As heroic as their actions were, Jack and Kenshin still preferred being on the move rather than staying in one place for a long time. The villagers grew to understand their desire to leave and continue on their endless journey, so they bade their mysterious heroes an impromptu farewell. The two samurai were allowed to wander again: one searching for good deeds to be done and souls to save, the other for a way home. In a strange sense, the enemies they were facing were just a small bump in the road--hopefully not the last.

"I hope that man has no intention of returning to that town," murmured Jack as he and his companion started down the road. "I have seen the way that the minds of evil work. That man knows that we were in that village, and might do some terrible things to it while we are away."

"You mean like… setting a house on fire?" suggested Kenshin. Jack stopped dead in his tracks, facing forward sternly as Kenshin caught up with him.

"We have no proof that he ever did such a thing," whispered Jack very softly. "I know what you mean, but fires like that happen all the time. I do not think that our enemy, or that enemy in particular, is so clever to know our next destination before we do. Besides, even if he did, there was little point of setting that blaze other than to draw us into the town--and if he ever tries to do something like that again, he shall meet my blade and understand its power."

Jack kept still for a second, letting the wind blow over his kimono and the short braid of hair he kept tied up, and slowly took a few steps forward as he resumed his journey. Kenshin was left to ponder his words, a haunting message addressed to all those cruel enough for it to apply to. He followed his older companion after a while, a great deal of things on his mind-one of them being where the path and the countryside would take them next.

7: Blood-Red Battousai -- A Quiet and Terrible Reflection

When the last town was so far away from the wanderers' vision that it was little more than a dot of blurry light, it was then where their adventures into the wilderness of the country began. Jack immediately began to recognize parts of the landscape as he passed through of it, much of it imprinted into his mind forever. He knew the hilly landscape that they were passing into, where the mountains of green rose up so high that it looked like the trees had blankets over them. After all, he had grown up in that area.

And oh, the trees that he saw were mighty and strong! Retaining their most lush attire with great pride, they stood out as loving sentinels of life to greet the duo when they walked beneath their shady canopies. The dirt path that had been carved into the land had vanished long ago, ending where the hilly part of the country began, where no man settled and where no tool had been used. The virgin ground had never been touched with plow or spade; what few prints were there had been made by animals as they wandered through, and the sandals the samurais wore barely ruffled the long grass beneath.

The land was dry, moist only in the mornings when the dew of dawn clung to grass, so finding streams and rivers was rare. The two wanderers had gathered supplies from the villagers just before they left, in exchange for rescuing the people from the blaze and driving off the assassin, so they were set for a while as they crossed the country in search of their next destination. Ultimately, they knew that they could not run forever, and that their pursuers would find them one way or another eventually--but as long as they stayed away from populated areas where people could be in danger, they were okay.

For three days they passed over the pristine country, discovering that much of the land around them still remained unhindered by modern devices. For Jack, it was more common to look through a land and find little adulteration in nature, but Kenshin had grown up in a Japan that was just beginning to understand its own industrial power, however primitive it was at times. He looked like he was enjoying himself as he walked beside Jack, remaining quiet with a bright, almost childish look on his face.

Three days and most of their provisions had passed before they found any semblance of civilization, and even then, it was a discovery of very earthy proportions. A farmland rested in the valley of a few small hills, its size roughly the same as the village they had left. A wooden fence designated most of its property, which ran just into the emerald foothills. They finally saw a clear lake, which had been annexed to the farm, and since they were tired and hungry, they decided to stop by and rest.

"It would do us both some good to lay down in a cozy setting like this, that it would," said Kenshin with a smile. "Of course, we might have to work for our earnings, but I don't mind at all, that I don't. It would only seem fair to lend a helping hand to such kind people." Jack quietly agreed and led the way, down a gentle hill and through an opening in the fence, where they found the owner of the small farm wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Hello there!" greeted Kenshin. "Excuse us, but we were wondering if we could find a place to stay and some food to eat! We'll both be glad to work for you in exchange!"

"Ah, what a lucky day!" wailed the farmer wearily, wiping his head again. "I'm so busy with everything that it'll take me a year to finish! I live way out here in the middle of nowhere, and since I don't have a wife or any sons, I thought I'd be all alone forever! Thank Buddha that you arrived! I must be blessed!"

"So it is a lucky day for all of us!" exclaimed Jack. The farmer nodded his head.

"Yeah! It is! So what do you gentlemen want to help me with first? I've got a lot of wood in the back that I never got around to chopping. Do you two know how to chop wood?" Both Jack and Kenshin looked at each other, neither one unable to help the sly glint in their eyes.

