Chapter XXIX—Sir Knight

Sir Alaric leaned up against a thick wooden beam. There was just enough light to see by between them all in this shadowed area of the building. Everywhere they were surrounded by building materials, creating a warren of construction.

With just her wakizashi blade—her shōtō, or “short sword” Rōkura knew was not unarmed. And even if she were… she’d still rip his throat out with his bare hands. Heart still beating fast form her exertions in chasing after them, she stood and walked out into the light.

The men turned.

“Oh-no!”

“It’s her!”

“How did she—“

“Quiet!” snapped Sir Alaric. “It doesn’t matter how,” he told his stupid pages. “The fact is, she’s hear, and now we have to deal with her.”

“Those glowing eyes—like a demon.”

“A trick,” Sir Alaric said with a grin.

Rōkura returned his haughty smile. “I assure you—it’s not trick. Ogai-sama gave me these eyes.”

“Oh gods,” one of the mean breathed, and Sir Alaric’s smile faltered.

“So that’s why you’re here? On behalf of Ogai?”

Standing barefoot on the cool flooring, Rōkura held onto her wakizashi scabbard, her other hand firmly on the hilt, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. These men might be lower level targets—but they were still capable and dangerous.

That didn’t change the way she felt about them.

She was going to enjoy this.

“Aren’t you the owner of the Western Girls Club?” asked Rōkura.

“What of it?” the knight said in a mixture of curiosity and defensiveness.

“I hear the girls in your establishment have it pretty rough,” she said. “Really rough in fact. You personally beat one of your girls senseless. She’s still lying in a physician’s ward, thanks to my coin—otherwise she’s be dead.”

He sneered. “Do you work for Ogai or not? What do you care what I do with my girls—they’re just filthy whores anyway.”

Heat rose to her face. “Her name is Ceilia,” breathed Rōkura, “and she’s not the first girl you’ve killed.”

His pages glanced between them, their eyes wide and fear covering their features. Sir Alaric sniffed with derisive amusement. “I thought you said she was in physician’s ward?”

“She’d be in a gutter somewhere if it wasn’t for me!”

“Listen oni-bitch—I don’t see why any of this is your concern.”

She shrugged. “Normally it’s not.” She narrowed her eyes with anger. “But it makes me feel better about killing you.”

And with that she launched herself at Sir Alaric, drawing her wakizashi blade as she flew across the dark space.

His men screamed and Alaric blocked her strike.

Rōkura’s sword flashed and a skirl of shrieking metal and flying sparks lit the space, a huge gaunt of blood issuing from the page’s neck on his left.

Sir Alaric jumped back, landed, his feet causing a whirl of dust behind him as his pages fanned out and drew their swords. The knight’s eyes were wide, his surprise evident to Rōkura.

She’s fast!

Sir Alaric knew there was no way he would beat this assassin on his own. But… if his pages kept her buys, he might be able to get away to safety.

“How…?” said one of the pages.

“He killed Ivar!” another shouted in a snarl behind his raised blade.

“Yes,’ said Rōkura. “Ivar is dead. And you three are next.” She said the words while pointing her wakizashi blade at them. “Then I’m going to kill Sir Alaric Deen.”

“Heh!” scoffed the knight. “We will see, oni! Men—kill her!”

They glanced back at their knight with apprehension, then they came forward. This was just making things easier.

They lunged at her, their blades flashing in what little light was available. Rōkura whirled between them, taking one of the pages across the stomach. She moved with such speed, that the blood spray was something she could avoid as she pirouetted between them.

Another growled as his comrade cried out and died on the floor. He swung his blade at her, but she turned her shoulders and missed the attack, then she grabbed him by the face and slammed him into the rough wooden floors.

His nose exploded as his skull cracked.

Rōkura made certain to end him by slamming her feet down on his neck. His bones popped and snapped like little sticks.

One of the pages screamed. “She just killed Quentin!”

She lunged, landing with her knee bent and her back leg outstretched for balance. The page came at her while the other circled around behind.

Rōkura jumped, rolled and whirled, taking her immediate threat in the back, missing the blood spray as he screamed by quickly stepping away.

She needed no mask.

Even though her ability to level was no completely gone because of No Dice, Rōkura had still improved in her abilities, and fighting lower level fighters like these, she could dance around them like they were puppets.

“So,” she said wickedly. “Ivor and Quentin are dead. No clue what his name is”—she gestured to the second unnamed man she had killed—“what’s yours?”

He started shaking.

“Run now and I won’t pursue you.”

He screamed, dropped his sword and took off into the dark. Rōkura smirked, whirled and ran after Sir Alaric, who thought he could escape if he left his men to die sacrificing themselves for him.

She didn’t mind killing them—they were as culpable as he was, but they were such small fish, she cared little for them, and neither did they give her the same satisfaction when she ended their pathetic lives.

Sir Alaric came out onto the street and squinted as the last of the sun’s red-orange rays shot through the mountain passes. He was about to run to freedom and safety, when he heard footsteps patter behind him,

He whirled, saving himself just as the oni’s blade struck his in a flash of power and sparks.

Alaric jumped back, growled. “So, they couldn’t slow you down, even enough for me to get away?”

“I let the last one go.”

“That’s not like you—goody-two shoes that you obviously are.”

She sneered. “What kind of knight leaves his men to die for him like that?”

The people outside on the street were watching with bated breath—those that hadn’t gasped and ran away at Rōkura’s attempted murder of him.

“What do you know—“ he lunged at her with his blade, but she skirled the attack to the side—“about knights!”

“I know how to read!”

Their blades flashed, and Sir Alaric gave ground quickly. “You are a disgrace to your knightly code of conduct, a stain on your order.”

“Shut up!” he snarled, striking at her with a loud growled. Then he called out an ability attack. “RUSH OF VENGEANCE!”

His body shot forward.

Sir Alaric would have trambled her, his feet slamming hard against the sobblestones as if he weight that of ten men, but she had jumped to the side, rolled and came back up.

She struck out and nicked him in the back.

“Ah,” he said with a smile, and moved his shoulders. “You hit me in the back.”

“I’m no knight,” she said. “I’ll kill you in the dark, cut your throat, or stab you in the back.”

He smirked. “SO WILL I!” he attacked.

His blade skirled and flashed, the narrow tapering edge nearly taking her across the face more than once as she snarled and gnashed her teeth, her blade saving her from certain death a dozen times over in the space of a breath.

But Sir Alaric didn’t have what it took to overpower her, to be quicker than her—more deadly.

Their blades shrieked, and Rōkura turned her wrist, taking Sir Alaric across the forearm. His hand came off, along with his blade.

There was a wet fwump on the cobblestones along with the clang of his blade. Blood shot forth, dripping and squiring. The smell was… invigorating, but Rokura held herself back, taking in a long breath through her half-opened mouth, her white toothy grin demonic in his eyes.

“Hnnnngh!” he groaned painfully.

“You might want to staunch the flow…”

Wincing, Sir Alaric found the fortitude and nerve to bite some words off as she loomed over him with glowing evil eyes. “You… Fucking. Bitch!”

“No,” she said. “I’m not fucking you—I’m killing you.”

She lifted her bloody wakizashi.

The blade glinted with an orange corona from the sunlight.