Shattered Destinies, Part 4

Minutes earlier…

The soldiers rushed into the Main Hall, ambushing the meditating monks still inside.

Blood stained the walls as the monks were butchered without a chance to retaliate. Their throats were slit to ensure silence before being killed. Arms, legs and even heads were strewn across the floor as the soldiers carried out their task with ruthless efficiency.

In less than a minute, all the monks in the Main Hall were dead.

More soldiers of all kinds filled the hall silently, quickly arranging themselves in formation with flawless discipline despite the gruesome scenery.

Soldiers wielding swords and polearms stood at the front of the formation, while archers and gunmen were behind, ready to give support.

Heavy footsteps echoed against stone floors as Takeda Shingen entered the hall.

His blood-red armor gleamed in the moonlight.

He stood tall over his soldiers. Two Sacred Treasures were in his hand.

Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, one of the Three Great Treasures, lay in his right hand. The entire katana was snow-white, from the pommel to the tip of the blade. As it moved, it seemed to give off its own ethereal glow, making it look almost unreal.

Yatsuka no Tsurugi, one of the Ten Lesser Treasures, lay in his left hand. It had a red hilt and pitch-black blade. Its tsuba was circular, with eight bars protruding from it. 

With both swords in his hand, Takeda looked invincible. He certainly felt that way too. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be victorious today.

“Open the doors.”

Pushing open the doors, the samurai rushed out of the Main Hall.

Upon seeing them, monks on high watchtowers rang huge bells, alerting the rest of the Temple to the intruders as the sounds echoed through the night. Arrows soon found their way into their throats, but their work was done.

The monks rushed out of their respective dwellings in mass, still surprised by the invasion.

The two armies clashed, waves of bodies pushing and pulling against each other in a bath of blood and sweat.

Gun blasts sounded, each one accompanied by the dull thud of a monk’s body falling to the floor.

Screams and blood filled the night air as the fierce battle continued.

Archers perched on top of the Temple buildings struck true, picking off the gunmen one by one.

The samurai archers retaliated and soon, the night was filled with the whistle of released arrows and the thud of bodies falling to the floor.

In the midst of the chaos, a great wind began to blow into the Temple from all sides. It grew continuously, becoming an overpowering gale of pure force. The samurai were scattered about, some crushed against stone as the wind blew them away. The monks, however, began to cheer. The wind was having no effect on them, not even a flutter of their robes.

Takeda knew exactly what was causing this. The Shaman defenders of the White Temple had awoken.

A flicker of a smile lit up his face.

A month ago, Takeda and his personal advisers had come to the Temple of the White Order, requesting help for the war.

Master Gyatso had sternly told them no. An expected response, given the White Order’s codes. But that wasn’t the only reason they had come.

Apart from verifying the presence of the Chikaeshi-no-tama, Akagi had identified the Shamans in the Temple from their visit. His exact words flashed through Shingen’s mind.

“There are only five shamans here. The boy they called Ichiji is the strongest

here. That geezer Gyatso is right after him. The rest are lightweight.”

Takeda crouched before speeding off towards the Shamans. Before long, the three of them were in his vision. The one in the middle was the one causing the gale to blow through the Temple.

He was deep in focus, rooted to the spot with his hands fixed in his Seal.

Takeda continued moving at inhuman speeds, faster than the eye could see, before leaping into the air.

One of the Shamans smiled, before arranging his hands in a Seal. A high-pressure jet of water sprayed out from his hands, moving at blinding speed.

Even with the speed of the water, weight of his armor, and midair position, Takeda twisted his body with unnatural flexibility, dodging the jet of water.

He raised Kusanagi up to the sky. A torrent of lightning split the heavens, channeling itself into the sword. Takeda’s arm became a blur as he brought the katana down in an arc. Lightning branched out from the tip, heading straight at the three shamans.

They barely managed to react in time, two of them dodging it at the last second. The one in the middle was struck head-on, electrocuted by the raging electricity.

Just from that display, the two shamans immediately knew which Treasure that was. The sword of the skies, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi.

Takeda soldiers below began cheering and shouting war chants. The gale had stopped raging through the Temple. The odds were still in their favour due to their superior numbers. If Takeda could defeat the shamans, victory was assured.

The two shamans stood on either side of Takeda. They arranged their hands, forming their respective Seals. Weapons of all sorts formed themselves out of thin air around the shaman on his right. The one on his left was surrounded by streams of water.

Takeda had seen shamans in battle before. These two seemed to be channeling Susanoo, the god of the sea, and Hachiman, the god of war. Akagi was still the only one he knew that could channel multiple.

Takeda stabbed Kusanagi into the ground. Swaths of ice rushed out from the hole in the ground. The Susanoo shaman immediately pushed back with a wave of water that met the ice head on.

Spears and swords manifested themselves above Takeda, then sped down, intending to riddle him with holes. He jumped back, smoothly evading the weapons.

The Hachiman shaman quickly rushed at him.

Guns manifested out of thin air, shooting at Takeda continuously. Bullets from all angles zipped past his body as he contorted with inhuman flexibility, rapidly dodging them.

For a moment, he thought he was invincible. A hail of weapons on his right and waves of water on his left quickly removed that delusion.

Multiple walls of ice protected him from the weapons, almost shattering due to the force in the weapons.

He held out the Yatsuka-no-Tsurugi in front of the incoming water. The torrent changed directions, hitting the other shaman square in the chest, blasting him through multiple walls.

Takeda rushed forward, taking advantage of the Susanoo shaman’s shock. In a sweep of the Yatsuka, he took off the shaman’s arm, cutting cleanly through flesh and bone.

The next slash was a horizontal one, cleanly decapitating the shaman in one fluid movement. His head rolled onto the floor as blood spurted from the two stumps. His body crumpled to the floor.