"We might… know a thing or two…"

---------------

After amazing the farmer with their wood-chopping skills, Kenshin and Jack were refreshed with as much water as they could handle, then were told to help plow the fields. The two samurai leaped into their duties enthusiastically, running around with boundless energy until even the most difficult task was over. They helped clear bushes and shrubs with their swords, they both helped mend the fences and tools; they assisted the farmer with planting and sowing seeds, and even cared for the animals of the farm, brushing and feeding them and making sure that everything was in good order.

Their first day at the farm was spent in light labor; the second was filled with more strenuous activities. Once, Jack jokingly told his companion that they were more in need of rest then than when they had first arrived; Kenshin replied by saying that he was hungrier and more thirsty while working than just wandering. But of course, they were helping the farmer as samurais should, extending courtesy, kindness, and a servant's disposition, and his gratefulness and the fulfillment they got from it all was reward enough.

On the third day, a chaotic disaster struck as the fence tore down again and a swarm of pigs escaped their confinement. A dozen shrieks and squeals filled the air, distracting the samurais and the farmer from working in the field. The poor farmer yelled as his prize porkers ran out on him.

"Oh no! My pigs! They're running amok everywhere! I'll never be able to catch them all!"

"Leave it to us!" exclaimed Jack as he stepped in front of the farmer. He and Kenshin leaped after the slippery swine, diving down like mad monkeys as they tried to outrun the swine. But those pigs were wily and quick! They dashed and darted everywhere, sneaking away from almost-certain capture with impressive speed. Oftentimes, when it looked like Jack or Kenshin had caught a hog, it would slip out of their grasp at the last second, causing them to stumble and fall to the ground. Jack looked especially terrible when he stood up again, for the stains of mud and grass clung like barnacles to his gi.

Kenshin plummeted to the ground and extended his arms to squeeze the pig's rear legs, getting himself a filthy but satisfying victory. He quickly took the pig back to the fence, which the farmer was desperately trying to repair. As Kenshin tried to keep the pig inside, another squealed past him, bowling him over as it ran straight into the pen. Kenshin was left flat on the ground, groaning comically as he ate the pig's dust.

"Well I'll be!" exclaimed the farmer. "That one must've been really eager to get back into the pen!" He laughed, and Kenshin tried to mirror his smile as he stood back up. Still teetering a bit from the pig's sudden attack, Kenshin went back into the fray. He passed Jack, who was proudly holding two pigs up in the air by their legs.

"I have two!" he boasted. Kenshin smiled and pointed to the pen.

"Great! So do I… sort of."

"Shall we make a contest out of this?" said Jack. Kenshin gave his friend an eager smirk, and agreed.

"Yes, let's just see who gets the most pigs inside…" Quickly, Kenshin darted ahead into the field while Jack raced back to the pen. As carefully as he could, he tossed the porkers into the fence and ran back out to rescue the remaining swine. The farmer stayed behind, laughing hard as he watched the two samurai scramble after the hogs, oftentimes causing themselves painful but hilarious disaster.

Finally, both warriors guided the last of the pigs in the pen, weary and exhausted but feeling great for their accomplishment. The farmer counted heads and came up with the correct amount, and congratulated his workers for a job very well done. And then, after giving them praise, he offered them a bath. Jack and Kenshin had gotten incredibly filthy out there, tripping over the ground and into the muddy grass.

"Thank you for your kindness," said a brown-faced Jack, bowing his head. "We could not think of a better reward for saving your pigs than a well-deserved hot bath." Kenshin, always needing to add something funny, spoke up as well.

"I know I'll certainly never look at ham the same way, that I won't!" One of the pigs oinked angrily at his bad joke, and with a chuckle, the farmer led them both to the lake where he washed.

----------

Though they knew that they could not stay on the small farm forever, it had been a wonderful place to rest and recollect thoughts that had been scattered from so much wandering. It had been ages since either man labored hard and long on such an earthy ground--it was actually pretty relaxing, once they both got used to it. But they knew they could not stay for much longer, and so they both agreed that they would leave once they formulated a plan--or their pursuers flushed them out.

One day, as they were tilling the soil and thinking of a way out of their predicament, they saw the farmer walking towards them with a smile on his face, leading a tall man that both warriors instantly recognized. The man dwarfed all three of the workers, standing at least two meters tall above the ground, and a few of the muscles in his body were as large as Kenshin's head. He had an even colder, stonier look on his face than before, and the hairy flames set upon his head and face danced even brighter and hotter than before. He had not changed--but Jack and Kenshin were not concerned about change.

For a moment, they feared that they had finally been discovered, and that their trail was not as cold as they thought it had been.

"Hello, young workers!" exclaimed the farmer cheerfully. His smile was oblivious to the tension shared between Jack and Kenshin, and the look of flaming ice that the taller man was giving them both. He continued, just as naïve as before. "This gentleman was in the area and wondered if he could perform some labor for some food. I already told him I had two men working for me already, but seeing as how strong he looked, the two of you may have some competition!" He laughed gently and looked up into the blazing, lifeless eyes of the semi-gigantic man.

