Chapter XXII—Shōzu Versus Rōkura

Oh yes, I will have my true revenge when this is over. Perhaps Shōzu would have his the man who scourged this Rōkura a little too hard, a little too many times. Perhaps he could end her that way.

And if not like that—then later.

“Kota Hasegawa!” called Shōzu through his teeth, his browns knitted and his gaze of hate directed directly at Rōkura.

Rōkura waited with bated breath with Hans and Shinjiro at her side. She was worried, for she knew nothing of the man coming forth to present himself as Shōzu’s champion.

The crowd parted as a tall man with long black hair and a handsome face came forward. He wore blue-silk garments that hugged his upper body but fanned out like a kimono. The muscles on his arms were pronounced—like a statue, and his boyish brown eyes bellied the seriousness of his square jaw and strong cheekbones.

To keep his hair back, Kota Hasegawa wore a black bandana with no script or symbolism attached. “I am here,” he said, his voice not unpleasant or aggressive.

Shōzu took in a deep breath and smiled with arrogant pride.

“I present my champion,” said Rōkura. “Lord Hans Bellefeuille.”

The crowd muttered and some of the members sniggered. From a distance, Suko was present, though neither Rōkura nor Shōzu were aware. She wondered how such a little man would have any chance against Kota.

“Then…” said Hikaru with ominous warning. “Spread out—give them room to fight!”

“What are the conditions of the fight?” asked Shōzu.

“The first to surrender,” said Daichi.

“So,” Kota said to Hans. “You are the champion of my master’s enemy?”

“It seems so, good man.”

“Then I wish you luck in our duel.”

“Oh… same to you, friend.”

“Hmph.”

“Are both champions ready?” asked Hikaru as he stood between then, though he didn’t block their view of one another.

“I am,” said Hans agreeably, and he smiled, knowing this might be the only way to get back into Rōkura’s good graces.

He didn’t know at that time, but Rōkura forgave him the moment he stepped forward to offer himself as her champion.

“I am also ready,” Kota said.

“Then you must fight!”

Hikaru slashed the air between them and stepped away.

Everyone in the crowd was silent. The breeze had died down, seemingly for this moment. The fires crackled filling the space with their comforting heat.

Kota drew his sword and held it in a modest pose in front of himself with the hilt low at his waist while Hans lifted his white-gloved hands. He wore black trousers and a fine black jacket with a white stripe running down the side.

In his glasses and his fine clothes, Hans looked more like a master servant than a dueling champion,.

Shinjiro silently chided himself, knowing he should have offered his sword to Hans—but neither had Rōkura, so perhaps it was best that he did not fight with a weapon.

The two combatants circled one another slowly as they took each other in, gauging each other’s power levels and possible abilities, how effective and dangerous their responses would be to one another.

If I don’t win this duel, Rōkura is certain to have a very terrible experience later. He couldn’t let that happen. Hans wouldn’t allow it.

He was small, but Kota did not underestimate him, even though he had sniffed with disdain before, he had only done so out of loyalty to his master. Keeping his sword held defensively between himself and this small man, Kota followed the arc of his encirclement to keep himself level with his opponent.

Hans narrowed his eyes, decided to test this fighter a little.

With a lunge forward, he quickly back stepped to safety before Kota could lash out and attack him.

Kota had tensed, but he had not moved.

Hans smiled as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Two can play that game.

Kota swung his katana at the small man in a sideways arc and he sidestepped away from the attack that would have otherwise cut his head off.

“Not bad,” Hans said.

“Hmph.”

“Is that all you say?”

Kota was in no mood to talk. “If you wanted to talk, we should have litigated the affairs of our masters in a court of law, not here in a dual!”

He lashed out at Hans, his katana flashing and whirling.

Hans stepped back, he dodges, his let his shoes slide across the smooth tiles underneath his feet as he evaded those strikes. He was good—this Kota. But now that Hans had a reasonable understand, he thought it was time to press the attack.

