The Russian Samurai
Mongolia, 50 Miles from the Russian border.
A lone warrior from the land of Mother Russia was hiking his way back home. It's been a long time since he's set his eyes on his homeland. He was only a few months old when he was smuggled out of Russia. He could remember the stories told by his servants of Ivan the Terrible. Things were still unstable at his homeland. But after hearing the news, he had no choice but to come back.
For the last few months upon reaching the shores of Korea, the man immediately set foot towards his homeland of Russia. The man carried one weapon with him, a katana presented by his sensei. It was a long and exhausting journey for this young noble warrior. He didn't carry any money with him. All he carried were prototype twin pistols that could each hold six rounds, his katana, and a prototype rifle.
It was getting late in the day; but, the sun was still shining. The sun shined a bright orange-red. All he wore were brown leather boots with straps, brown pants, and a long brown vest. He had metal bands around his wrists, a necklace that symbolized his birth right, and prototype shades made out of special lenses to protect his eyes from the harsh sunlight. He wore a cloak made out of cloths to protect his body from the sun.
He had to make it to shelter before nightfall. Quickly, the young warrior made haste to find shelter. On his way to find shelter, he looked around and scavenged branches, plants, and other things to start a campfire.
"There, everything I need to start a campfire.", the man said to himself. The next thing was to find food. Carrying his things, he continued to make his way. He then took a few breaths before pausing in his tracks as he removed a leather pouch from his side. Popping the top, he placed the pouch to his mouth and took several sips of water.
He continued his path as he heard horses close by. The riders made their way as they spotted the man. They quickly rode towards the man. Circling around him, the riders stopped as they hopped off their horses.
"What do we have here?", one of the riders asked as he circled around the man. The man was dressed like a desert bandit.
The man knew that they were bandits. He didn't want to shed any blood nor get into a confrontation. But, he did not want to yield to bandits either.
"Trespassing, eh?", another one asked.
The man calmly stood there as the bandits got one good look at him. "I don't want to fight, comrades", he said in his Russian accent.
"We don't want to fight, either", said a bandit as he looked at the man's things. He continued, "well, we'll leave you alone if you give us your things."
"Yeah, think of it as tax.", said another bandit.
"I can't do that.", the man said to the bandits. He would not yield to these desert bandits. What he also realized that these bandits wouldn't yield, either.
"Then we can't let you live.", said the leader of the group. "Kill him", the leader added as he signaled his men.
The first bandit drew a curved blade as he charged towards the Russian with a charging thrust.
"Not wise, comrade", the man replied to the bandit. Swiftly, the man sidestepped to the right as the bandit charged passed him. Slightly, he stuck his right foot out tripping the bandit.
"Whaaaaaaaaa", the bandit replied as he lost balance. His eyes grew wide open as he could feel something strike the back of his neck.
Moments after tripping the bandit, the Russian struck the back of the head with his elbow. Hitting the ground, the bandit laid there unconscious. Keeping his eyes on the group, he waited for the next one to strike.
"Get him!", the leader yelled.
Another bandit drew his blade and charged towards the Russian warrior. Instead of a thrust, he went for a vertical attack. It was sloppy and he could see through it.
"Not good enough", the warrior said to the bandit. Immediately, he used both hands and grabbed the bandit's wrist. Using the bandit's momentum, he tossed him to the other side. Gently kicking the bandit, he rendered him unconscious.
Another two decided to take him from both sides. One bandit charged from behind only to have a powerful back thrust kick connected with his face. The one in front had a powerful uppercut connected with his chin. Four bandits on the ground so far.
The only one left standing was the leader of the bandits. Drawing his sword, the leader charged at the man.
"Tell me your name", the bandit said to the Russian fighter.
The Russian stood there. "If you insist. I am Mishka Dotsenko of Mother Russia", he replied to the leader.
"Very well, Mishka", the leader said to him; "I will remember your name; Mishka Dotsenko", he continued. He then attacked with a vertical downward slash.
