Swordsmanship

The Kusanagi Clan's secret temporary base had been secretly constructed after the founding of Takigakure.

The place was not large, but it was enough to temporarily house the clan. There were not many people in the entire clan, only a few hundred. Even for a Shinobi Clan that claimed every member was a ninja, they could barely scrape together a hundred actual shinobi. Most were genin or chunin, able to master only one to three techniques of the same elemental nature, and could exhaust their chakra after using them five or six times.

At this level, shinobi generally relied more on close-quarters swordplay and long-range kunai throws. This was especially true of the Kusanagi Clan.

However, the Kusanagi Clan also had a large number of orphan cannon-fodder genin attached to it.

But in Yura's eyes, they were merely samurai who knew a few little tricks and could run faster and jump higher.

She walked brazenly through the streets of the temporary base. Torches burned and flickered around her. Children in their teens, or even only a few years old, stood guard with ninja blades in hand, their faces full of wary vigilance. Patrols formed from them roamed almost without rest. Their eyes held numbness and lifelessness, their nearly identical faces stiff as ice. Upon seeing Shin-getsu, an official member of the Kusanagi Clan, they respectfully bowed and let them pass without suspicion or inspection.

Watching this scene with interest, Yura could not help thinking of how Orochimaru loved taking in orphans. Was that a family trait?

The journey was completely unobstructed. Following Shin-getsu, Yura soon arrived at a main residence, a typical Japanese-style courtyard that emphasized a tranquil atmosphere while displaying the authority of a Shinobi Clan.

Shin-getsu stepped forward and spoke with the layers of guards, informing them that he had important intelligence to report.

The guarding Kusanagi Clan shinobi did not dare delay. Pressing a hand to the sword at his waist, he used the Body Flicker Technique to leave. He returned shortly afterward and informed Shin-getsu that he could have an audience.

They passed through a courtyard filled with flowers, trees, hills, and water, arriving at a Japanese-style room in the main building, where they met the Kusanagi Clan's patriarch.

He was a middle-aged man in his thirties, thin and tall, dressed in a plain white kimono. A knotted rope hung behind his waist. It was a shimenawa, commonly seen at shrines, signifying sanctity. It also served as a marker for barriers and carried the meaning of protection. As a member of the clan that guarded the sacred Kusanagi Sword, the meaning of wearing a shimenawa and becoming a barrier to protect it could not have been clearer.

A longsword hung at the man's waist, a straight, double-edged blade. Yura recognized it at a glance. This was the Kusanagi Sword, also known as Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi, or the Sky Tachi.

"Shin-getsu, what do you have to report?" the patriarch asked.

At those words, Shin-getsu's eyelids twitched. He covertly glanced sideways at Yura, who stood nearby with a calm expression and a faint smile at her lips.

Even having witnessed it with his own eyes, he still could not believe how she had swaggered all the way here without anyone noticing anything strange.

Her assassination techniques were simply too terrifying.

Shin-getsu closed his eyes. He could already see the patriarch's corpse.

Caught off guard and ambushed, there was simply no reason he could think of for the man to survive.

"I heard that among the clan, your swordsmanship is supreme."

The man jolted in alarm and whipped his head toward Yura, his pupils violently contracting and expanding, his face filled with shock and disbelief.

Weak. Far too weak.

He could not even detect anything unusual. He was nothing more than an ordinary human.

Yura looked at this man, the man she could once only look up to.

"Who are you?!" the man demanded in a low voice. His body instinctively tensed, his relaxed sitting posture shifting into a half-crouch as he rose, his right hand hovering over the hilt at his waist.

"As expected, you don't remember a nobody like me." Yura smiled faintly, her scarlet eyes fixed on him. "Patriarch, Kusanagi Kijuro..."

"You are..." The man's face darkened as he thought uncertainly. "You didn't die at the hands of the God of Shinobi?"

"Yes." Yura said, "Thanks to the clan's care, I've returned."

A shadow rose in his eyes as the man asked in a deep voice, "Was the attack outside the village your doing?"

Yura did not answer such a boring question. She drew Onikiri from her waist.

"Patriarch, I recently had a small realization and devised a sword technique. I hope you'll guide me." Yura smiled faintly.

"Onikiri—!" The man's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the demonic blood-red blade in Yura's hand. "You can actually wield that demon sword?!"

As he rose, the man slowly drew the Kusanagi Sword. Its snow-white, four-sided blade was stained with a cold scarlet hue in the candlelight.

Yura lightly stroked the spine of the blade, then flicked it with a bent finger. The scarlet blade became ever more crimson and chilling. The sword responded with an excited, bloodthirsty hum.

