Chapter 4:Honor
"An oracle." the one-eyed sailor told him. Raphael kept his eye on the grizzled Mariner, hardened from experience on sea and no doubt from countless battles against pirates. Raphael did not think this man insane. On the contrary, since the death of Kilik, Raphael was desperate to find any way to could lead him to Soul edge. "Aye in Egypt I saw it. Lost in the desert I was. A raiding party hit me crew when we were on leave. We escaped, but I became lost in the desert. After three days of wanderin' I found th' pyramid. The food in there was so well preserved that ye coulda kept haggis in there for a week and it wouldn' be spoiled. Then I came to the oracle. I asked and she showed me the way out. She knows everything, she does."
"And could you find the location of this oracle yet again if you need to?" Raphael inquired, leaning forward, eager to hear more.
"Aye." the man said. "I wrote this map as I was going." The sailor pulled out a slightly yellowed piece of parchment. "This has the location of the oracle. It's not exactly up to scale, but it should get ye jus' fine anyhow." Raphael reached for the parchment eagerly, but the sailor pulled it our Raphael's grip quickly. "For a price. This ain't a charity, laddie."
Raphael scowled, but conceded. "What fee do you wish?"
"Jus' twenty pieces a' gold." the sailor informed. "Th' french money o' yours don't do me no good."
Raphael nodded. He was far past having to conserve his money, and for the location of the ultimate sword, it was an easy bargain. He emptied the money into the sailor's hands and took the map as the sailor counted. "I daresay that you will spend them well." Raphael said as he left the table. He considered the map as he unscrolled it. It was crudely drawn but obviously the sailor must have had a basic knowledge of cartography. It was readable enough and Raphael was confident that he could find this pyramid.
The trip to Egypt was a difficult one. Switching carriages and going half of it by foot, Raphael vowed that as soon as he came to civilized place he would make bathing his first priority. Un fortunately, there did not seem to be any european taverns. Raphael would just have to make do with a local one.
Walking to a dusty house with aramaeic sign on the top. Oddly enough, Raphael was able to decipher it to 'Nile tavern'. Raphael theorized that the power of Soul edge had affected him so that he had the ability to understand other languages. He would have to look further into this ability at a later time. "Excuse me." he said, walking into the room."Where is the nearest bath house?"
The balding tavern owner looked at him. "You are from the west, are you not?"
Raphael looked at the owner, perturbed. "Yes. A man of the french empire."
The owner nodded. "Makes sense. There is a bath house out on the edge of this city."
Raphael nodded his thanks and said. "I would like to take in a room here."
"Of course." the owner said. "What is your name?"
Figuring that he was safe enough using his real name in Egypt, Raphael said. "Raphael Sorel."
"Yes sir." he said, writing hte name down. "Enjoy your stay and your bath."
Raphael nodded and felt that he would enjoy his much needed bath even if the water was freezing cold. He was so dirty he might have not even felt the water for several minutes.
Raphael felt much cleaner with both his clothes and his body washed. As he finished dressing, he heard a whipping sound come from the window. Raphael duck and an arrow hit the wall of the bath house.
Raphael inspected the arrow. It was obviously an attempt on his life. He walked through the building cautiously, his hand firmly on flambert.
"Hooo!" a cry was heard, and Raphael barely moved out of the way of a scimitar that almost cut him down. He stared at the person holding the sword. He was masked, so Raphael could not make out his features, but the muscles and tattered clothes told easily what the occupation was.
"It seems that I have attracted an assassain." Raphael said, taking out flambert. "No problem. This is part of my plan."
The assassain jabbed his sword forward and Raphael quickly blocked. The assassain then dropped down and tripped Raphael with a sweep. Surprised, Raphael fell down. He then rolled to avoid a strike from the killer's blade He then jumped up and kicked the killer in the stomach.
"Not bad." the assassain complemented. "Most of my opponents are dead before they realize it. Ha ha ha."
"You're revolting." Raphael replied. "Go away."
"I'm afraid that I can't." the assassain replied. "I have a job that I must complete."
"Is that so?" Raphael asked. The killer did not answer, but merely began attacking again. Raphael dodged, blocked, and parried when he could, but noticed something about this assassain that made him different from other hired hands.
