Page 58 of Shadow of the Fox

“Neither.”

I could sense his surprise, even though the demon mask gave nothing away. The ronin was mistaken; ideals of honor and glory meant very little to me. I had no pride to stand on, no loss of face to endure. Despite appearances, I wasn’t samurai; I was a Kage shinobi, one who struck from the shadows, who used misdirection and tricks to best my foes. Shinobi were already seen as dishonorable assassins, because true bushi faced their enemies head-on and did not stoop to skulking in the dark. I had my personal honor, and followed the code of the Shadow Clan, but Bushido wasn’t as important as completing my mission, at any cost.

If I could have avoided this battle, I would have. But Oni no Mikoto was an obstacle, and it would take too much time to find a path around. “I would rather not fight here,” I told him, feeling Hakaimono rise up like a blood-filled typhoon. “But you’re in my way, and I have a mission to complete. I’m not going to cross blades with you, I’m going to cut a path right through you to the other side.”

“Excellent!” Oni no Mikoto sounded ecstatic. “You honor me with your acceptance. Come then, Kage-san. Let us see whose skills are sharper.”

“Yumeko,” I said, not taking my eyes from my opponent, “get back. This is my fight, understand? Don’t try to interfere.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her take a step toward me. “Don’t die,” she ordered quietly. “You promised to take me to the Steel Feather temple. It would be very rude to break your promise by getting killed, Tatsumi-san.”

“I’m not going to die,” I told her. Within, Hakaimono was growing stronger, a surging tide of violence and bloodlust. “Go,” I repeated. “Get to safety. This will be over soon.”

The ronin pushed himself off the railing. “This should be interesting,” he said, and moved away, retreating several yards down the bridge and giving us plenty of room. After a moment, Yumeko followed.

I faced Oni no Mikoto over the center of the river, the moon shining down on us both, lighting the bridge. A cold breeze hissed across the planks from the water, ruffling my clothes and tossing his long hair.

“Does your sword have a name, Kage-san?” Oni no Mikoto asked.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I’m a scholar of the blade. I have studied the history of Iwagoto’s swordsmanship, its finest warriors and weapon smiths, and through the years, the names of a few special blades have appeared time and time again. The emperor’s sword, Dawn’s Glory. The paired blades of the famed duelist, Mizu Sasaki. If your sword does have a name, I would like very much to hear it. It would be a great honor to cross blades with a weapon from the history scrolls.”

“There is no honor in this sword’s name.”

Oni no Mikoto’s head tilted, as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You...are of the Shadow Clan,” he said slowly. “There are but two swords of note that originated within the Kage. Sasori, the blade of the Shadow Clan daimyo...and the cursed sword that brought destruction to the land and nearly wiped the Kage from existence.”

I felt a smile creep, unbidden across my face, as I heard myself speaking words that weren’t entirely my own. “A true oni would know better than to cross blades with Kamigoroshi.”

“Then it is true,” Oni no Mikoto whispered, sounding faintly in awe. “You possess the Godslayer, the cursed sword of the Kage.”

I took a breath, pushing the other presence down and reclaiming my voice. “You can turn back,” I told him softly, as Hakaimono snarled at me, annoyed. “Kamigoroshi doesn’t care what soul it devours, be it human or demon. There is still time to bow out. You said so yourself—it is no dishonor to acknowledge a superior opponent.”

“Kage-san.” Oni no Mikoto stepped forward. He was shaking, but it wasn’t in fear, I realized, but excitement. “This is the fight I have searched for my whole life. Long I have waited for a worthy opponent, one who would push me beyond the limit of my skills. How many can say they have dueled a legend? How many can say they have crossed blades with the sword that almost single-handedly destroyed one of the Great Clans? No, Kage-san, I will not relinquish this battle.” He raised his own weapon in a two-handed grip, the curved sword glittering between us like a shaft of moonlight. “I am Oni no Mikoto, the undefeated blade of the Taiyo, and it will be an honor to fight you.”

I hesitated a moment more, then slowly drew Kamigoroshi. It howled eagerly as it was unsheathed, baleful purple light spilling over the planks.

We faced each other on the bridge, unmoving, the wind tugging at our hair and clothes. I stood motionless, Kamigoroshi loose at my side, while Oni no Mikoto did the same, his blade held upright in two hands. Time seemed to slow, each of us sizing up our opponent, gauging strengths and weaknesses, waiting for that moment we would both explode into battle.

Not yet, I thought, as Oni no Mikoto shifted his stance just slightly, drawing one foot behind the other. I tightened my grip on Kamigoroshi, feeling my muscles tense and Hakaimono’s impatience flare, eager for blood.He’s going to come in fast. Be ready—

With a crash and a splintering of boards, a huge serpentine creature burst out from under the bridge, rising fifteen feet into the air between us. Pale light gleamed off a hardened carapace, and dozens of segmented yellow legs skittered over the planks as the creature crawled onto the bridge. A bulbous crimson head swung around to face me, green ichor dripping from two sickle-like mandibles, as the omukade, a giant, man-eating centipede, reared up with a piercing hiss and lunged.

24

The Great Omukade

My stomach seemed to drop to my toes.

A monstrous centipede loomed into the air, towering over Tatsumi and Oni no Mikoto, making them look like insects themselves. Its segmented carapace was jet-black, its head bright crimson, and two lethal mandibles opened like a pair of sickles as it sped toward Tatsumi.

The warrior dodged, springing aside, and brought Kamigoroshi across the centipede’s back in a flash of purple light. But the blade screeched off the armor-like chitin, leaving a gaping scar in the carapace but unable to pierce through.

“Kuso!” Okame scrambled backward as the monster spun on Tatsumi, dozens of legs clacking over the planks, and lunged again. Once more, the demonslayer leaped aside, and the pinchers sank into the railing behind him, slicing clean through the wood like it was rice paper. Tatsumi cut at the huge yokai, this time aiming for the bright yellow legs. With a spurt of green ichor, three severed appendages clattered to the bridge, twitching and thrashing about, but the omukade writhed around to follow him, not slowed in the least.

An arrow bounced off the shiny carapace, then another, and a third. “Dammit,” Okame growled, firing a fourth arrow at the monster’s head. It skidded off the top of its skull, and the centipede didn’t even look up.“Kuso,”the ronin spat, reaching back for another arrow. “Tough ugly bastard. Every spot is armored. At this rate, it’ll eat Kage-san and then come after us.”

Oni no Mikoto suddenly appeared, leaping over the centipede’s long, writhing body and raising his sword over his head. The omukade, still facing off with Tatsumi, didn’t notice the masked swordsman until the Demon Prince sliced down with his blade. Like Kamigoroshi, it screeched off the monster’s thick carapace, and the centipede whirled on him with a hiss.

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