"Now what was your name again, sir?" he asked. The tall redhead grumbled.

"Just… Rygar. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with these two in private."

"Huh? What for?"

"It's just a request," answered the taller man. The farmer shrugged, and wandered away to give the three of them privacy. The hands of the two smaller warriors reached for their swords, but the third raised his hand and stopped them.

"Don't," he said. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk, just as I said. If you're wondering, I didn't follow you here--I've been avoiding you, as a matter of fact--but now that we're all here together, I might as well speak with you."

"About what?" asked Kenshin warily. Rygar grunted softly as he sat down on a tree stump that had yet to be uprooted.

"Myself, you could say. You know, Kenshin Himura, when you really think about it, you could consider myself an older, stronger, less sociable version of you."

"How do you mean?" he asked. Slowly, the two men sat down on the ground, and listened as their powerful nemesis revealed several unbelievable pieces of personal information-apparently, because he just wanted to.

"Many miles west of here lies a series of islands which is my birthplace. You might know them as the British Isles; as you can see, my appearance differs greatly than yours. The other man, Melville Drakemoth, comes from the same area, more or less, though we don't know each other very well. When I was a few years younger, probably around my late twenties, I was considered the Battousai of my own country: its most infamous slayer of men.

"But that is perhaps our only real similarity," he continued, his bass voice becoming quiet. "Whereas you fought for a righteous cause and later vowed to be a messenger of peace and safety, I was the type who enjoyed my work, and did much of it for pleasure. Yes, that's right: I was myself without morals. When I was at the peak of my bloody infamy, I was known as Rygar the Red, and still am to this day.

"Red is the color of my hair, a symbol of my upcoming presence. Red is the color of fire, which I have used to incinerate everything I have come across. Red is the color of blood, which I have used to wash the land clean in floods of crimson. The entirety of the land was aflame with the color of bloody red, all from my hands, all caused by me whether in pleasure or in payment, and I enjoyed it all.

"I was the most feared and terrified creation in the whole country, until one day, when everything changed."

"What… changed for you?" managed Jack, somewhat unable to speak because of the story he had heard. Rygar sighed, and stared down at the ground, reminiscing on his deepest act of depravity.

"I killed a young girl," he replied in monotone. "As Rygar the Red, I had slain hundreds of children before without a single though. I even killed mothers who were ready to give birth to children. But this…… she was different. As I plowed through that burning, screaming village, taking people's lives faster than the Reaper himself could count, I came across a whimpering little girl, huddled in between some barrels. She was a defenseless, frightened little child, but my aim was to kill anything that got in my way or was witness to my actions. But before I could strike, I saw something that… terrified me.

"As I raised my sword, the young girl looked at me, hopeless and defenseless, her dull green eyes begging for me not to kill her. This child had lived through all of the Hell that I unleashed upon the town, and was so frightened and sad that all she could do was hide and hope to remain unnoticed. But in my cruelty, I uncovered her and prepared to strike, destroying her flimsy hopes before I destroyed her. That look she gave me, that silent, frightening gaze, sent terrifying shivers down my spine, something that would haunt me forever. I ended up taking her head."

Jack and Kenshin, too petrified to even gawk, could say nothing.

"I began to realize that I had turned into the great Golem of legend, a soulless, powerful creature who grew so tall and mighty that they were obstructed by the truth of things. I left that town and the country as quickly as I could, but not before being witness to all the repercussions of my violent ways. Absolutely everything that had once been in my path was now ashes and dust. Pain and misery were the only survivors, and no good came from my devilish acts, unlike the purity of your purpose, Himura."

Kenshin said nothing.

"I decided to leave my home country forever, and went on a journey of retribution, where I hoped to find inner peace to quell the demons living within. Yet I could find no town to stay in where the name of Rygar the Red was not feared, and no sailor was brave enough to ferry me across the rivers and oceans. I was forced to live as a hermit for a few years, until I finally came across the one man who gave me a second chance, my beloved master." Rygar paused, and Jack noticed that the stoic man actually looked like he was smiling fondly.

"Who would that be?" he asked. Rygar sighed.

"Master Atman, the only person I've met who was stronger than I was."

"What?!" hissed Kenshin sharply, taken by surprise violently. "You mean to say that you were one of the students of the great Master Atman??" Rygar nodded his head.

"I was. And I'm not surprised you know of him. His name is even more recognized than my own, but of course, it's for his benevolence, whereas mine is the epitome of Hellish horror." Kenshin did not respond; he just kept his mouth and eyes wide open in surprise. Poor Jack was confused by that point, since he had never heard of this Atman person during any of his journeys. Of course, he couldn't have while in his own time, and Aku could've erased all records of the man in the future.