He has had a taste of my aggression, and now he will press the attack. Kota readied himself as the small man danced upon his legs, testing out his weight on each one, ready to strike like a serpent at any moment.

Normally Shinjiro would not have rooted for Hans—but at this juncture, that’s all he had. The very thought of watching Rōkura stripped and flogged in the public square made him queasy. “Come on,” he muttered.

Rōkura watched the movements of both fighters with apprehension and worry. She worried for Hans, since this Kota Hasegawa was a lapdog of a treacherous murderer, and Hans had no weapons.

And I also don’t want to be flogged half to death. But I will never let that happen! Rōkura prepared herself for what might happen, and to her horror, she knew she was ready for anything.

Anything.

Except for the deaths of her friends.

That would be the only think stopping her from going into her Rage state if she must. These people that surrounded themselves by the daimyo were corrupt, even the shōgun, who seemed to care very little about bringing any form of justice to Shōzu for murdering Banjo!

He didn’t deserve to die, and I will have vengeance for his life!

Rōkura blinked, whipped out of her thoughts as the crowd gasped. Kota was moving in, slashing at Hans, who stepped out of reach just inches from his blade.

The oni wanted to wince—no she did wince—with every sword strike that came so close to ending Hans. This duel was unfair. Should Hans be struck in the neck or face by Kota’s blade, it would be over for him.

Hans lurched back, then he lunged forward, jumped and called out “TRANSFORMATION MAGIC!”

Everyone gasped and a thriller of horror and excitement shot up through Rōkura’s stomach up into her chest as she held her breath.

Hans transformed into a can and screamed in the air, lashing out at Kota’s face. Laughs abounded as she shook himself, brushing at Hans with his hand.

The cat—or rather Hans the cat—fell to the ground and scratched at Kota’s legs, but it was no use. The warrior stabbed down at the ground and Rōkura drew in a sharp breath through her teeth.

Screaming and lashing out at the warrior, who was now mountainous compared to himself, Hans dodged the sword strike that hit the tile floor beside him. He jumped between Kota’s legs, turned and launched himself at the warrior’s back, sinking his hooked claws into the fabric of his clothes as he drove toward the back of his head.

As Kota jerked his body about, grunting and grasping at Hans the the cat, everyone laughed.

“That’s it, Cat Man!” cried Shinjiro and Rōkura glanced at him with surprise.

Is he enjoying this?

Kota grabbed Hans and yanked him off, flinging him across the space where he flipped and turned, landing on his feet.

Momentarily stunned, Hans the cat exploded in a white cloud where a silhouette of is normal form came running out.

When Kota turned to confront him, a thrill of surprise and fear shot through him as he tried to slash his attacker.

Hans hit Kota’s wrist, knocking his sword out of the way before he pummeled the warrior in the chest with rapid punches.

Kota stumbled back and winced.

“Hey—he did that to me too!” said Shinjiro indignantly.

“Except this time you have to support him,” Rōkura said.

“I do support him,” Shinjiro said.

“I see you like tricks,” Kota said calmly.

Hans smiled. “I have all sorts of tricks up my sleeves.”

“Hmph.”

“Then try tricking your way out of this!” Kota lurched forward, striking at Hans, once, twice, then he called out, “FLURRY OF ARASHI!” and his speed increased tenfold, his body and his blade blurring with incredible power as he shot toward Hans with unnatural strength and blinding speed.

Hans grunted, jumped and rolled out of the way as Kota angled around and came straight back at him.

Jumping back, Hans tried to put distance between himself at Kota until his ability attack finished, but dancing around someobody moving with speed like that was easier said than—

“Gyaayaayaaa!”

He stumbled, fell on his backside and was nearly cut into ribbons but just managed to roll out of Kota’s path as his blade, struck the tiles multiple times where he had been laying.

