to idolize.
"Now, everyone!" Hitomaro shouted in a booming voice. When their complete attention was directed at him, he announced proudly yet more calmly, "Lords and Ladies, I am unduly grateful that you enjoyed the delightful music and wonderful food. Just recently, I imported a relic of mystical value from China. Now, we shall witness our true cause for celebration." He commanded his servants with a simple hand gesture and the veil covering the tall object on the podium lifted up to reveal its secret. "I present to you, the Armor of Inferno!"
After an astonished silence, the audience applauded their approval, levitating his ego. Mystical armors were rare and his newest prized possession came from an unknown land beyond mere China. Its mysterious history magnified its supernatural quality. All of Japan would have understood how distinguished and extraordinary he was to own the Inferno.
"So that's the infamous Armor of Inferno," an undesired person sneered, leaning against the doorway of a balcony above the festivities. With a sinister gaze, he surveyed the people from his position.
The audience below him silenced, except for a few gasps and curses. They mentally braced themselves for an assault. What new horror did he bring with him? The archers aimed their weapons at him, but did not fire. Perhaps Lord Nezumi, his master, was using him as decoy to detract attention from the real assassin who would kill lord Mitoma.
Hitomaro suppressed his previously apparent fear and feigned a calm composure, "Greetings, Hariel. What brings you here to my celebration?"
"Shut up." Glaring at them with his eerie blue eyes, he received immediate obedience. "Stop worrying. I won't kill you. Life is so cheap that I quit my old job."
The shock began to wear off so Hitomaro asked bluntly, "What is your business here?"
"I came to see the armor." The lord wanted to demand why, but his throat swelled up with fright so he endured the ninja's taunts. "I never expected you to really get an armor. Are you sure it's mystical and not just painted? Chinese artisans are really good at fooling people. Perhaps it is simply a collection of jewels and pretty materials. If Inferno's really mystical, wear it."
His face paled a few shades. The armor was cursed! Or so legend said, but the chance was not worth tempting. All the lords and ladies... the ENTIRE nobility witnessed his inadequacy to fend off a mere ninja. They believed him to be a liar, a beggar! That was worse than the curse! Hitomaro was unable to prove his claim, but he recovered a fraction of his wits, "What need do I have to protect a worthless junk pile? And I tell you this: If you wish to obtain the Armor of Inferno, my soldiers will kill you instantly!"
Hariel's smug expression did not change, but he realized extra caution was necessary. A heavy patrol of guards would protect the Inferno constantly. Lying was against Hitomaro's code of honor. His impetuous introduction revoked an easy robbery.
Sweat dripped down from his body. He pulled a farmer's heavy cart for over two days with little rest. He accepted the task because the person seemed to be wealthy, but his temporary employer was also a huge buttload of annoyance who complained about his cooking and how he handled simple morning rituals and his attitude! Although he lacked religion, he, unlike the farmer, was civil! The prices in his mind tripled each day under the harsh labor. Finally, they reached the farmer's destination and he set down the cart. Hopefully, his job was over. "What else d'ya need?" Dateki Shiro tried not to groan or grumble as he spoke.
"Well, I heard that rouge ninja is around here," his temporary boss began in a business tone.
Knowing the thick-witted man never joked, Shiro said between clinched teeth, "I - dun't- fight- ninjas. Now, gimme my money."
"Ungrateful common ronin," the man muttered, reaching into his purse.
The pay was inadequate for his suffering, but being away from the irate farmer rewarded him perfectly. He arrived at the town's tavern and bought himself a bowlful of noodles and a bottle of sake. Then, he focused on other matters. If the rouge ninja was in the area, he needed to leave soon. Ninjas were by far more dangerous than samurai were and a rouge ninja was worse, but a job was needed for money and money was needed for food. His various ronin skills could be used where he was... Shiro shrugged off that worry. Being low on supplies was just another challenge and he survived troubles that were more difficult.
"Hey, whore!" he shouted out. When one of the women arrived, he put a handful of coins in her hand, "I'll give ya triple yer pay if you take a vacation from your job for a long time." She accepted and then, he asked a few men on a nearby table. "Is a rouge ninja in these parts?" he had not talked in so long and always said whatever happened to be in his mind.
"The one and only infamous scoundrel!" a man exclaimed.