He was actually skilled. Raphael was still stuck on a defensive posture and this swordsman's attacks were so aggressive and pinpoint that Rapahael was having trouble seeing if he could get an offensive posture in. He dodged several more slices and tried to push his rapier in, but the man quickly pushed it away with his own blade and kicked Raphael in the stomach. Rapahael managed to stay up and instead of falling over, head- butted the assassain in the chest. The killer staggered backwards, and Raphael saw his chance.
He thrusted flambert quickly for the assassain's heart, but the assassain brought his sword up to parry and intercept it. It did not go quite as the assassain had planned, because Raphael had managed to pivot it so that it hit the face mask.
"Aah!" he cried, staggering back as the metal mask cracked opened.
"Now, perhaps we shall see what is behind the mask." Raphael said, expecting anything.
When the mask fell off Raphael looked hard his opponent's face. It was hard and his hair was brown. The man reminded Raphael of the youth he had beaten back in China. "My name is Hwang." he informed. "Now that you've seen my face, I can't let you live."
"Someone will die here." Raphael assured. "It, however, is not going to be me."
Hwang charged again and Raphael dodged the blade, keeping his eyes and his feet focused. Every now and then Hwang would supplement his sword swings with a kick. Raphael realized now that Hwang was trying to push him into the wall to limit his mobility. Raphael decided that instead of dodging, he would have to meet the attack head on.
As Hwang supplied another sword swing followed by kick, Raphael switched flambert to his left hand and grasped Hwang's sword with his right. Feeling the sword cut the flesh in his palm, Raphael quickly stabbed his rapier into Hwang's chest. The Hwangs foot came, kicking him over.
Three seconds later, Hwang realized he was dead. Raphael had sacrificed his palm and taken a bruise to the shoulder to plant his sword into Hwangs chest. Raphael got up and silently pulled the sword out of Hwangs chest. He glared at the dead man.
"You are not enough to stop me." Raphael declared, turning and leaving.
Raphael opened the door to the tavern. Judging by the look on the owner's face, his assumption had been correct. The assassain had been no random killer in the street looking for money.
"M-master Raphael!" the man stuttered. "N-nice to see you back."
"Why so surprised?" Raphael acused, not even trying to hide the fact that he knew what the tavern owner had tried.
"Y-yo-y-you have been gone a long time is all." the tavern owner said frantically. "I thought that perhaps you had forgotten about your r-r-oom here."
"I've been gone for little more than hour." Raphael countered. "Does that constitute as a long time?"
"Well, well, welll...." the tavern owner said, trying to find an excuse. Raphael then whipped his sword out and put it at the owner's neck.
"Is it customary of your tavern to try and kill customers or am I a special case?!" Raphael demanded.
"Please don't kill me!" he demanded. "Please don't!"
"Where in the hell do you get the gaul to attack me so blatantly?" Raphael demanded, livid.
"I have nothing against you!" the owner shrieked. "It was just buisness! Buisness! The europeans! They put out an astronomical bounty on you! You couldn't blame me! I just needed the money! That's all!"
"Who put a bounty on me?" Raphael asked, not moving his sword one inch.
"The french! The french!" the man cried. "That's all I know! I swar by all that's holy that I know nothing more."
Raphael removed his sword from the man's throat then kicked him in the groin. He now realized the foolishness of revealing his true name. "Under normal circumstances, I would kill you right now. However, I am pressed for time and cannot afford to waste such precious time burying your body. Consider yourself lucky, fool."
With that Raphael fled the city.
"At least I got a bath." Raphael muttered as he rode the camel towards his destination. The camel was stubborn beast and Raphael had trouble conmvincining it to go in the direction that he wanted to. Fortunately, he had packed a lot of water and salt.
After several weeks of traveling and stopping at outposts, Raphael finally made it to the pyramid shown on the map. "This map had better been worth the trouble." Raphael muttered to himself. There was no place to tie up the camel, but Raphael managed to create a makeshift stake to tie him to.
As Raphael was about to walk into the pyramid, he heard a familiar whooshing sound. An arrow was being targeted at him. Raphael quickly ducked and rolled to see who targeted him. A man on horseback was chasing after him. He growled. Another assassain had been sent after him.
The assassain jumped off the horse which nickered and stood on two legs. "My thanks, Fuunsaaki!" the man said, then he turned towards Raphael. "I assume you are another seeker of the legendary blade Soul edge?"
Comprehension dawned on Raphael. He wasn't a hired killer: he was a rival in the race for Soul edge. "What of it?" Raphael said.