Lurching to his knees, Hans then pushed off the ground and jumped over the bowl of crackling flames, forcing Kota to move around in pursuit.

Then finally Kota came out of his ability attack and stalked back around the bowl of fire where everyone could see him, disappointment clearly etched on his face.

Hans glanced toward Rōkura and she smiled wanly, nodding as encouraging as she could, but the truth was, Hans nearly got killed just now. Come on—don’t lose to him!

The crowd was in a heightened state of interested and amazement now as they muttered among themselves, hissing and taking private wagers.

Utterly demeaning. But it would soon be over, that much Shōzu knew as he watched Kota. Most of the onlookers probably had no idea that this fight was already finished. It was clear that Hans Bellefeuille was far less skilled in the martial arts than Kota Hasegawa!

If Kota would just turn his back long enough, Hans might be able to strike him with his Crystal Encasement ability, thereby freezing him in place for a manner of moments. Then I can deliver the knockout blow.

Kota surged forward, striking at Hans with quick, short cuts.

Hans turned his shoulders, leaned back, dodging Kota’s blows. He attempted to get his arms into a position where he could hit Kota in the wrist once again—maybe disarm him and—

Everything flashed white as Kota punched Hans in the face, causing him to retreat in a stumbling back step, whereupon his glasses slipped off his nose and fell to the tiles.

He went to pick them up when Kota jumped with a loud grunt. Hans shrunk back, abandoning his lenses as Kota’s foot landed atop them in a shatter of glass and bent metal rims.

“Oh no,” gasped Rōkura. “He can barely see without those.”

“Just like you.”

She looked at him. Now was not the time for friendly barbs. Hans was in trouble.

Kota pressed his attack, his sword providing a major obstacle for Hans to get around, but he thought he could do it.

With a quick lurch to the side and a sliding of his shoes over the tiles, he managed to come up on Kota’s side and deliver several sharp, but ultimately ineffectual blows.

The swordsman took the blows and turned. When Hans hit his wrist out of the way, thereby giving Hans free access to Kota’s face and vital areas, Rokura was sure he would land an excellent hit when—

“Hngh!” Hans gasped as Kota’s knee slammed into his chest.

He stumbled back.

Rōkura gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. Her eyes instinctually went to Shōzu who was smiling as he watched, but then he too glanced toward Rōkura. She averted her gaze back to the fight.

“Hans!” she shouted. “Take him down!”

Inwardly he laughed with the futile nature of what Rōkura wanted. I wish I could, Oni-san. And then he sustained another attack from Kota when he lifted his leg and kicked outward, landed a blow on Hans’ waist.

It sent him flying into the tiles.

He hit, grunted and rolled like a ragdoll.

Kota did not pursue.

For a moment, most of the watchers, including Rōkura, thought that Hans was finished, for he did not move for a time.

Then finally, with a grunt, he stained, pushed himself up ,and back to his feet, where he stood on shaky legs.

The fire bowl crackled strongly, hissing with the sudden rainfall. The drops were thick and cold, and lightning flashed.

Everyone shouted with sudden surprise.

If truth be told, mostly it was the women who shouted, then turned and ran, many of which dragged their men with them back toward the castle entrance.

A fight like this could be watched with raptured interest, but throw a little rain in the mix, and most of the feckless nobles and rich folks vying for the attentions of the shōgun and the daimyo would melt away like dust washed off the surface of the tiles in the storm.

However, many individuals did not stir or run for cover, including the Taishi Six, the samurai surrounding the dueling arena, the shōgun and his aides and guards, and of course, Shōzu and his immediate company.

Even the daimyo’s wife had run away.

Suko was seen by Shinjiro from a distance, but the samurai didn’t know who she was. Rōkura, however, did, but she barely noticed the woman, since Hans was in trouble.

With his hips hurting and the burns in his face smarting, Hans winced. The cold rain felt good, but he knew, this fight was probably over.

“Do you surrender?” asked Kota calmly.