Immediately, Mishka stepped back and drew his katana. With a matter of seconds, Mishka held his katana upwards. He effortlessly blocked the bandit's attack. Afterwards, Mishka quickly spun around in a circle and attacked with a powerful spinning hook kick.
"Ugggghhhhhh.", the bandit let out as the heel of Mishka's right foot connected with his chin. Flying back, he hit the ground, and rolled back several times. The leader would not give up. Slowly, the bandit helped himself up. Immediately, he charged with several slashes.
Effortlessly, Mishka held his blade up, then to the left, downward, upwards, and to the right. Quickly, Mishka held the tip of his blade an inch away from the bandit's neck. The leader stopped dead in his tracks.
Slowly, Mishka retracted his blade and placed it back in his hilt. The leader tried to capitalize by another downward slash.
Calmly, Mishka stepped back as he jumped up and launched a flying knee thrust to the man's face. All five men were knocked unconscious. Mishka's job was done as he approached the horses. He left only one horse loaded. The man had compassion for the bandits.
Picking a horse, Mishka loaded it up. He slowly helped himself on the horse and started to ride towards the border. It soon got to be night. The horse laid there asleep as Mishka was finishing off the last of the animal he managed to kill and roasted over the fire.
Looking up at the stars, Mishka laid there and used his cloak as a blanket. He constantly wondered what it would be like to actually see his homeland. Mishka couldn't sleep at all. The young Russian warrior wanted to see his homeland so badly.
"Brother, I wish I could have the chance to see you...", he said to himself. Mishka had a brother and a sister. The two of them stayed with loyal friends while Mishka was smuggled out of Russia. "Mother... Father... Is it true? That you were both murdered?", he continued to talk to himself.
It was a cool night in the desert. His journey was extremely difficult, especially having to cross through the Gobi Desert and its cruel freezing winds. If it wasn't for the letter about his brother's death, Mishka would've remained in Japan. Mishka could remember his past.
He had traveled to Siam, China, and then Japan. Mishka picked up their fighting styles. One of them was the powerful Siamese fighting art which would be called 'Muay Thai' later on. He learned some of the Chinese styles of combat and then learned Japanese Bushido and Jiu-Jitsu.
During his time in Japan, he heard of a legendary samurai mercenary known as Heishiro Mitsurugi, who wanted to find a weapon that could combat the Taganeshima rifle. From the stories about Mitsurugi, Mishka learned of a demonic weapon known as the Soul Edge.
His master could tell him stories about how the weapon's inherited evil aura could drive the purest soul into insanity and blood lust. Even a small shard of the blade could drive a person to be evil. He had also learned about how the blade managed to destroy cities, villages, and fortresses.
"I must return to Mother Russia...", he said, sitting upwards and clenching his right fist. Mishka would have to make it back home if the wielder of the Soul Edge ever made his way towards Russia. He now had two goals, to keep the Soul Edge or its shards from appearing in Russia and to avenge his family.
His heart was rapidly beating as he continued to think about the whole picture. "I'm not in the mood to sleep", he said to himself. Slowly, Mishka got to his feet. "I guess it is best to use my energy constructively", continuing on.
Taking a few deep breaths, Mishka stood by the fire and started to practice. Clenching his left fist, Mishka moved it back for a second and executed a powerful left hook. Clenching his right first, Mishka did the same thing. Repeating these punches over again, Mishka kept on making them more powerful.
"Let's try something different", he said as he got into his stance again. Mishka knew that if he managed to combine techniques, he would be a formidible fighter. Swinging his left fist forward, he executed a powerful left hook. Instead of bringing it back, he continued to let it swing as he twisted his whole body. He spun in a 360 degree circle and executed a powerful spinning backfist.
He was pretty impressed with himself. Mishka was very muscular. He stood there at 6'3 and 235 pounds. The rest of his sparring partners were much shorter and skinnier. But, looks weren't everything. Mishka had to be strong, fast, and agile.
