She would follow through on her word. This Ujiwara knew—because The White Feather was an honorable warrior.

Unlike me.

The Sword of a Thousand Suns had left The White Feather to lick her wounds, and now he was making his way across the battle lines, stealthily evading detection from enemy forces flanking Hukama’s army in the harbor, which was now fighting on two fronts.

It mattered not. He jumped across a roof, landing and rolling to break his fall. It was a smooth movement, but nowhere near as light and stealthy as her. Had she wanted, The White Feather could probably be the greatest assassin who ever lived—her magical arts were so rare and unique as to be a surprise even to Ujiwara.

I will face you again, Ujiwara, she had said. A duel of swords—a public challenge that all will know and speak off…

Looking down at her, broken and laying in an abandoned street, he had realized he wanted more out of their fight, which hadn’t really even been a duel of swords—simply a fight between warriors of some legendary renown.

It was too obscure a thing to defeat her where none could see, amidst a war. It was messy—with too much confusion. It had angered him.

He crested the tiled roof he was on and a small street square came into his field of view. There he saw three ninja, Muji, also known as The Masked Demon, and some other man—a foreigner that looked to be a mage, as he was hurling fireballs as he fought against Hukama’s hired witch.

He wondered what his sensei would do should he find out Ujiwara would be acting against his interests, which were now in moderate conflict with his own to take the city.

I should be acting to stop that flanking maneuver, he thought, glancing toward the battle behind him.

But no. The White Feather had made him a promise—assist the man she had arrived with, and she would later fight him, on his terms.

And so he was here.

They were not faring well. These pathetic, weak warriors didn’t stand a chance against Hukama’s witch and her apprentice.