Chapter XI: Souls of Goodness and Kindness

Shizukana Gake, Heian Kingdom, The Great Plateau

Month of the Garuda 30, 172 ,328 DE

As Takamura reaches for the hilt of the sword sticking up over his shoulder, Vorn lunges out of his chair. His shoulder slams into Takamura's gut, and wrapping his arms around the bigger man, Vorn lifts him off his feet and keeps moving toward the bar. Takamura repeatedly hammers his fists into Vorn's back to no effect., and while the rest of the tavern's patrons look on in dumbfounded shock, Vorn slams Takamura into the bar.

The bar splinters under the impact of Takamura's back, and Vorn releases his hold on the bigger man, letting him fall to the floor. Without getting up, the Takamura, kicks Vorn, but Vorn clamps his legs together, stopping the kick before it reaches his balls.

"Bastards! I'm gonna kill you!" The venom in Takamura's voice does not match the cold expression on his face. From his expression, he might as well be talking about the weather.

"You can try." Vorn's bland tone of voice is at odds with the tension in his body, and he springs backward.

Unfortunately, none of the other patrons show any signs of interfering with the fight between the two big men. The lack of idiots bores me. "Hey, you wanna finish him off, so we can go somewhere else? The rest of these losers have no balls."

"Bastard!"

"Just you wait!"

"Takamura will get to you next!

"You're dead, Bastard!"

My comment draws a lot of hostile attention, but none of them show any signs of acting on their hostility. Bastard is the most common and one of the most disparaging ways to insult someone east of the Kami Kaze Mountains. They take parentage and the lack of known parentage very seriously. They seem to be just trying to provoke me, but if they do not have the balls to attack me, none of them are worth my time.

"Cowards."

Despite the disdain and disgust dripping from my words, no one does anything. How can cowardly bitches like these earn money as caravan guards? Do they run away and let the merchants get killed? That kind of thing happens often enough outside the walls of the cities. Is that why they all seem so down and out? As long as they get the upfront portion of their money, they can eat for awhile. If they get a bad reputation in one city, they can drift to another city for a repeat performance.

Vorn waits for Takamura to get back to his feet. "Go ahead and draw your sword if you think you need it."

Hearing the arrogance and disdain in Vorn's voice, Takamura seems to hesitate as he reaches toward the hilt sticking over his shoulder. Taking advantage of Takamura's momentary distraction, Vorn springs forward, throwing a barrage of rapid, heavy punches. Caught flat-footed, for a moment, Takamura only defends and takes a few hard hits.

With his face turning red, Takamura explodes into an offensive. Ignoring the punches he takes, he steps forward with a heavy reverse punch that knocks Vorn back a step. Another follows it, and even though Vorn blocks the punch, he gets knocked back another step. Takamura has a noticeable advantage in strength, but for every punch he lands, he takes two in return.

As the fight moves away from the bar, the crowd parts, but two men in dull black canvas clothes lunge toward Vorn with daggers in hand.

"Behind you!" As I shout, I spring toward the two men. The dagger wielding men are too far away for me to reach them in time, but as Vorn turns to look, one of Takamura's punches sends Vorn flying. One of the daggers completely misses, and the other only tears a ragged gash into his shoulder.

Vorn slams into more of the tavern patrons, sending them flying, as well, but with a few steps backward, he regains his balance and stares at the dagger-wielders. "Barkeep, there's assassins in your tavern!"

"Don't butt into my fights!" With rage turning his face into an ugly mask, Takamura turns on the dagger-wielders. He throws a huge roundhouse kick at the closest one, but as the man stops it cold, Takamura's eyes widen in surprise.

The dagger wielding assassin stabs his dagger into Takamura's thigh and twists it, before pulling it back out. A fountain of deep red arterial blood sprays from the wound. Even at the Qi Condensation realm Takamura will not live more than two minutes or so with a wound like that.

Several of the Martial Artists that Vorn slammed into attack him with fists and feet, while a couple others draw weapons. Taking advantage of the situation, the second assassin moves to attack Vorn from behind, but I clamp my hand around his wrist, which is holding the dagger.

The assassin's head snaps around, and he stares at me in wide-eyed surprise. "Where did you come from, bastard!"

"You aren't too observant for a backstabbing piece of shit." With a mocking grin, I kick the assassin's feet out from under him while holding onto his arm. From my left, a burly Martial Artists aims for the side of my neck with a hammer fist, and to avoid the attack, I step around the fallen assassin without letting go of his wrist.

Crunch!

"Aaaarrrgh!"

As his elbow separates, the assassin screams and flails, but a kick to the face from the burly Martial Artist puts an end to his struggles. My own toe kick digs into the solar plexus of the burly Martial Artist, and he doubles over. As I retract my leg, the Martial Artist falls on top of the unconscious assassin.

As I spin around, the other assassin has already opened up Takamura's throat with his dagger, and the big man collapses into the spreading pool of his own blood. The assassin looks over his shoulder, and the dozen-odd Martial Artists behind him shrink back with mixes of fear and hostility radiating from their eyes.