Mishka slowly moved back to his stance as he quickly lifted his right leg up and quickly brought the heel of the foot down. He could remember how he ended up hurting himself numerous times practicing that move. The man could now crush bricks with the heel of his foot. This was a very dangerous move. Many men went against Mishka. Using that move, he sent most of the attackers to the doctors. The rest were dead.
"Again...", saying to himself as he executed another axe kick. It was a move that he constantly had to practice or it would lose effectiveness. Spinning his body around, Mishka tried the spinning axe kick. It was more devastating than the regular axe kick. As his heel hit the ground, sand flew around.
Some of it hit the horse in the face, who just moved it's face around and sneezed. Mishka looked back at his horse and laughed. "I'm sorry, comrade. It was inconsiderate of me", he said apologizing to the horse. He felt that it was enough practicing that move.
Lifting his knee up, Mishka executed several roundhouse kicks and spun around, delivering a powerful spinning hook kick. He wasn't satisfied yet. Mishka executed the move again. The man felt the need to constantly practice and get better. The horse had enough of it as he started to make a loud grunt.
"I guess you're right", Mishka said, looking at the horse. Going back to the campfire, Mishka laid back down and wrapped himself in the cloak. He would need the energy for the next day. Mishka had to get back to Russia as soon as possible. He was almost at the border. It was a long way towards his home from Mongolia.
Three Days Later
Mishka was almost at the border. He just needed another half-day to make it there. "I'm almost home...", he said to himself. Immediately, he pulled the string back and signaled the horse to stop. Mishka caught something in the corner of his eye. He pointed the direction for the horse as they quickly rode towards that area.
"This is not good, eh comrade...", Mishka said to his new horse companion. A caravan was being attacked by bandits. Several dead bodies laid there. The rest of the travelers were screaming and running. "Oi, more bandits...", he continued. Reaching for the back, Mishka quickly pulled the rifle with scope outwards. It was a special rifle he invented. The weapon was one of a kind.
Gripping it, Mishka opened it up and loaded a ball bearing inside the chamber and closed it shut a second later. Looking through the scope, Mishka selected the closest target. Steadily, the man placed his finger on the trigger and gently squeezed the trigger.
He picked well. The target was a bandit who was getting ready to rape a young girl. "Ahhh, get away!", the girl yelled as she crawled backward away from the bandit.
"You wench, you will be mine...", replied the bandit as he advanced towards her. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks as he felt a sharp pain shoot into his back and out his chest. Looking down, he could see blood dripping down his chest. Slowly, he looked at the terrified girl. Turning around, he got a good look at Mishka who quickly loaded another round into his rifle.
Coughing blood, the bandit fell to the ground. Closing his eyes, the bandit laid there dead. Picking another bandit, Mishka pulled the trigger and sent another round flying. This time, he killed another bandit who was pulling a woman by the hair. Feeling the pain of the round, the bandit immediately released the woman.
The rest of the bandits immediately saw Mishka charging to the rescue. What were left of the bandits charged towards Mishka, who holstered his rifle and drew his prototype twin six-shooters from his side holsters. Pulling both triggers. Mishka killed two more bandits.
Quickly, he holstered his firearms and leaped off his horse. The bandits looked at Mishka and charged at the Russian warrior.
"Dragon Dawn!", Mishka yelled as he immediately drew his katana known as the 'Dragon Dawn'. Drawing his sword, he blocked and deflected the attack by one of the bandits. With a horizontal slash to the right, Mishka cut the bandit's abdomen open.
The bandit laid there dead with his guts spilling out on the ground. Mishka wasn't done yet. Neither were the bandits. They wouldn't yield. Instead they wanted revenge on Mishka for killing five of their men. Running forward, Mishka impaled and pulled back his katana from another bandit.
Backing away, Mishka avoided the next attack and executed a downward slash. He could see the bandit's forearm drop to the ground. It was immediately severed. The bandit fell to his knees screaming in pain. Mishka felt sorry and granted him a quick death. With a quick swipe, the bandit's head fell to the ground.