"Excuse me for asking such an unusual question, but who is this Master Atman?" he said. Rygar raised his eyebrow, perhaps in bewilderment.

"Ah, so there is a man out there who doesn't know of Master Atman. Himura, would you do the honors in my stead?" Kenshin nodded his head and turned towards his older companion, a very serious look on his face.

"I have learned to fight under a great teacher, and I have been through many worthy opponents in my life, but the one known as Master Atman is reputed to be the world's greatest authority on self-defense. Some say that when he was barely a young man, he helped lead a revolution against three separate empires; others say that his innate skill is so great, that he actually becomes stronger each time he fights.

"Unlike many teachers I know of, Master Atman is a warrior of knowledge and defense, preferring to fight without ever raising a hand. But if he were spurned so, the offender would be thrust into regret. I have heard stories of Atman knocking out large bears with just his fist, or breaking boulders into dust with a single strike. That man is a peaceful teacher, of whom only the strongest of students could keep up with. If you," he indicated to Rygar, "learned from him, then I can only imagine your power."

"My master said that power was worthless," stated Rygar firmly. "And it is. I learned the great lesson that any fool could kill and destroy; it took no strength to create evil. The greatest strength, he said, was resisting the evil and dedicating oneself to the opposite of villainy and devastation--as you are doing presently, Himura."

Again, Kenshin said nothing.

"He sounds like a man of which any number of things could be learned that would have little to do with violence," noted Jack. "Was he of the Shao-Lin order?"

"It's possible," shrugged the older man. "My old master died a few years back, so in his memory, I have decided to wander the world again and do everything in my power to rectify what I have done wrong."

"But what good could come out of what you are doing now?" demanded Jack. "You say that you want to do good and strive to change your ways, but how does hunting after Kenshin and myself fit in with any of this? You are being just as destructive and cruel as ever!"

"You have done nothing to earn my wrath," replied Rygar calmly. "But the former Battousai is another story. Although I understand that what he did during the Meiji Revolution was perhaps a pure motive, there are still many people out there who despise him. I am not one of them; I am just arbitrating for them in battle. I can justify this battle because, perhaps, if these people see that their scourge is defeated, they may take solace in vengeance. I for one don't approve of revenge, but if it will settle their anger…"

"But you are still doing the wrong thing," stated Kenshin firmly. "Killing, no matter what the reason, is an inhumane act and should not be used as a means of satisfying other people. What I did, I did as a slayer of men; I am now just a simple wanderer, that I am, who is trying to make up for my years of murder by helping and saving others. I know I can never atone for my sins, but if I can prevent even one life from snuffing out…"

"We really are very similar, Himura," grumbled Rygar. The taller, older man stood up again, stretching his back and loosening his neck, apparently finished with talking. "You and I both were man-slayers, though in different eras and different parts of the world. We were once hated and feared, but through the flames of our ordeals, we passed through into stronger people. I am glad that you are no longer a killer, Himura. The world has enough of them as it is."

Rygar gave Kenshin a faint smile, and saluted Jack numbly. Before he left them by themselves, he reached back behind him and slowly drew out the greatsword sheathed onto his back. The object was about half as long as Rygar was, and from the way the ground trembled as he thrust it into the soil, it was incredibly heavy.

"It takes five strong men just to lift that sword up off the ground," stated Rygar. "I can wield it with just one hand. Go ahead, try and move it." Kenshin and Jack were apprehensive at first, since they didn't quite see the point of the exercise. Carefully, they approached the blade and pulled on it with all their might. Even with both of them lifting, the sword did not move a single inch.

Suddenly, as they were trying to lift it, the sword rose into the air, though not through their actions. Rygar had pulled it out as if it were a wooden stick, with the two samurai still clinging to the hilt! They quickly jumped off, and stared in awe as Rygar waved his massive weapon around in just one hand. It returned to its sheath easily, the weight of the heavy weapon not affecting its user in the least.

"I'd rather not cross you again if I can help it," he said to them. "To be perfectly honest, I loathe my position. I'd rather not even be in this country at all, no offense. But… I am still weak. I can attest my own dark past and its dark desires to my presence here; there's no other excuse. I hope I never see either one of you again, for if I do, we will have to be enemies. Farewell and goodbye, and try to watch out for the others. I think one of them has been following you."

With that, the old warrior walked away into the distance, opposite of where Kenshin and Jack were going to head. The two warriors watched him until they could no longer see him, and when they were convinced that he was gone, they turned towards the farmer's house and headed straight for it.

The time for wandering had passed. It was time to take action, or else be reduced to drifters forever. Jack concentrated on what he and his companion would do next, but Kenshin was absorbed with the words that Rygar had left him, and the two demonstrations he gave them, which foreshadowed just the kind of fight they could expect if they ever ran into him again.

And despite every precaution they would take in the future, both warriors knew that a third confrontation was inevitable.