Icy killing intent filled the room...

Watching this scene, Shin-getsu held his breath.

"It's strange. This sword seems as though it was born waiting for my arrival." Yura smiled faintly, scarlet eyes flickering in the candlelight with wavering Demon Fire.

No, real Demon Fire had ignited.

Red Secret Technique: Infinite Blade

Hair spread along the fine patterns on the blade and the residue of blood and grease upon it, covering it densely. Faint blue sparks danced until blue Demon Fire spread over and engulfed the entire blade. Howling skeletons of vengeful spirits twisted and churned within the ghostly blue flames of karma.

Ordinary swords could not withstand Yura's Demon Fire, but Onikiri was different.

The flames burned for only an instant before extinguishing. The blade remained scarlet and cold.

"You actually..." Kusanagi Kijuro's eyes trembled slightly as he said with difficulty, "developed Onikiri to this extent... the flames of hell formed from resentment and hatred..." His feet shifted slowly over the tatami. As he moved sideways, he cautiously widened the distance and read Yura's sword aura...

What was sword aura?

It was not something as boring as a long-range slash flung out with a sword. It was a kind of presence, something belonging to swordsmen.

Yura held the sword in both hands and took her stance, raising the blade beside the right side of her face, its tip pointed toward the ceiling.

This was the Kusanagi Style Swordsmanship she had learned not long ago, a tachi technique: Ichi no Tachi.

Seeing that stance, Kusanagi Kijuro's eyelids twitched.

It was a killing strike, and also a strike of certain death. Ichi no Tachi was swung with the resolve to die, with an unwavering, forceful attitude. Either the enemy died, or she did.

It was an unspoken language understood only between swordsmen.

It was also the ultimate disregard and humiliation.

This desperate swordsmanship used by rank-and-file soldiers required only a few days of training to trade one-for-one with a well-trained samurai on the battlefield.

"You..." His eyes were filled with gravity. This was a perception understood only between swordsmen. Kusanagi Kijuro said coldly, "You monster, have you lost all joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure...?"

Without "joy," there was no fighting spirit. Without "anger," there was no killing intent. Without the emotion of "sorrow," one would have no mercy or hesitation when killing. Thus, in battle, one's opponent could not read one's sword aura.

Therefore, in a sword duel that emphasized speed and striking first, it became impossible to easily judge the opponent's next move.

This gave one the advantage of striking first in a duel between swordsmanship masters.

And blade duels were fast, very fast. A single blink was enough to decide life and death.

In battles between shinobi, they often exchanged dozens of blows back and forth. In Yura and the Kusanagi Clan's eyes, that was truly a child's game.

Cold sweat silently trickled down Kusanagi Kijuro's forehead, cheeks, and back.

After becoming a monster, Yura had already reached the level of a sword saint in both reading and concealing sword aura. The Kusanagi Clan had always sought to erase human emotions and turn people into perfect swordsmen. Yura was the clan's greatest masterpiece.

"Do you have any last words, Lord Kijuro?" Yura merely held her blade in stance and smiled faintly. "If you do not intend to attack first, then I'm coming..."

In truth, once Yura had gotten this close without Kusanagi Kijuro noticing her, he already knew that her attainments in swordsmanship had long surpassed his own, unfathomable as a demon or god.

Sweat dripped from his chin.

If he could not read her sword aura and his sword path was predicted and seen through, then he would not even be able to take a single strike. So, should he provoke her?

"Sure enough, with your talent in swordsmanship, I should have killed you back then!"

"You know, don't you?! The village where you were born! I was the one who led people to massacre it!"

"Those lowly peasants refused to hand over their food! So I had no choice but to order them all killed! And your parents..."

Yura smiled faintly. During the Warring States Era, Shinobi Clans were short on funds, and occasionally moonlighting as bandits to gather supplies was perfectly normal. Yura had taken part in such things as well. Otherwise, raising so many orphans would have been difficult.

Looking into those calm, indifferent scarlet eyes without a ripple, invisible terror and despair gripped Kusanagi Kijuro's heart tightly, nearly stopping it.

"Die—!!!"

With a thunderous roar, a lightning-fast thrust shot from Kusanagi Kijuro's hand!

Shin-getsu closed his eyes. Though his swordsmanship was terrible, even he could see that the patriarch had been completely defeated in the clash of sword auras!

He did not understand the sword. Seeing Yura was like a frog at the bottom of a well gazing at the moon. Kusanagi Kijuro understood the sword. Seeing Yura was like a mayfly beholding the heavens.

Thus, he was even more despairing and broken.