"Now... You would like to join them, comrades?", Mishka asked. The bandits looked around to see many of their men slain.
"I'll kill you!", yelled another bandit, only to be met with a blade through his heart. "Ugggghghhhhhhh...", the bandit cringed in pain as he started to cough up blood.
"Who's next?", Mishka asked, still holding his katana. Immediately, he sheathed his sword. He kept his eyes on the bandits. "I'll make this easier for you all".
Seeing Mishka unarmed, two bandits decided to try and make a quick kill out of him. "Not nice, trying to attack an unarmed man", he replied to the bandits. Quickly, the man lifted his right leg up and quickly dropped the heel of it downwards. The heel quickly connected with the top of the man's head. His skull was cracked open as blood started to seep from the eye sockets.
The man laid there dead. The other bandit attacked with a running thrust. Mishka saw that and spun his body around and performed his spinning axe kick as it connected with the right shoulder blade. Moments later, the bandit dropped his sword and held his shoulder in pain.
"Who is next?", Mishka asked as he quickly put his fists up. There were four bandits left. Looking to see their fallen comrades, they immediately ran away with their tails in between their legs. As the bandits left, Mishka examined the dead bodies of the other bandits taking what valuables and supplies he could find.
"Thank you, friend", said an elder man as he approached Mishka. "Tell me, what's is your name", he replied to the warrior.
"I am Mishka. Mishka Dotsenko", Mishka replied as he walked back towards his horse.
"Where are you headed to, Mishka?", the man asked.
Slowly, Mishka turned and faced the man. "I have returning towards Mother Russia. I came as far as from the island known as Japan".
"We're headed there ourselves. You can join us if you like", the man offered.
"Thank you, I'll take you on your offer. Those bandits will be back", Mishka replied as he took the man up on his offer.
"At last, back to Mother Russia", Mishka said as he looked up to the sky. Maybe these travelers might know of the weapon known as the Soul Edge, he thought to himself.
Later That Night.
"What brings you back to Russia?", the caravan leader asked Mishka as they shared some fine wine.
"I was smuggled out of Russia when I was only a few months old", Mishka replied to the kind old man. He continued, "Ivan the Terrible ordered the execution of my parents". "They found out that I was smuggled. We made it to Siam, then mercenaries came wanting to kill me. We moved to China. There was a war going on and we took refuge in Japan."
"Quite an interesting life you have there.", the man replied to Mishka.
"I trained in the Siamese, Chinese, and Japanese arts", Mishka told the man.
"Why come back to Russia?", the man asked Mishka.
Mishka tood up and took out the Dragon Dawn as he elegantly swung it around. Practicing his European sword techniques before switching to Chinese blade techniques. Afterwards, he placed it back inside the sheath.
Mishka then faced the man. "My brother was murdered by a jealous suitor.", he replied to the man. "I will make them pay.", Mishka continued as he practiced a backflip kick. Upon landing on the ground, he executed a spinning crescent kick followed by a spinning footsweep.
The man clapped his hands. "I'm impressed by your skills, friend", he replied to Mishka.
"I have a question to ask you.", Mishka told the man, with his eyes gazed on the burning fire. He could recall what he saw when he was only a few months old. Everything was burned to the ground.
"Do ask, Mishka", the man replied.
"Since you are travelers, can tell me what you know of the Soul Edge?", Mishka asked the old man.
"I can tell you a lot. Some say it's the sword of salvation and others call it the sword of damnation. But, it's the sword of damnation. The blade is said to drive men insane. Causing the rain of evil with its aura. It has destroyed and taken so many lives", he replied to Mishka's question.
"I see, I've heard many rumors of the cursed blade from my sensei", Mishka replied to the man.
"It leaves a path of destruction, my friend", he sternly said to Mishka.
"I know, I don't want to know what would happen if these people get their hands on this weapon", Mishka said to the man.