The second man said, "He raided Sendai a few days ago. Used his tricks to steal food and then burned the place down!"
"Shit! Is that all he's a'capable of?"
"You dun't wanna challenge him," the first man warned.
"Hmph. Any group o'bandits can steal and burn." However, ninjas hide unseen in the trees - a tactic that made them more threatening than bandits or samurai. Shiro definitely had to leave soon while being low in money for supplies.
"Are you a ronin?" a third man asked.
"Yeah. A ronin with no need for a job here."
"Now, tell me, what's da difference between a reglar ronin and a ronin warrior. Sum crazy fool's tryin to revive that old legend again!"
Shiro smiled. He enjoyed a few jests before leaving, "Ah, ronin warrior! Their duty is the same, but the warriors eat better meals than the reglar ronins! But that's not all!"
"Oh?" Shiro got the attention of the audience.
"Instead of searching desp'rately for a spot with less rocks, the warriors' armors turn into completely furn'shed beds with fluffy pillows an' blankets!" He received several guffaws from the crowd and he surveyed the room for anyone who was offended. Everyone enjoyed his commentary. "An' the warriors' armors are so ancouth that ninjas mistake'em for trees!"
A trade ship from China prepared for its routine journey to Japan. The sailors hauled their boxed cargo on board and labeled the inventory according to price and ultimate destination.
"Be careful with this, Ashura," Mizu advised as he and some sailors gently dragged a large box into the boat. Mizu was the ship's captain who controlled the amount of cargo.
In a deep, resonant voice Karei Ashura inquired as he grabbed the rope used to pull the box into its area. "What makes that more special than the rest?" The inventory in the box was the first thing he was warned about, despite his numerous years of service.
"Well, aside from it being bought from a very wealthy lord in Japan, the stuff in that box is cursed!"
Curious, he asked, "How do you know it is cursed?" A few weeks ago, he received something that appeared to be of mystical value, but for what was it to be used? Was it connected with whatever was in the box?
"Cause it slices and dices everywhere it goes!" Mizu yelled.
His coworkers shouted at him to continue his job, so Ashura let the conversation drop. He wondered what exactly was so dangerous, but a combination of respect and fear prevented him from opening the box. When all the cargo was finally loaded on the ship, everyone went to sleep. The next day, the sailors spent all the hours sailing and maintaining the ship in the water. The day after that, he had the opportunity to ask Mizu more about the cursed merchandise, but by that time he forgot about the box until they unloaded their inventory into a Japanese harbor.
As usual, he handed the appropriate inventory to merchants and private buyers. Ashura realized that Lord Mitoma Hitomaro bought the mysterious piece cargo as he handed it over to a servant of the lord. "Excuse me if I am obtruding, but I am curious about the content of your lord's import. Rumor says that his import is cursed and I managed to learn that it originated elsewhere than China. I am mostly ignorant of this item and I am wondering if you have any information."
The servant chuckled. "Well, you'll just have to keep wondering. You know more than I do. The only curse to Lord Mitoma is his moneybag."
Only four armors needed bearers, Strata, Halo, Wildfire and Summer. Kaosu, also known as the Ancient One, contemplated who would receive the remaining armors. He narrowed down the choices to ten each for Halo, Summer and Strata. Wildfire had over forty choices.
Suddenly, two creatures, not human or any normal earth mortal entered his supernatural and spiritual sense. A Youja! The other creature seemed similar to White Blaze... The nine armors prevented Talpa from returning, but other Youja could come and go with leisure. Carefully, he picked up his staff and looked at his tiger who was near the door. White Blaze was attentive, ears pricked for better hearing. Kaosu opened the door silently and they both stepped outside to meet the arrivals.
A Youja and another tiger stood near the temple, but the two arrivals were not in battle stances. Their posture actually suggested that they came by merely for something like a friendly, beneficial visit.
"I intend you no harm," the Youja said. "My name is Lord Saberstryke. I am an enemy of Talpa and I want to discuss with you a means to kill him."
He relaxed his ridged hold on the staff and held it in front of himself like a walking stick. He sensed true intentions; the Youja could be trusted at least with that claim. "My name is Kaosu. Some people call me The Ancient One. We do not have much to discuss. The Ronin Warriors are the only ones who can defeat Talpa."
