Do I feel betrayed by my master?

---

Hah, I hate being a ronin. Ever since my lord was assassinated by shinobi, I have been nothing more than an immigrant. Such misfortune...

Still, it could be worse. I could be a commoner! The very thought hurts...but, the point is that I'm not. Plus, I have friends now, and even the chance for a new lord. All I have to do is complete this one task and I-

Boom

I look over at the door, and see a boy dressed in red. The long hair, the ripped kimono, the sheath, even the bandages wrapped around his hands, feet, and mouth are all dyed a deep maroon. A strange smell that reminded me of iron that was familiar-

Blood.

That wasn't red dye. It was blood. And it looked like that boy had been baptized in it.

I heard a click, and saw the shine of steel off a blade, and I felt the chill a mouse does when it sees a hawk. If I do not die within the next minute, it will be an accomplishment.

Even though the bandages are covering the boys' mouth, I get the feeling he's smiling.

---

Drawing my blade while scanning the underground den that was hollowed out underneath a large warehouse, I step forward to let the two horsemen in the room. They fan to both my flanks, and draw their own swords. Mirroring us, the half dozen ronin stand and take up stances of their own.

These are warriors, not commoners. Thus, they hold to a code of honor. Which is good, cause if they all faced me at once I would be in trouble. it's good fools like these insist on facing other warriors one-on-one, even when they are masterless.

Dropping my sheath to the side, I bring my sword in front of me and accept the challenge of a short warrior who held his sword beside his temple with both hands, his right on top. His armor was a rust red color, and was the traditional lacquered bamboo. Of course, for these kinds of warriors, armor that isn't enchanted is just a decoration. His face was uncovered, and he wore only a short beard.

His eyes were a bright blue.

Leaping forward, I slash downward and aim towards his shoulder. He parries and ripostes, sending a thrust into my throat. I spin to the side and let his blade go through the space my head had previously occupied. To either side, the two horsemen had begun similar duels, while the three other ronin simply waited.

Twisting in the opposite direction, I bring my sword down at belly level to disembowel the blue eyed ronin, but he turns to the side and deflects my strike with his armor. Of course, had that been normal armor, it would have shattered. However, he had used ki to reinforce it. Likewise, he could use ki to sharpen his swords edge. Some warriors were even able to materialize their ki and use it as a weapon on it's own. Though I don't know about that, if one were to use ki to reinforce their skin, it would be hard as iron. This is why these warriors don't need armor. But, I guess they like to look cool. I have concluded that everyone has a little bit of a child in them.

He flips his swords' edge and tries to cut off my head, and I bend my knees while bending back to dodge, before jumping over his second strike. Flipping in the air, I lash out with my blade and aim towards his head. Even though he pulls his head back, I nick his helmet. As we back off to take stock of the other, he frowns at the nick in his helmet. It shows that he didn't calculate the speed of my sword correctly. The other two ronins' eyes are drawn to our fight, and they watch with interest. All I can think when I look at them is, You are next.

Having tested each other out, we move in and fight seriously. We both set our stance and exchange a flurry of strikes and thrusts, blocks and parries. As we do so, he begins to see more nicks appearing on his armor. Unable to comprehend why, he keeps fighting, but soon, he makes a mistake.

He strikes just a little too hard, and is slow in pulling his sword back. I Wrap the cloth on my hands around his sword, and pull him forward. As he stomps a foot forward to stop himself from stumbling, I have already moved behind him.

He sees nothing but his own decapitated body, and then nothing at all.

As blood spurts from the stump of his neck, I stand straight and flick the blood off my sword. One down.

The next challenger wastes no time in accepting my challenge, and moves forward slashing immediately. To either side, the horsemen are trading cuts with their opponents. I step to the side, and let the blade crash into the ground. This warriors armor is blue, and he covers his face with a mask in the shape of a demon.

His eyes are brown.

I step on the top of his blade, and drive it into the ground, then place my swords' tip on his adams' apple. Then I push.

Ki can only strengthen your skin so much.

His blood spurts out in a stream, running down the length of my blade. He gargles and spits blood that drips out the bottom of his mask, and gasps for air. I lean into his face, and place my left hand against his throat, then push him off my sword. Filth shouldn't stick to my blade.

He collapses backward and fountains blood for a couple seconds longer, before his heart stops pumping. This time, my third opponent takes a more cautious approach. Stepping forward, he holds his sword in two hands, his left on top, and points the tip at my throat. His armor is colored a shining silver, and he leaves the top half of his face uncovered. The bottom has a mouth piece decorated with fangs and tusks.

His eyes are a bright green.

Taking a half step, he swings forward in a shallow cut, which I knock to the side and riposte with a thrust. He drops the sword with his right hand and deflects my sword with his right hand, and brings his left hand in a great circle to swing his sword in a huge arc into my side. I turn my back and jump-flip over it, then kick out with my left leg towards his knee. He bends it slightly to absorb my kick into his thigh, then grabs his sword with both hands and brings it over his head. Bringing down his sword with thunderous force, I have no choice. I cannot dodge a sword moving at that speed, and if I sacrifice an arm to stop the blade, he will likely kill me.

I turn my back, and hear the slight gasp from his lips. His strike slashes down my back, leaving a deep wound from my right shoulder to my left hip. My blood spurts out and into his uncovered eyes, blinding him. Stepping backward with my right foot, I bring both my hands onto the hilt, and turn it to the left. I turn, and bring all the momentum of my body into a single strike, that sunders his left side and cleaves through his chest, only barely stopping before his heart.

He looks at me, and I hear six words from him.

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

I look deep into his eyes, and tilt my head.

"Why?" I thoughtfully ponder.

Then push my sword into his heart, and twist.

"Do I need a reason?"

He falls to the ground, rejoining his companions. To my right and left, the two horsemen are wrapping up their duels. I look at the ceiling, and close my eyes.

It was close this time. Had I been any slower, I would have died. He would have cut me clean in two.

After the two horsemen finish their fights, I congratulate them. They worry over the wound on my back, but I am not so concerned. We bandage it up, and prepare to move out.

As we get ready to leave, one of the two finds a letter in the green-eyed mans pocket. It has the seal of his lord on it, and within it is a large sum of money and the instructions to kill the two men who come to this location. In return, they will be made official retainers of the lord and become samurai once more.

I offer them my condolences, but secretly, I'm excited.

The chance to exterminate an entire castle doesn't come up every day. I tell them that I will help them acquire their vengeance, and they say it is impossible to cut their way to the lord. I lay my hands on their shoulders, and say "I swear on the sword of my dead master, I will kill this man who has wronged you."

They are happy. Such fools. I'm not doing it for them, but rather they gave me an excuse. Though, they are decent people.

It would be a shame if they died.

---

Of course I do. After all, children like me are not the most logical thinkers.