Mongolia, 50 Miles from the Russian border.
A lone warrior from the land of Mother Russia was hiking his way back home. It's been a long time since he's set his eyes on his homeland. He was only a few months old when he was smuggled out of Russia. He could remember the stories told by his servants of Ivan the Terrible. Things were still unstable at his homeland. But after hearing the news, he had no choice but to come back.
For the last few months upon reaching the shores of Korea, the man immediately set foot towards his homeland of Russia. The man carried one weapon with him, a katana presented by his sensei. It was a long and exhausting journey for this young noble warrior. He didn't carry any money with him. All he carried were prototype twin pistols that could each hold six rounds, his katana, and a prototype rifle.
It was getting late in the day; but, the sun was still shining. The sun shined a bright orange-red. All he wore were brown leather boots with straps, brown pants, and a long brown vest. He had metal bands around his wrists, a necklace that symbolized his birth right, and prototype shades made out of special lenses to protect his eyes from the harsh sunlight. He wore a cloak made out of cloths to protect his body from the sun.
He had to make it to shelter before nightfall. Quickly, the young warrior made haste to find shelter. On his way to find shelter, he looked around and scavenged branches, plants, and other things to start a campfire.
"There, everything I need to start a campfire.", the man said to himself. The next thing was to find food. Carrying his things, he continued to make his way. He then took a few breaths before pausing in his tracks as he removed a leather pouch from his side. Popping the top, he placed the pouch to his mouth and took several sips of water.
He continued his path as he heard horses close by. The riders made their way as they spotted the man. They quickly rode towards the man. Circling around him, the riders stopped as they hopped off their horses.
"What do we have here?", one of the riders asked as he circled around the man. The man was dressed like a desert bandit.
The man knew that they were bandits. He didn't want to shed any blood nor get into a confrontation. But, he did not want to yield to bandits either.
"Trespassing, eh?", another one asked.
The man calmly stood there as the bandits got one good look at him. "I don't want to fight, comrades", he said in his Russian accent.
"We don't want to fight, either", said a bandit as he looked at the man's things. He continued, "well, we'll leave you alone if you give us your things."
"Yeah, think of it as tax.", said another bandit.
"I can't do that.", the man said to the bandits. He would not yield to these desert bandits. What he also realized that these bandits wouldn't yield, either.
"Then we can't let you live.", said the leader of the group. "Kill him", the leader added as he signaled his men.
The first bandit drew a curved blade as he charged towards the Russian with a charging thrust.
"Not wise, comrade", the man replied to the bandit. Swiftly, the man sidestepped to the right as the bandit charged passed him. Slightly, he stuck his right foot out tripping the bandit.
"Whaaaaaaaaa", the bandit replied as he lost balance. His eyes grew wide open as he could feel something strike the back of his neck.
Moments after tripping the bandit, the Russian struck the back of the head with his elbow. Hitting the ground, the bandit laid there unconscious. Keeping his eyes on the group, he waited for the next one to strike.
"Get him!", the leader yelled.
Another bandit drew his blade and charged towards the Russian warrior. Instead of a thrust, he went for a vertical attack. It was sloppy and he could see through it.
"Not good enough", the warrior said to the bandit. Immediately, he used both hands and grabbed the bandit's wrist. Using the bandit's momentum, he tossed him to the other side. Gently kicking the bandit, he rendered him unconscious.
Another two decided to take him from both sides. One bandit charged from behind only to have a powerful back thrust kick connected with his face. The one in front had a powerful uppercut connected with his chin. Four bandits on the ground so far.
The only one left standing was the leader of the bandits. Drawing his sword, the leader charged at the man.
"Tell me your name", the bandit said to the Russian fighter.
The Russian stood there. "If you insist. I am Mishka Dotsenko of Mother Russia", he replied to the leader.
"Very well, Mishka", the leader said to him; "I will remember your name; Mishka Dotsenko", he continued. He then attacked with a vertical downward slash.
