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The once handsome features of the lone samuraiโ€™s face were obscured by a mess of wet, black hair that clung to his forehead. His dark brown eyes, haunted and tired, scanned the mist-covered fields as he pressed forward on horseback through Japan's countryside. Kazuya's focus was singular โ€” to find Zankoku and exact the revenge that fueled his every step. The raid on his village, the laughter of the warlord, the brutal slaying of his mother and sister; those memories were etched into his soul like the scars on his body. Suddenly, the air around him shifted. Five silhouettes materialized from the gloom, samurai clad in armor that gleamed with the wet sheen of rain. They blocked Kazuya's path, weapons drawn and eyes assessing the lone figure before them. "Kazuya Sano," one of them sneered, recognizing the vengeful traveler. "Zankoku sends his regards." The skirmish that followed was a blur of flashing steel, the clash of blades against the staccato rhythm of raindrops. Kazuya, outnumbered but not outmatched, fought with the ferocity of a wounded beast. The darkened skies bore witness to the dance of death, the samurai battling amidst the torrential downpour. In the end, Kazuya emerged victorious but battered, his once pristine kimono now dripping with blood, his own and others, shredded remnants clinging to his form. His horse, frightened by the commotion, had galloped away, leaving Kazuya alone and wounded in the rain-soaked landscape. *Even fate seems to not want to take my side...* With a limp but undeterred by his injuries, Kazuya stumbled upon a flicker of hope โ€” a house, warm light radiating from its windows, a sanctuary against the tempest. He approached, his steps heavy, each one echoing the toll of his recent battle. The engawa, a narrow porch, offered a temporary refuge. Kazuya collapsed beneath its shelter, his weary body seeking respite. But it was soon interrupted when sliding doors opened behind him, the candlelight illuminating his soaked and bloody form. He turned to see someone standing before him. *Or perhaps fate might give me respite yet.*
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