"I am the samurai Mitsurugi." he said. "If you are also seeking the sword soul edge, then it is inevitable that we fight."
"Very well then." Raphael said, taking flambert from it's sheath. "My sword is eager to taste blood."
"Let's go." Mitsurugi replied, taking out his katana. "Whatever you do, don't cry."
Raphael did not reply. He merely thrusted his sword forward. When Mitsurugi blocked the obvious attack, Raphael grabbed Mitsurugi's shoulder. To Raphael's surprise, Mitsurugi was not fooled by the first attack He twisted away from Raphael's grip, and slammed his sword towards Raphael's neck Rapahael barely dodged, but had his shoulder nicked instead.
Raphael then parried two sword strikes and tried to upthrust the samurai. Mitsurugi, however, slammed Rapahel's rapier away and moved to impale to european swordsman. Raphael, however, moved his sword quickly to block the samurai's katana.
"Impressive." Mitsurugi commented. "I did not think any of the westerners held any realization for the true power of the sword."
Raphael did not anwer, but found that from that sentence that he liked this Mitsurugi fellow and that it would be a shame to kill him. He served forward two thrusts, which Mitsurugi blocked, then rolled from a downward strike from the samurai's blade. Raphael then manged to stab the proud warrior in the back, but was not able to make the cut vey deep for Mitsurugi quickly twisted to force the sword from his back.
"Before we continue," Raphael said, keeping in his sword step. "I must know one thing."
Mitsurugi kept his sword on defensive. "What do you want?"
"Why do you seek Soul edge?"
Mitsurugi paused for a moment. "Do you fear for the future of swordsmanship?"
"What do you mean?" Raphael asked.
"In Japan, with the coming of the new westerners and their guns, swords are starting to lose their value." Mitsurugi explained. "Back in the shogunate and tokugawa eras, swordsmen were so powerful that they were feared as sorcerors. We were even known to control the wind.
"Now, though, with the guns being imported to my homeland, people are forgetting the true power of the sword. To remind them, I will bring Soul edge and defeat these blasphemous guns! I will show the world that the sword still has a place in this world! That is why I quest for Soul edge." Mitsurugi paused. "In return, I request your reason."
Raphael nodded. He could not help but feel sympathetic towards this man. His quest always took priority though, and no distractions could be given. "I met a child named Amy" he explained. "She was an angel. Pure and untainted, but ravaged by the horrors of France. She was such a wonderful girl to be with. So acceptant and resourceful. Yet, sometimes when I looked into her eyes, I saw her again as a scared child looking for her family. Whatever reason a man needs to act, for me, that child was enough."
Mitsurugi nodded. "It seems both our causes are worthy. It is not in the nature of us swordsmen to talk. We can only solve things..." Mitsurugi charged and Raphael sidestepped the attack and parried. "...with our blades."
Both charged into a furious assault of blows and parries, neither gaining any ground. That was when Raphael got a plan.
The samurai's armor was strong, but like all armors, it had weak points and defeatable places. Dodging another sword strike, Raphael moved for Mitsurugi's shoulder and gave a quick slash. Both Mitsurugi and Raphael noticed the drop in speed of Mitsurugi's next attack. The hit to the shoulder was obviously painful, but Mitsurugi was not going to be discouraged. He ignored the blood seeping from his shoulder and continued his attack. Raphael tried to move for the other shoulder, but Mitsurugi was not going to be tricked the same way twice. Raphael settled for slamming the hilt of flambert of on Mitsurugi's forehead. Instead of coiling back in pain as Raphael expected him to, Mitsurugi took impact full force without flinching.
Raphael was not too shocked to make a good reaction, however. He brought his leg up to Mitsurugi groin. No known training in human history has been able to prevent a man from coiling back from an attack such as this. Mitsurugi staggered back, his eyes watering. Raphael now had an inescapable opening.
Flambert flashed wildly. Raphael offered no chance of defense to Mitsurugi. Mitsurugi gained more and more injuries in an almost instantaneous amount of time. In a matter of seconds, the samurai fell to the sand, a bloody heap.
"D- Dammit." Mitsurugi muttered. Then he passed out.
"Not a bad dance." Raphael commented, sheathing Flambert. "Perhaps we shall meet again one day, worthy adversary."
Raphael turned to the pyramid and found the entrance.