Immediately, Mishka stepped back and drew his katana. With a matter of seconds, Mishka held his katana upwards. He effortlessly blocked the bandit's attack. Afterwards, Mishka quickly spun around in a circle and attacked with a powerful spinning hook kick.
"Ugggghhhhhh.", the bandit let out as the heel of Mishka's right foot connected with his chin. Flying back, he hit the ground, and rolled back several times. The leader would not give up. Slowly, the bandit helped himself up. Immediately, he charged with several slashes.
Effortlessly, Mishka held his blade up, then to the left, downward, upwards, and to the right. Quickly, Mishka held the tip of his blade an inch away from the bandit's neck. The leader stopped dead in his tracks.
Slowly, Mishka retracted his blade and placed it back in his hilt. The leader tried to capitalize by another downward slash.
Calmly, Mishka stepped back as he jumped up and launched a flying knee thrust to the man's face. All five men were knocked unconscious. Mishka's job was done as he approached the horses. He left only one horse loaded. The man had compassion for the bandits.
Picking a horse, Mishka loaded it up. He slowly helped himself on the horse and started to ride towards the border. It soon got to be night. The horse laid there asleep as Mishka was finishing off the last of the animal he managed to kill and roasted over the fire.
Looking up at the stars, Mishka laid there and used his cloak as a blanket. He constantly wondered what it would be like to actually see his homeland. Mishka couldn't sleep at all. The young Russian warrior wanted to see his homeland so badly.
"Brother, I wish I could have the chance to see you...", he said to himself. Mishka had a brother and a sister. The two of them stayed with loyal friends while Mishka was smuggled out of Russia. "Mother... Father... Is it true? That you were both murdered?", he continued to talk to himself.
It was a cool night in the desert. His journey was extremely difficult, especially having to cross through the Gobi Desert and its cruel freezing winds. If it wasn't for the letter about his brother's death, Mishka would've remained in Japan. Mishka could remember his past.
He had traveled to Siam, China, and then Japan. Mishka picked up their fighting styles. One of them was the powerful Siamese fighting art which would be called 'Muay Thai' later on. He learned some of the Chinese styles of combat and then learned Japanese Bushido and Jiu-Jitsu.
During his time in Japan, he heard of a legendary samurai mercenary known as Heishiro Mitsurugi, who wanted to find a weapon that could combat the Taganeshima rifle. From the stories about Mitsurugi, Mishka learned of a demonic weapon known as the Soul Edge.
His master could tell him stories about how the weapon's inherited evil aura could drive the purest soul into insanity and blood lust. Even a small shard of the blade could drive a person to be evil. He had also learned about how the blade managed to destroy cities, villages, and fortresses.
"I must return to Mother Russia...", he said, sitting upwards and clenching his right fist. Mishka would have to make it back home if the wielder of the Soul Edge ever made his way towards Russia. He now had two goals, to keep the Soul Edge or its shards from appearing in Russia and to avenge his family.
His heart was rapidly beating as he continued to think about the whole picture. "I'm not in the mood to sleep", he said to himself. Slowly, Mishka got to his feet. "I guess it is best to use my energy constructively", continuing on.
Taking a few deep breaths, Mishka stood by the fire and started to practice. Clenching his left fist, Mishka moved it back for a second and executed a powerful left hook. Clenching his right first, Mishka did the same thing. Repeating these punches over again, Mishka kept on making them more powerful.
"Let's try something different", he said as he got into his stance again. Mishka knew that if he managed to combine techniques, he would be a formidible fighter. Swinging his left fist forward, he executed a powerful left hook. Instead of bringing it back, he continued to let it swing as he twisted his whole body. He spun in a 360 degree circle and executed a powerful spinning backfist.
He was pretty impressed with himself. Mishka was very muscular. He stood there at 6'3 and 235 pounds. The rest of his sparring partners were much shorter and skinnier. But, looks weren't everything. Mishka had to be strong, fast, and agile.