"I heard of another armor whose power is unsurpassed. The armor of Inferno."
"Interesting," Kaosu commented. "Please continue." If only one armor and one wearer was needed to battle and defeat Talpa, then the Ancient One could stop his search for people to be the Ronin Warriors and eight people would be spared the pain of fighting the Dynasty.
"I am searching for the armor. It may just be a hoax so I came to ask you if the armor exists."
"I never heard of the Inferno before now," he admitted, "but I am certain that there are relics in this world that I am unaware of. The armor of Inferno might exist, but it is not in Japan."
While they conversed about mystical armors, the two tigers walked a short distance away to have their own conversation. White Blaze had alot of eager inquires to calm his astonished mind.
"Greetings, Rekka," the new tiger said casually.
Never before sensing any of his same race, he was startled to hear a person of the same condition speak and even more surprised when he spoke as though accustomed to such a conversation.
"How many more of our kind are there? I thought I was the only one."
"As many as is possible, Rekka."
This time, he noticed the name. Dubious, he asked, "How do you know my human name?"
With head held high, the new tiger strolled in front of him, "You used to be a samurai. Then, became a monk of virtue. You also fought against the White armor of Inferno."
"How-" Who was this person? How did he know so much about his previous life? What was this person's reason for the transformation? "Who are you?"
"I am a prophet. I can predict the arrival of the Inferno."
The mere mention of the armor's awakening infuriated him. Long forgotten fears resurfaced. "What do you know about the White armor of Inferno?" he snapped, remembering the sensation of his own flesh peeling away from the intense heat and the tragic deaths of his friends...
"I know that Tekaku used all of his energy to kill the bearer of Inferno and died as a result. I know that your attempt to seal up the armor permanently failed pathetically." Then, the new tiger listed names that he did not recognize, but he understood the importance. "Over the past 400 years, the White Inferno traveled up from the Tauragi tribe into a country known as Egypt. Then, the Romans took it and eventually sold it to the Ottoman Empire. The empire sold it to India. From India, it became a procession of China."
"China!" That close to Japan! "Who owns it now?"
"I answered two of your questions and I want you to answer two of mine."
White Blaze suppressed a growl. The other tiger's smug, over-bearing attitude added to his barely controlled anger. "Very well."
"Will you kill whoever wears the Inferno?"
"Of course." That question was pointless. The Guardian of Virtue had to prevent anybody from acquiring the armor. He could not let anyone else suffer the same way that Tekaku and the others suffered.
"No matter who he is or what he is?" The newcomer's haughty voice nearly pushed him over the edge of restraint.
"Yes!" What was the point of this!?
"Oh, I'd LOVE to see you kill-"
White Blaze, thrust in a drunken rage, charged with fangs bared and claws extended. The other tiger jumped away, but not far enough and received a slight hurt. He leaped back again and, avoiding the rest of the attacks, taunted him. "The Ronin Warrior of Virtue will certainly die if you do not improve your skills."
White Blaze's fury increased as his blows became more erratic.
Suddenly something struck him and he fainted for a brief moment. When his rational mind and consciousness returned, he woke up five feet above the ground by a tangle of thick spider webs. He tentatively moved a paw to test the string's strength, but only entangled himself more in the web.
His black counterpart, in the same predicament, stared frightfully at the ground below and struggled to look at who trapped them. "What was that?" the other tiger screamed. They heard Kaosu thank their trapper and Saberstryke agreed although sounding uncertain. "What's going on?" Arrogance abandoned him.
"Well," White Blaze relaxed and replied, now understanding their entrapment, "This armor is definitely effective." They could not move their heads even slightly to see the bipedal people.
"Armor? This is the result of a ronin armor?"
"Perhaps we should just let them rest there until they calm down." Kaosu said and then unknowingly answered the question, "Lord Saberstryke, this is Jiguro the Ronin Warrior of Serenity."
Jiguro, uncertain what conclusions to make and slightly worried about the presence of a youja, said in a strangely casual tone, "Yes, I was talking over here to talk to the Ancient. Then, I noticed that they were fighting when they probably shouldn't be."
The youja replied, "I am afraid that Black Blaze provoked a quarrel. He has a tendency for aggression."
The Guardian of Virtue asked, startled, "Your name is Black Blaze?" Names were usually symbolic...