End Chapter 4.
"An oracle." the one-eyed sailor told him. Raphael kept his eye on the grizzled Mariner, hardened from experience on sea and no doubt from countless battles against pirates. Raphael did not think this man insane. On the contrary, since the death of Kilik, Raphael was desperate to find any way to could lead him to Soul edge. "Aye in Egypt I saw it. Lost in the desert I was. A raiding party hit me crew when we were on leave. We escaped, but I became lost in the desert. After three days of wanderin' I found th' pyramid. The food in there was so well preserved that ye coulda kept haggis in there for a week and it wouldn' be spoiled. Then I came to the oracle. I asked and she showed me the way out. She knows everything, she does."
"And could you find the location of this oracle yet again if you need to?" Raphael inquired, leaning forward, eager to hear more.
"Aye." the man said. "I wrote this map as I was going." The sailor pulled out a slightly yellowed piece of parchment. "This has the location of the oracle. It's not exactly up to scale, but it should get ye jus' fine anyhow." Raphael reached for the parchment eagerly, but the sailor pulled it our Raphael's grip quickly. "For a price. This ain't a charity, laddie."
Raphael scowled, but conceded. "What fee do you wish?"
"Jus' twenty pieces a' gold." the sailor informed. "Th' french money o' yours don't do me no good."
Raphael nodded. He was far past having to conserve his money, and for the location of the ultimate sword, it was an easy bargain. He emptied the money into the sailor's hands and took the map as the sailor counted. "I daresay that you will spend them well." Raphael said as he left the table. He considered the map as he unscrolled it. It was crudely drawn but obviously the sailor must have had a basic knowledge of cartography. It was readable enough and Raphael was confident that he could find this pyramid.
The trip to Egypt was a difficult one. Switching carriages and going half of it by foot, Raphael vowed that as soon as he came to civilized place he would make bathing his first priority. Un fortunately, there did not seem to be any european taverns. Raphael would just have to make do with a local one.
Walking to a dusty house with aramaeic sign on the top. Oddly enough, Raphael was able to decipher it to 'Nile tavern'. Raphael theorized that the power of Soul edge had affected him so that he had the ability to understand other languages. He would have to look further into this ability at a later time. "Excuse me." he said, walking into the room."Where is the nearest bath house?"
The balding tavern owner looked at him. "You are from the west, are you not?"
Raphael looked at the owner, perturbed. "Yes. A man of the french empire."
The owner nodded. "Makes sense. There is a bath house out on the edge of this city."
Raphael nodded his thanks and said. "I would like to take in a room here."
"Of course." the owner said. "What is your name?"
Figuring that he was safe enough using his real name in Egypt, Raphael said. "Raphael Sorel."
"Yes sir." he said, writing hte name down. "Enjoy your stay and your bath."
Raphael nodded and felt that he would enjoy his much needed bath even if the water was freezing cold. He was so dirty he might have not even felt the water for several minutes.
Raphael felt much cleaner with both his clothes and his body washed. As he finished dressing, he heard a whipping sound come from the window. Raphael duck and an arrow hit the wall of the bath house.
Raphael inspected the arrow. It was obviously an attempt on his life. He walked through the building cautiously, his hand firmly on flambert.
"Hooo!" a cry was heard, and Raphael barely moved out of the way of a scimitar that almost cut him down. He stared at the person holding the sword. He was masked, so Raphael could not make out his features, but the muscles and tattered clothes told easily what the occupation was.
"It seems that I have attracted an assassain." Raphael said, taking out flambert. "No problem. This is part of my plan."
The assassain jabbed his sword forward and Raphael quickly blocked. The assassain then dropped down and tripped Raphael with a sweep. Surprised, Raphael fell down. He then rolled to avoid a strike from the killer's blade He then jumped up and kicked the killer in the stomach.
"Not bad." the assassain complemented. "Most of my opponents are dead before they realize it. Ha ha ha."
"You're revolting." Raphael replied. "Go away."
"I'm afraid that I can't." the assassain replied. "I have a job that I must complete."
"Is that so?" Raphael asked. The killer did not answer, but merely began attacking again. Raphael dodged, blocked, and parried when he could, but noticed something about this assassain that made him different from other hired hands.