Mishka slowly moved back to his stance as he quickly lifted his right leg up and quickly brought the heel of the foot down. He could remember how he ended up hurting himself numerous times practicing that move. The man could now crush bricks with the heel of his foot. This was a very dangerous move. Many men went against Mishka. Using that move, he sent most of the attackers to the doctors. The rest were dead.
"Again...", saying to himself as he executed another axe kick. It was a move that he constantly had to practice or it would lose effectiveness. Spinning his body around, Mishka tried the spinning axe kick. It was more devastating than the regular axe kick. As his heel hit the ground, sand flew around.
Some of it hit the horse in the face, who just moved it's face around and sneezed. Mishka looked back at his horse and laughed. "I'm sorry, comrade. It was inconsiderate of me", he said apologizing to the horse. He felt that it was enough practicing that move.
Lifting his knee up, Mishka executed several roundhouse kicks and spun around, delivering a powerful spinning hook kick. He wasn't satisfied yet. Mishka executed the move again. The man felt the need to constantly practice and get better. The horse had enough of it as he started to make a loud grunt.
"I guess you're right", Mishka said, looking at the horse. Going back to the campfire, Mishka laid back down and wrapped himself in the cloak. He would need the energy for the next day. Mishka had to get back to Russia as soon as possible. He was almost at the border. It was a long way towards his home from Mongolia.
Three Days Later
Mishka was almost at the border. He just needed another half-day to make it there. "I'm almost home...", he said to himself. Immediately, he pulled the string back and signaled the horse to stop. Mishka caught something in the corner of his eye. He pointed the direction for the horse as they quickly rode towards that area.
"This is not good, eh comrade...", Mishka said to his new horse companion. A caravan was being attacked by bandits. Several dead bodies laid there. The rest of the travelers were screaming and running. "Oi, more bandits...", he continued. Reaching for the back, Mishka quickly pulled the rifle with scope outwards. It was a special rifle he invented. The weapon was one of a kind.
Gripping it, Mishka opened it up and loaded a ball bearing inside the chamber and closed it shut a second later. Looking through the scope, Mishka selected the closest target. Steadily, the man placed his finger on the trigger and gently squeezed the trigger.
He picked well. The target was a bandit who was getting ready to rape a young girl. "Ahhh, get away!", the girl yelled as she crawled backward away from the bandit.
"You wench, you will be mine...", replied the bandit as he advanced towards her. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks as he felt a sharp pain shoot into his back and out his chest. Looking down, he could see blood dripping down his chest. Slowly, he looked at the terrified girl. Turning around, he got a good look at Mishka who quickly loaded another round into his rifle.
Coughing blood, the bandit fell to the ground. Closing his eyes, the bandit laid there dead. Picking another bandit, Mishka pulled the trigger and sent another round flying. This time, he killed another bandit who was pulling a woman by the hair. Feeling the pain of the round, the bandit immediately released the woman.
The rest of the bandits immediately saw Mishka charging to the rescue. What were left of the bandits charged towards Mishka, who holstered his rifle and drew his prototype twin six-shooters from his side holsters. Pulling both triggers. Mishka killed two more bandits.
Quickly, he holstered his firearms and leaped off his horse. The bandits looked at Mishka and charged at the Russian warrior.
"Dragon Dawn!", Mishka yelled as he immediately drew his katana known as the 'Dragon Dawn'. Drawing his sword, he blocked and deflected the attack by one of the bandits. With a horizontal slash to the right, Mishka cut the bandit's abdomen open.
The bandit laid there dead with his guts spilling out on the ground. Mishka wasn't done yet. Neither were the bandits. They wouldn't yield. Instead they wanted revenge on Mishka for killing five of their men. Running forward, Mishka impaled and pulled back his katana from another bandit.
Backing away, Mishka avoided the next attack and executed a downward slash. He could see the bandit's forearm drop to the ground. It was immediately severed. The bandit fell to his knees screaming in pain. Mishka felt sorry and granted him a quick death. With a quick swipe, the bandit's head fell to the ground.
