## Story 1 ![31-1.png](/uploads/31_1_4ad3d6c34b.png) Not long after the new year's dawning, an event is held in the castle of a great lord.
And as ever, the ministers gathered there are wrought with worry.
For you see, this event is an annual one held following the arrival of a new year.
One where the past year's greatest warrior is honored,
and he who achieved the least is put to the sword before the group.
This is why the ministers and generals attend the event with the greatest of trepidation.
But this year...is different.
First, there is the general of the east,
whose strategic prowess brought great victory over an enemy nation.
Then there is the general of the west,
whose forces were routed despite boasting far superior numbers.
The results speak for themselves.
"There can be no room for the vanquished in this land."
As the ministers engage in heated debate, the two generals remain silent.
Then the castle lord makes his entrance,
and begins to speak of the rewards and punishments to be handed out this day.
The ministers seem almost uninterested; after all, the matter does not concern them.
But then, the lord says something surprising:
"I have prepared something very special for this year's gathering."
As the ministers begin to whisper wild suspicions, a woman enters the hall through a sliding door.
Elegant in appearance and garbed in gorgeous finery, she stands by the lord's side.
In her hand, she holds a single sword.
Its scabbard is an exquisite thing, inlaid with the shells of pearls.
The sight of it causes the ministers to furrow their brows in even greater concern.
None among their number know her true face.
But even the most elderly of the ministers are taken by her beauty,
their eyes hungrily savoring every inch of her form.
Perhaps used to such vulgar gazes, the woman is utterly unfazed.
Her expression remains unchanged as she draws her sword from its sheath.
The light on the blade is dazzling malignance.
The power and immediacy of the weapon takes the ministers' breath away.
What will she do? they wonder.
At first, they think she is simply displaying the blade.
But then she spreads her hands out and holds it perfectly straight in the air.
Her movements are beautiful. Picturesque. The ministers watch, enraptured.
They have no idea what will happen—or what she is about to show them. ## Story 2 ![31-2.png](/uploads/31_2_3f2845cce1.png) From their seats, the ministers gaze up at the woman.
The lord beside her speaks freely and easily, a fan with a splendid design in his hand.
"May the savage spirit in this blade cut down the unworthy this year."
But the lord's words do not reach the ministers' ears.
For the woman's slightest movements now command their rapt attention.
Slowly, elegantly, she begins to dance.
Her blade flutters as she weaves to and fro around the men in the room.
Each time she passes, the fragrant aroma of aloeswood engages their senses.
Despite how firmly her feet land on the tatami, the straw makes not a sound.
She is graceful. Flawless. Perfection.
Her sword flickers as it glides through the air.
There are no words to describe such a sight; none present have ever seen its like.
As she approaches the general from the east—the man who so recently
achieved great victory—her movements become even more exquisite.
Graceful hands. An arresting stare.
The slight pink of a tongue that scarcely emerges from between crimson lips.
The eastern general grins widely, his spirits high.
The ministers understand this to be a reward meant singularly for him.
All present are jealous of how close the general is
permitted to come to the woman's absolute beauty.
And that is why no one notices.
Not at first.
Not until the moment blood sprays across the room...
And the general's head sails elegantly through the air. ## Story 3 ![31-3.png](/uploads/31_3_e5ecf0633f.png) As blood flows onto the tatami, the general's body crumples into a heap.
The gore-soaked woman stares down at it.
Disquiet ripples through the ministers.
But the lord silences them with a look.
He unfurls a piece of paper and holds it aloft.
It is written in the general's own hand.
It proves he was plotting treason.
The letter details vital state secrets he meant to
divulge to the lord of the neighboring province.
Behind the shocked ministers, a presence stirs.
The western general, who had been careful to remain
unnoticed until this moment, now strides boldly forward.
It was he who found the letter and informed the lord of the plot.
"There is no room for traitors in this land," proclaims the lord.
His powerful voice echoes across the room.
When he is finished, he pardons the western general for his recent
losses in battle and announces he will be given the greatest of rewards.
But one minister listens with a pale and strained face.
Despite his best efforts, a smile begins to curl across his lips.
Finally, he can stand no more, and a wild bark of laughter flies from him.
It quickly spreads to his fellows. Within moments, the room is filled with wild, roaring laughter.
Memory has finally returned to the ministers.
Their lord had long been rumored to own a terrifying beast that has never been defeated in battle.
No one ever paid the rumor much mind, but the sight before them can permit no more disbelief.
Between fits of laughter, the ministers spout curses at the eastern
general for daring to engage in so foolish a betrayal.
And to a man, they sing the woman's praises.
Though she slayed the general in the most violent of ways, the act was just. Virtuous.
Yet her expression does not change in the face of their praise.
She simply responds with a quiet, formal bow.
And a moment later, her solemn presence vanishes behind a nearby partition. ## Story 4 ![31-4.png](/uploads/31_4_d6d69075ba.png) Her task complete, the woman recalls her orders:
"Find the traitor and kill him in the presence of my ministers."
That was it.
That was all.
She had no leads. Nowhere to begin.
She did not even know if the lord had proof of a traitor in his midst at all.
The more the woman looked into it, the more she came to doubt the claim.
But then, she finally grasped the truth of the matter:
Her lord was creating the situation.
One where she would be forced to kill a traitor.
That was the purpose of the assignment. No more and no less.
Knowing this, she developed a scenario and approached her lord.
He grinned as she whispered her accusation into his ear.
She had accurately read between the lines.
The woman had understood perfectly, and continued preparations to match her scenario.
She would show the ministers how clever and cruel their lord
could be without letting any actual betrayal come to pass.
And having now beheaded the eastern general, she embarks upon the final stage of her plan.
She will put an end to the man who has no stomach for battle.
The man who would never scheme against his
lord because he lacked the mettle to even consider it.
That is the western general—a man who thinks far too highly of himself.
It is not a difficult job.
And yet, the woman hesitates.
She thinks of her lord and his keen, sharp mind.
What if a day comes when he feels she has begun to shine too brightly?
Will she be able to accept his decision?
Will she stand by as he seizes the spotlight back by whatever violent ends he sees fit?
Or will she resist?
She ponders this.
She follows orders. She ends lives. She does not choose when or who or why.
The mission alone drives her actions.
This is what makes her an assassin without peer.
So long as she follows this path,
it is unlikely she will ever have to set her blade against her lord.
But...
What if she has no choice but to cut him down to save her own life?
It would mark the first time she had ever killed to ensure her own survival.
How would I do it if the moment ever came to pass?, she wonders.
The room is dark.
The inky black reminds her of her own heart,
and she imagines the shining arc of a blade piercing it.
How interesting.
A vague smile crosses her face like flickering candlelight, vanishing as quickly as it arrived.
When it is gone, she slips her katana into its sheath and quietly leaves the room.

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