He was actually skilled. Raphael was still stuck on a defensive posture and this swordsman's attacks were so aggressive and pinpoint that Rapahael was having trouble seeing if he could get an offensive posture in. He dodged several more slices and tried to push his rapier in, but the man quickly pushed it away with his own blade and kicked Raphael in the stomach. Rapahael managed to stay up and instead of falling over, head- butted the assassain in the chest. The killer staggered backwards, and Raphael saw his chance.
He thrusted flambert quickly for the assassain's heart, but the assassain brought his sword up to parry and intercept it. It did not go quite as the assassain had planned, because Raphael had managed to pivot it so that it hit the face mask.
"Aah!" he cried, staggering back as the metal mask cracked opened.
"Now, perhaps we shall see what is behind the mask." Raphael said, expecting anything.
When the mask fell off Raphael looked hard his opponent's face. It was hard and his hair was brown. The man reminded Raphael of the youth he had beaten back in China. "My name is Hwang." he informed. "Now that you've seen my face, I can't let you live."
"Someone will die here." Raphael assured. "It, however, is not going to be me."
Hwang charged again and Raphael dodged the blade, keeping his eyes and his feet focused. Every now and then Hwang would supplement his sword swings with a kick. Raphael realized now that Hwang was trying to push him into the wall to limit his mobility. Raphael decided that instead of dodging, he would have to meet the attack head on.
As Hwang supplied another sword swing followed by kick, Raphael switched flambert to his left hand and grasped Hwang's sword with his right. Feeling the sword cut the flesh in his palm, Raphael quickly stabbed his rapier into Hwang's chest. The Hwangs foot came, kicking him over.
Three seconds later, Hwang realized he was dead. Raphael had sacrificed his palm and taken a bruise to the shoulder to plant his sword into Hwangs chest. Raphael got up and silently pulled the sword out of Hwangs chest. He glared at the dead man.
"You are not enough to stop me." Raphael declared, turning and leaving.
Raphael opened the door to the tavern. Judging by the look on the owner's face, his assumption had been correct. The assassain had been no random killer in the street looking for money.
"M-master Raphael!" the man stuttered. "N-nice to see you back."
"Why so surprised?" Raphael acused, not even trying to hide the fact that he knew what the tavern owner had tried.
"Y-yo-y-you have been gone a long time is all." the tavern owner said frantically. "I thought that perhaps you had forgotten about your r-r-oom here."
"I've been gone for little more than hour." Raphael countered. "Does that constitute as a long time?"
"Well, well, welll...." the tavern owner said, trying to find an excuse. Raphael then whipped his sword out and put it at the owner's neck.
"Is it customary of your tavern to try and kill customers or am I a special case?!" Raphael demanded.
"Please don't kill me!" he demanded. "Please don't!"
"Where in the hell do you get the gaul to attack me so blatantly?" Raphael demanded, livid.
"I have nothing against you!" the owner shrieked. "It was just buisness! Buisness! The europeans! They put out an astronomical bounty on you! You couldn't blame me! I just needed the money! That's all!"
"Who put a bounty on me?" Raphael asked, not moving his sword one inch.
"The french! The french!" the man cried. "That's all I know! I swar by all that's holy that I know nothing more."
Raphael removed his sword from the man's throat then kicked him in the groin. He now realized the foolishness of revealing his true name. "Under normal circumstances, I would kill you right now. However, I am pressed for time and cannot afford to waste such precious time burying your body. Consider yourself lucky, fool."
With that Raphael fled the city.
"At least I got a bath." Raphael muttered as he rode the camel towards his destination. The camel was stubborn beast and Raphael had trouble conmvincining it to go in the direction that he wanted to. Fortunately, he had packed a lot of water and salt.
After several weeks of traveling and stopping at outposts, Raphael finally made it to the pyramid shown on the map. "This map had better been worth the trouble." Raphael muttered to himself. There was no place to tie up the camel, but Raphael managed to create a makeshift stake to tie him to.
As Raphael was about to walk into the pyramid, he heard a familiar whooshing sound. An arrow was being targeted at him. Raphael quickly ducked and rolled to see who targeted him. A man on horseback was chasing after him. He growled. Another assassain had been sent after him.
The assassain jumped off the horse which nickered and stood on two legs. "My thanks, Fuunsaaki!" the man said, then he turned towards Raphael. "I assume you are another seeker of the legendary blade Soul edge?"
Comprehension dawned on Raphael. He wasn't a hired killer: he was a rival in the race for Soul edge. "What of it?" Raphael said.