"You were not aware that you were born with a twin?" his smugness started to return.
White Blaze was thoroughly bewildered. 500 years of inactivity caused him to forget how confusing life could be.
"Hm, perhaps we should take them down now," Kaosu suggested.
"Please!" Black Blaze begged. He was shortly unaware that he was supposed to be indifferent.
"We need leashes though," he continued, oblivious to the tiger's pleading. "To prevent them from fighting again." Saberstryke agreed with his idea. "We could use the web. Is that okay with you?" he asked Jiguro.
"Certainly."
Examining the its strength, he said, "I originally intended for this to trap enemies and it has done a very good job."
As the three bipeds worked together to slash down all the unnecessary webbing, Saberstryke said to Kaosu, "There should be no need for the Ronin Warriors since Talpa is not yet planning another invasion."
"A few years ago, I sensed an approaching danger from the east. At first, I wondered if the danger was human like the Mongols, but it is different. It is definitely not human yet not like anything from the netherworld either. I am unable to fight this by myself so I need the Ronin Warriors to help me."
The entire local nobility gathered at Lord Mitoma's fanciful celebration. The best musicians played their songs as the aristocracy danced, ate the costly delicacies, merrily discussed their daily lives, and admired the high-priced tapestries and paintings from countries such as China, Korea, India, and Russia. Mitoma Hitomaro conversed with the older, sonless lords, trying to receive an arranged marriage between their daughters and himself. "What our lands need is unity," he said almost automatically. Through an arranged marriage, he would obtain more land and everything that came with it.
Only the host of the party knew the real reason for this event. Two hours into the festivities, their idle chatter and flowery comments became a bore. Such appraisal ceased to satisfy him. He obtained something unsurpassed for them to idolize.
"Now, everyone!" Hitomaro shouted in a booming voice. When their complete attention was directed at him, he announced proudly yet more calmly, "Lords and Ladies, I am unduly grateful that you enjoyed the delightful music and wonderful food. Just recently, I imported a relic of mystical value from China. Now, we shall witness our true cause for celebration." He commanded his servants with a simple hand gesture and the veil covering the tall object on the podium lifted up to reveal its secret. "I present to you, the Armor of Inferno!"
After an astonished silence, the audience applauded their approval, levitating his ego. Mystical armors were rare and his newest prized possession came from an unknown land beyond mere China. Its mysterious history magnified its supernatural quality. All of Japan would have understood how distinguished and extraordinary he was to own the Inferno.
"So that's the infamous Armor of Inferno," an undesired person sneered, leaning against the doorway of a balcony above the festivities. With a sinister gaze, he surveyed the people from his position.
The audience below him silenced, except for a few gasps and curses. They mentally braced themselves for an assault. What new horror did he bring with him? The archers aimed their weapons at him, but did not fire. Perhaps Lord Nezumi, his master, was using him as decoy to detract attention from the real assassin who would kill lord Mitoma.
Hitomaro suppressed his previously apparent fear and feigned a calm composure, "Greetings, Hariel. What brings you here to my celebration?"
"Shut up." Glaring at them with his eerie blue eyes, he received immediate obedience. "Stop worrying. I won't kill you. Life is so cheap that I quit my old job."
The shock began to wear off so Hitomaro asked bluntly, "What is your business here?"
"I came to see the armor." The lord wanted to demand why, but his throat swelled up with fright so he endured the ninja's taunts. "I never expected you to really get an armor. Are you sure it's mystical and not just painted? Chinese artisans are really good at fooling people. Perhaps it is simply a collection of jewels and pretty materials. If Inferno's really mystical, wear it."
His face paled a few shades. The armor was cursed! Or so legend said, but the chance was not worth tempting. All the lords and ladies... the ENTIRE nobility witnessed his inadequacy to fend off a mere ninja. They believed him to be a liar, a beggar! That was worse than the curse! Hitomaro was unable to prove his claim, but he recovered a fraction of his wits, "What need do I have to protect a worthless junk pile? And I tell you this: If you wish to obtain the Armor of Inferno, my soldiers will kill you instantly!"
Hariel's smug expression did not change, but he realized extra caution was necessary. A heavy patrol of guards would protect the Inferno constantly. Lying was against Hitomaro's code of honor. His impetuous introduction revoked an easy robbery.