Takeda looked around briefly before heading to the other shaman. He lay on the floor, covered with a layer of gray dust.

He looked fine, but didn’t move. Couldn’t move, Takeda realised. Perhaps a spine issue. It didn’t matter to him anyway. The both of them knew he was as good as dead.

“You won’t get away with this. Ichiji…Ichiji will destroy you guys when he gets back. Just wait. Wait and see. That guy…is invincible”

“Ichiji. That boy. While I trust your judgement, I can assure you that he has been dealt with. I’ve sent someone stronger than him to take care of him,” Takeda said.

“That’s not possible. There’s no one stronger…than that freak.”

“Not even the Blood Shaman?” Takeda asked, tilting his head slightly.

All colour was drained from the shaman’s face in an instant. Takeda nodded his head.

“I thought so,” he said. He brought down the Kusanagi in one clean motion, effortlessly killing the shaman.

The blood effortlessly slid off the katana, leaving no stains or remnants behind, preserving the blade’s snow-white colour and pristine look.

Takeda looked out at the battle. Or what remained of it.

His army had won. The monks of the White Temple had been eliminated, but at great cost.

There were more corpses of soldiers on the ground than those of monks. They would truly have been fearsome soldiers. The sight of the death and carnage made him sure of one thing. He had made the right decision. If they wouldn’t fight for him, then they wouldn’t fight for anyone else.

And now it was time to get the main prize.

“Scatter! Scour every inch of this temple! Nobody rests until we find the Chikaeshi-no-tama!” Takeda commanded.

The soldiers, some resting while others grieved fallen friends, all stood up and began searching.

If he found it, Takeda would have four Sacred Treasures. Becoming The Heir Of Divinity would only be a matter of time from then on. Nothing, in this world or the next, would stop him and his ruthless ambition. 

_   _  _  _  _

In the quiet of the Main Hall inner chambers, the corpse of Master Gyatso lay on the floor.

A dark pool of blood had spread under his lifeless body and started to seep into the stones.

The candles flickered in the night air, painting shapeless shadows of the corpse upon the floor.

The shadows began to twist and writhe, distorting and elongating themselves.

A small particle of light rose from Gyatso’s body. It rose up slowly into the space of the room. Soon, other particles of light rose up.

They grew in number, and soon the room was dominated by beautiful white light. The particles began to congregate, fusing in pairs until they had become a blinding orb. The light from the orb grew, filling all the corridors and even reaching outside the Main Hall.

A gale began to blow through the Temple, even greater than the last. Bodies, both dead and alive, were thrown about as the gale winds continued to build.

The orb started ascending into the sky, forming the center around which the winds coalesced to form a raging tornado.

Takeda Shingen stood tall, a stone-cold expression on his face as he watched the tornado continue to grow. It consumed him, along with the temple, destroying it in its entirety.

The tornado continued ascending, gaining more power as it did, eventually reaching the mountaintop.

_  _  _  _  _

Akagi’s foot pressed deep into Ichiji’s back as he continued talking.

“All the Kami. They’re open to us. We can use all the powers. Not just one or two like those other monkeys calling themselves shamans,” Akagi continued.

Ichiji’s eyes widened as he realised the implications of this. His breath slowed as memories poured back into his mind. Suddenly, everything made sense.

Akagi smiled. He noticed this change in Ichiji’s behaviour.

“You get it now, right? We’re the real Heirs of Divinity. Not the sham title humans have given to the would-be winner of this useless war,” Akagi said.

But some things still didn’t make sense to Ichiji.

“How do you even know my name? Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“It’s simple. I was part of the delegation. Don’t you remember? The soldier with the mask?” Akagi replied.

Then Ichiji remembered that faithful day. When the Takeda court came, a shorter samurai was standing right next to Takeda, wearing a red oni mask.

When asked about him, Takeda had replied, “his face is badly disfigured from a previous battle.”

He remembered feeling uneasy even then. Now he understood why.

“As for the second question, I feel like you already know,” Akagi continued.

The Chikaeshi-no-tama. They knew it was here, somehow. That was what pushed Takeda to want to absorb the White Order into his army, to get close enough to eventually get the Treasure.

Even after being refused, they came here physically to be sure it was here, and to get information about the number of shamans in the temple.

It all made sense now.

“But why? I’m the only other Mugen Shaman you’ve seen. Why kill me?” Ichiji asked, trying to understand Akagi’s logic.

“It’s simple,” Akagi said, leaning closer, “You’re an insult to me, Ichiji. A reminder that the Kami put another person on this world as a possible equal to me. Me! It took everything within me not to kill you during our visit. But…everything worked out in the end.”

For a split second, Akagi’s usual playful and calm demeanor gave way to some thing much more harsh and sinister.

Ichiji fully understood now. Akagi was insane, truly and utterly insane.

“You’re crazy,” he spat.

“Aren’t we all, Ichiji?” he continued, raising his flame-covered arm.

“Any last words?”

Before Ichiji could respond, a great wind came from below them on the mountain.

Within seconds, it was a tornado, growing until it had reached the mountaintop.

In the center was a white orb, emitting blinding light.

The winds became catastrophic, destroying the stone on the mountaintop.

“Ah! One last trick, you geezer?!” Akagi laughed.

The light and winds continued to intensify, covering the entire mountaintop in blinding light and gale winds before Akagi could deliver the final blow.

Then, in an instant, they were gone.

The light. The wind.

All gone. The night was calm again, like it had never happened.

But the feeling of flesh under Akagi’s feet wasn’t there anymore.

Once his vision had recovered, he looked down. Ichiji had disappeared.

A wild grin spread on his face.

“Spirited Away. But don’t think this is over. I’ll be seeing you soon, Ichiji,” Akagi said, laughing into the night sky.