"I am the samurai Mitsurugi." he said. "If you are also seeking the sword soul edge, then it is inevitable that we fight."
"Very well then." Raphael said, taking flambert from it's sheath. "My sword is eager to taste blood."
"Let's go." Mitsurugi replied, taking out his katana. "Whatever you do, don't cry."
Raphael did not reply. He merely thrusted his sword forward. When Mitsurugi blocked the obvious attack, Raphael grabbed Mitsurugi's shoulder. To Raphael's surprise, Mitsurugi was not fooled by the first attack He twisted away from Raphael's grip, and slammed his sword towards Raphael's neck Rapahael barely dodged, but had his shoulder nicked instead.
Raphael then parried two sword strikes and tried to upthrust the samurai. Mitsurugi, however, slammed Rapahel's rapier away and moved to impale to european swordsman. Raphael, however, moved his sword quickly to block the samurai's katana.
"Impressive." Mitsurugi commented. "I did not think any of the westerners held any realization for the true power of the sword."
Raphael did not anwer, but found that from that sentence that he liked this Mitsurugi fellow and that it would be a shame to kill him. He served forward two thrusts, which Mitsurugi blocked, then rolled from a downward strike from the samurai's blade. Raphael then manged to stab the proud warrior in the back, but was not able to make the cut vey deep for Mitsurugi quickly twisted to force the sword from his back.
"Before we continue," Raphael said, keeping in his sword step. "I must know one thing."
Mitsurugi kept his sword on defensive. "What do you want?"
"Why do you seek Soul edge?"
Mitsurugi paused for a moment. "Do you fear for the future of swordsmanship?"
"What do you mean?" Raphael asked.
"In Japan, with the coming of the new westerners and their guns, swords are starting to lose their value." Mitsurugi explained. "Back in the shogunate and tokugawa eras, swordsmen were so powerful that they were feared as sorcerors. We were even known to control the wind.
"Now, though, with the guns being imported to my homeland, people are forgetting the true power of the sword. To remind them, I will bring Soul edge and defeat these blasphemous guns! I will show the world that the sword still has a place in this world! That is why I quest for Soul edge." Mitsurugi paused. "In return, I request your reason."
Raphael nodded. He could not help but feel sympathetic towards this man. His quest always took priority though, and no distractions could be given. "I met a child named Amy" he explained. "She was an angel. Pure and untainted, but ravaged by the horrors of France. She was such a wonderful girl to be with. So acceptant and resourceful. Yet, sometimes when I looked into her eyes, I saw her again as a scared child looking for her family. Whatever reason a man needs to act, for me, that child was enough."
Mitsurugi nodded. "It seems both our causes are worthy. It is not in the nature of us swordsmen to talk. We can only solve things..." Mitsurugi charged and Raphael sidestepped the attack and parried. "...with our blades."
Both charged into a furious assault of blows and parries, neither gaining any ground. That was when Raphael got a plan.
The samurai's armor was strong, but like all armors, it had weak points and defeatable places. Dodging another sword strike, Raphael moved for Mitsurugi's shoulder and gave a quick slash. Both Mitsurugi and Raphael noticed the drop in speed of Mitsurugi's next attack. The hit to the shoulder was obviously painful, but Mitsurugi was not going to be discouraged. He ignored the blood seeping from his shoulder and continued his attack. Raphael tried to move for the other shoulder, but Mitsurugi was not going to be tricked the same way twice. Raphael settled for slamming the hilt of flambert of on Mitsurugi's forehead. Instead of coiling back in pain as Raphael expected him to, Mitsurugi took impact full force without flinching.
Raphael was not too shocked to make a good reaction, however. He brought his leg up to Mitsurugi groin. No known training in human history has been able to prevent a man from coiling back from an attack such as this. Mitsurugi staggered back, his eyes watering. Raphael now had an inescapable opening.
Flambert flashed wildly. Raphael offered no chance of defense to Mitsurugi. Mitsurugi gained more and more injuries in an almost instantaneous amount of time. In a matter of seconds, the samurai fell to the sand, a bloody heap.
"D- Dammit." Mitsurugi muttered. Then he passed out.
"Not a bad dance." Raphael commented, sheathing Flambert. "Perhaps we shall meet again one day, worthy adversary."
Raphael turned to the pyramid and found the entrance.
End Chapter 4.