Even with the miasma of stale beer and urine in the tavern, the stench of fear and anger still fills the air.

With each one of his heavy punches, Vorn drops one of his attackers, but the Martial Artists keep crowding around, trying to get their hands on him.

Seeing the first assassin down, the second assassin's stare shifts from his comrade to my face, and his eyes are opened even wider than the first when I grabbed his wrist. The second assassin brandishes his dagger at me.

"Black Blades !" The volume of the second assassin's shout drowns out all the noise of Vorn's fight with the Martial Artists.

For a moment, everyone looks at the second assassin, but with a grin, Vorn sends a distracted Martial Artist flying, restarting the melee.

Drawing my Bowie knives, I flip my left-hand knife to a reverse grip and grin at the second assassin. "You don't call that toothpick a knife, do you?"

The assassin sneers, but I can smell his nervousness. "It's not how big it is. It's how you use it, punk."

"Do tell? I heard that your dick is limp with women, so I don't expect much." Before I complete my sentence, I step in and slash at the assassin with my left-hand knife. As the assassin deflects my slash, the force of my strike pushes him back. I stab his forearm with my right-hand knife, but he tries to drive his fingers into my eyes. I sway backward and slash his other forearm with my left-hand knife.

This assassin is around the peak of Qi Condensation, just like the downed Takamura. He is another fast one, but I still have a tiny edge in speed.

Knife fights are nasty. The short blades of knives make it hard to get a quick kill. If you do not have an opportunity for a sure kill, it is better to at least start bleeding your enemy. No matter what, once he looses enough blood, he will get sloppy. You just have to make sure he does not bleed you too much in the process.

Crack! Clatter!

The tavern door splits into two halves, and following the two halves flying across the room in front of the bar, another six men in the same black canvas outfits as the assassins rush into the tavern. They all have daggers in their hands, some have one and others two.

"Yo, Vorn! We've got more assassins, and all of them are in the upper half of Qi Condensation."

"Keep them busy while I finish taking out the trash!" Vorn laughs nastily.

The assassin I am fighting glances over his shoulder, and with a quick slash from my left-hand knife, I open up the veins in his neck. As a fountain of his blood sprays out like a fan, the assassin looks back at me. With confusion and fear filling his eyes, he collapses to his knees and tries to stem the flow of his blood with his hands. How can someone be so stupid as to look away in the middle of a knife fight?

I learned how to fight from Old Man Jones. If I stupidly looked away in the middle of a fight without being aware of his moves, that shitty old man would at the very least leave me bad bruises and pulled muscles as a reminder. If he was in a bad mood, I would wind up with torn muscles and broken bones. I learned very quickly to always be aware of my enemies actions if I dared to look away.

Whipping my arm, I sling a fan of blood drops at the new pack of assassins. "Who's next on the butcher's block?"

One of the assassins, who is at the rear of the pack, looks at the assassin on his knees, who is rapidly bleeding out, then coldly stares at me. "If you had not attacked one of my men, you could have walked out of here alive. But now, you have to die with the northerner."

"Kill him!" The head assassin points at me with his dagger.

Not giving the assassins a chance to get the jump on me, I move as soon as they spring forward and dash toward the assassin that is the farthest into the tavern. Armed with two daggers, that assassin holds one in a regular grip and one in a reverse grip, like me. Unlike my Bowie knives with their long, curved, single-edged blades, the daggers of the assassins have double-edged triangular blades, no more than twenty-five centimeters long, which are designed as stabbing weapons.

As I close on the assassin from his left side, he turns and stabs toward my stomach, but I deflect his attack. My return slash at the assassin's forearm forces him to back up. With that assassin between myself and the rest of the assassins, I have a few seconds to focus on him. My rapid series of stabs and slashes keeps him on the defensive and leaves a half-dozen bleeding cuts on his forearms.

The warmth from Trinity circulates through my Body. Even if I have no control over it, just by circulating, the Trinity still enhances my strength and speed.

With two more assassins closing from my left side, I jump over the bar. With the bar as an obstacle between us, all the assassins stare at me. If they try to attack me from the other side of the bar, I can easily avoid or defend against them, and if they jump on or over the bar, they will leave themselves open to my attacks.

After a few seconds of being stared at by the assassins, I take both my knives in one hand and start throwing bottles of alcohol at the assassins. They catch and deflect some, but with the force I am throwing them, others shatter on contact.

"Yo! Vorn! You're taking your time on the trash. I'm using booze to keep these clowns busy!"

While throwing a Cultivator into a couple Martial Artists, Vorn quickly glances at the assassins. "Sinner! Heretic! Alcohol Abuser! Go Die!"

Seeing only two more of the trash remain on their feet, I stuff a rag through the handle of a ceramic mug and light it from a gas lamp on the wall behind the bar. Staring at the assassins, I display a mocking grin. "You asses might not want to move and startle me. It would be bad for you if I threw this on you."

"No! Don't! My tavern!" From where he is hiding behind the bar, the barkeep stares at me with a horrified expression.

"Idiot! Do you want to burn the building down with all of us!" The head assassin glares at me.