"Now... You would like to join them, comrades?", Mishka asked. The bandits looked around to see many of their men slain.
"I'll kill you!", yelled another bandit, only to be met with a blade through his heart. "Ugggghghhhhhhh...", the bandit cringed in pain as he started to cough up blood.
"Who's next?", Mishka asked, still holding his katana. Immediately, he sheathed his sword. He kept his eyes on the bandits. "I'll make this easier for you all".
Seeing Mishka unarmed, two bandits decided to try and make a quick kill out of him. "Not nice, trying to attack an unarmed man", he replied to the bandits. Quickly, the man lifted his right leg up and quickly dropped the heel of it downwards. The heel quickly connected with the top of the man's head. His skull was cracked open as blood started to seep from the eye sockets.
The man laid there dead. The other bandit attacked with a running thrust. Mishka saw that and spun his body around and performed his spinning axe kick as it connected with the right shoulder blade. Moments later, the bandit dropped his sword and held his shoulder in pain.
"Who is next?", Mishka asked as he quickly put his fists up. There were four bandits left. Looking to see their fallen comrades, they immediately ran away with their tails in between their legs. As the bandits left, Mishka examined the dead bodies of the other bandits taking what valuables and supplies he could find.
"Thank you, friend", said an elder man as he approached Mishka. "Tell me, what's is your name", he replied to the warrior.
"I am Mishka. Mishka Dotsenko", Mishka replied as he walked back towards his horse.
"Where are you headed to, Mishka?", the man asked.
Slowly, Mishka turned and faced the man. "I have returning towards Mother Russia. I came as far as from the island known as Japan".
"We're headed there ourselves. You can join us if you like", the man offered.
"Thank you, I'll take you on your offer. Those bandits will be back", Mishka replied as he took the man up on his offer.
"At last, back to Mother Russia", Mishka said as he looked up to the sky. Maybe these travelers might know of the weapon known as the Soul Edge, he thought to himself.
Later That Night.
"What brings you back to Russia?", the caravan leader asked Mishka as they shared some fine wine.
"I was smuggled out of Russia when I was only a few months old", Mishka replied to the kind old man. He continued, "Ivan the Terrible ordered the execution of my parents". "They found out that I was smuggled. We made it to Siam, then mercenaries came wanting to kill me. We moved to China. There was a war going on and we took refuge in Japan."
"Quite an interesting life you have there.", the man replied to Mishka.
"I trained in the Siamese, Chinese, and Japanese arts", Mishka told the man.
"Why come back to Russia?", the man asked Mishka.
Mishka tood up and took out the Dragon Dawn as he elegantly swung it around. Practicing his European sword techniques before switching to Chinese blade techniques. Afterwards, he placed it back inside the sheath.
Mishka then faced the man. "My brother was murdered by a jealous suitor.", he replied to the man. "I will make them pay.", Mishka continued as he practiced a backflip kick. Upon landing on the ground, he executed a spinning crescent kick followed by a spinning footsweep.
The man clapped his hands. "I'm impressed by your skills, friend", he replied to Mishka.
"I have a question to ask you.", Mishka told the man, with his eyes gazed on the burning fire. He could recall what he saw when he was only a few months old. Everything was burned to the ground.
"Do ask, Mishka", the man replied.
"Since you are travelers, can tell me what you know of the Soul Edge?", Mishka asked the old man.
"I can tell you a lot. Some say it's the sword of salvation and others call it the sword of damnation. But, it's the sword of damnation. The blade is said to drive men insane. Causing the rain of evil with its aura. It has destroyed and taken so many lives", he replied to Mishka's question.
"I see, I've heard many rumors of the cursed blade from my sensei", Mishka replied to the man.
"It leaves a path of destruction, my friend", he sternly said to Mishka.
"I know, I don't want to know what would happen if these people get their hands on this weapon", Mishka said to the man.