As the other five assassins look at the alcohol dripping from their canvas clothes and the huge puddle beneath their feet, fear fills their eyes. Few things scare most people more than the thought of being burned alive, and these assassins are no exception.

"I don't care about the building. I'll get out just fine. I'm just thinking about how much fun torching the six of you would be." I laugh.

Vorn puts down the last of the trash, and after looking around, he kicks a few that show signs of stirring in the head.

Dusting off his hands, Vorn stares coldly at the assassins. "Who hired you to kill me?"

With a frown on his face, the head assassin turns toward Vorn. "Do you really think I am going to tell you something like that?"

Vorn smiles. "I figured you would say something like that. If you're not cooperative, my friend with the burning rag is the type that would probably torch you, as he calls it. Did you know he is Raymon the Beast?"

The lead assassin's head snaps around to stare at me.

I grin. "Seems like you've heard some bad things about me. Whatever you heard, it's most likely true, and if I torch you, no one is going to say shit about it. Well, Old Man Jones will probably bitch about it, but he always has something to bitch about. You gonna talk or roast? I'm good with either one."

"No. Please. My tavern." The barkeep stares at me with a terrified expression.

I glance at the barkeep. "Pipe the fuck down. You're annoying."

Vorn shrugs. "Forget it. Torch them."

"Wait!" The lead assassin holds out his hand to me.

"Talk?"

The assassin glares at me. "It was another gaijin. He didn't give a name, and I didn't ask. A tall man with long, straight black hair. He looked like someone who has been sick a long time."

"Cross." Vorn almost spits out the name.

"Did you get what you need?"

Vorn nods.

I grin at the assassins. "Black Blades? That what you call yourselves? I wonder what'll happen when I spread around how I saw and heard you turn belly-up and rat out your employer?"

The lead assassin glares at me. "Bastard!"

"Get the fuck out of Shizukana Gake. If I ever see any of your faces, I'll assume your hunting me and kill you."

"You're not going anywhere, Tachibana! Throw down you weapons! Now!" The hard voice comes from the broken doorway to the tavern.

I grin. "You took too long ratting out your employer. They showed up a couple minutes ago."

Seeing a squad of the City Guard coming through the door, Vorn laughs.

A second squad and a third squad of the City Guard follow the first squad and a middle-aged City Guard Captain into the tavern.

With no way to escape, the Black Blades drop their weapons.

"On your knees! Hands behind your heads! Shackle them. If they resist, kill them!" The Captain glares at the assassins.

"Yes, Sir." The three squad leaders salute the Captain.

"And someone see if that jackass Takamura is still alive."

"Yes, Sir."

Once the assassins kneel down, the watchmen close in on them. The watchmen are none too gentle about securing the assassins, brutally punching and kicking them.

Old Man Jones walks into the tavern, with another man, who is just as big as him, following behind. The other man has on form-fitting chainmail, that looks like the same design as what worn by Vorn and Haldor were wearing in the Demonic Wildlands.

After looking around the tavern, Old Man Jones frowns at me. "Brat, are you adding arson to you bad habits?"

I grin. "Not particularly, but I've taken a fancy to assassin torching. You spoiled my fun."

The man in the chainmail stares at Vorn with a solemn expression. "Your Highness, are you trying to create another diplomatic incident?"

From Vorn's innocent expression, someone, who had never met him, would think that butter would not melt in his mouth. "Ambassador Ragnar, when have I ever created a diplomatic incident?"

"Do you want me to show you the list I sent to your father?"

Vorn's expression shifts to astonishment. The bastard must practice those expressions in the mirror. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ambassador."

Slightly narrowing his eyes, Old Man Jones stares at me. "Looks like you finally found someone who's as big a troublemaker as you are. You come here looking to get in a fight?"

Vorn looks at Old Man Jones with an aggrieved expression. "We didn't start anything."

"He's right, Old Man. We didn't start shit.

Vorn nods his head. "That's right. We were minding our business when that idiot Takamura started trouble. Everything went downhill from there."

"When those retarded assassins jumped in, I couldn't just watch them kill Vorn before I kicked his ass."

Vorn nods his emphatically. "He's speaking the…wait a minute. Who's gonna kick whose ass?"

"I'm gonna kick yours." I give Vorn a well-practiced smirk.

"In your dreams."

"You still drunk?"

Vorn and I glare at one another.

"So you trashed the place. You're giving me a headache, Obnoxious Brat." Old Man Jones shakes his head.

I switch my glare to Old Man Jones. "They started it. We finished it."

Vorn laughs. "That's right. We finished it. A man has to finish his fights. And we left most of them alive."

I nod. "That's right. We were being good."

"And kind." Vorn interjects.

I flash Old Man Jones a grin. "That's true. I only deliberately killed the assassin. We were being kind. Good and kind."

"We're Souls of Goodness and Kindness." Vorn's smug expression looks like a cat that caught a canary.

I really hate cats. I need to smack him around later, but for the moment, he serves a purpose. "That's right. We're Souls of Goodness and Kindness."

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