Reborn in a daimyo’s court-Naruto SI

KENSHIRO OUGI

Kenshiro Ougi led the forces as they rushed toward the forces of the lord of Shinobi. The arrows had stopped earlier after about five barrages. The arrows, on closer examination, had been smithed out of chakra metal, and hence, he could reason out that the enemy had a limited supply of them.

Still, for a samurai to be so skilled in the art of archery and use it as such was a testament to their strength. Suddenly, as they were a yard away from the enemy forces, Ougi felt the air still as the older samurai, Kato Shinohara, raised his sword. A smile appeared on his face as he reached for his blade once more and shouted.

"The old man is mine! Interfere, and I will not hesitate to kill you myself!" he warned as the air shifted as the old man brought down his blade.

'....Dismantle'

And the very ground tore up infront of him, and he pushed his own chakra into the blade as he gently breathed out.

"Ninpo: Dragon's descent," and he swung his blade at the majestic slash that was cutting down the very ground they ran on and stopped the attack in its steps, more or less saving a massive portion of their army.

Yet the parry had not been clean, and he could feel his hand shaking. The metal of his blade shook, and he stood face to face with the samurai whose blade had just left a massive trench in the ground between them.

"Rejoice, for you are only the fourth person ever to survive this attack of mine," the old man with a scar running down his face spoke up as he brought up his blade. Their armies clashed around them, and the whole area was filled with screams of men dying, killing, and fighting.

Both of them rushed towards each other, their swords meeting in a dance that sent sparks flying everywhere, as he realized that the old samurai's reputation was not for naught. His swings carried weight, and his sword moved through the air as if a blur, each swing fast enough that it would be impossible for any regular samurai to track.

Yet he was not any regular samurai.

Their blades locked with one another as they stared into one another's eye, and Ougi decided that it was enough, and he shifted his grip on the blade and pushed his chakra into it, and whispered as he breathed out slowly.

"Ninpo: Dragon's breath," and he saw the old man's eyes gleaming as the air stilled before the man suddenly jumped back, though he didn't miss the grunt the old man gave as his feet hit the ground again.

"Argh," the old samurai uttered as blood dripped down his arm, though the wound was much smaller than he had intended it to be.

Yet Ougi did not give him any time to settle down as he jumped towards him his sword arching down at the older samurai who pushed shifted to the right and swung his own blade at him from the side, yet Ougi pulled his blade back, blocking the strike with the hilt of his blade as he pushed his own chakra and swung once more.

"Ninpo: Dragon's breath," he exhaled slowly. He saw the old man's eyes tighten. He immediately jumped back and pushed his blade to the side, and the sword's clang filled the clearing.

"You are nearly as good as they make you out to be, yet that is not enough," the old man began, his words making Ougi's eyes narrow.

"What did you say," Ougi spoke in rage at the insult.

"You remind me of myself, of a samurai wandering the lands without purpose, yet you are not a samurai yet, for you serve no lord, no purpose except yourself," the old man's words were part of an older dogma. The dogma of servitude, one he never understood.

His life was about him, about his desires, his goals, and his ambition. The service or oaths to a shitty noble were nothing to him.

"Then let me prove you wrong, you old man," he snarled as he raised his blade.

"Ninpo: Dragon's calling," he shouted as his chakra roared, mimicking his emotion as the ground beneath his feet tore up, the cracks reached all over as he stared at the old.

"Do not speak to me of service when your master takes the credit for your achievements and hides away as you wield your blade," Ougi snarled as the old man stood there defiantly without an answer.

"I will kill you first, and then your so-called master, and end this whole war with my blade," he snarled as he shifted his feet and pulled up his blade.

"And that is why you shall lose. For you still fight for yourself, fight for your pride. You lack purpose, devotion, and emotion in your blade. Emotion that allows us sacks of meat to defy our basic nature and go above and beyond our natural limitations," the old man replied, his words making Ougi frown as his blade lit up with a purple hue.

The old man's chakra, unlike his, didn't roar in rage and fury. No, it was as if a sea, with its gentle waves in the full moon, as the old man raised his blade.

"You besmirch the name of my lord. Call him a liar and a cheat. Now let me prove you wrong, as I sever your blade with a technique he himself imparted upon me," came the answer of the old man, and Ougi smirked.

"My blade shall tear you and your lie apart," and with that, he inhaled as his chakra became still, the enormous pressure vanishing as his blade lit up.

"Ninpo:..."
"Nnpo:...."

They both spoke at once, as they stood face to face with their blades raised.

"...Dragon's calling!"

"...Swallow Reversal!" (Tsubame Gaeshi)

0000

AKIHITO SHIRAHOSHI

Akihito swung his blade at the two samurai and felt it cut through one's flesh as he was showered once more in crimson blood as the other samurai was sent rolling away from the force of his strike.

"ARGH!" the samurai grunted as his eyes narrowed into the red palanquin some twenty feet from him where sat the Third Prince. The young Prince was looking at him with wide eyes as the body of one of his samurai fell to the ground his head rolling off. The regular army had caught wind of the ambush and was rushing towards them, that meant he had to end this soon.

Akihito pulled up his blade as the last standing samurai put himself between himself and the Third Price Tatsuya, he was young. His sword shook as he stood face to face with him, the difference in their strength visible to him after the first strike.

"Step away," Akihito offered. The boy was young and probably sword off to a lord who was supporting the third Prince, and he had a future infront of him.

His eyes widened at the offer, yet he bit his lip and held up his blade, refusing Akihito's generosity.

"So be it. I shall make it quick," Akihito offered as he pushed his chakra into the blade once more, reaching for his feet as his blade lit up.

"Ninpo: Wind Cleaver," he shouted even as the young samurai tried to push Chaka into his own blade, but Akihito was beyond him in an instant.

CLANG!

A second later, the young samurai's head and half-cut blade fell to the ground as Akihito stood face to face with the Third Prince, who had grown pale and sweaty as Akihito inched closer to him.

"AH!" he screamed as he tried to run away, stumbling out of his palanquin, yet he stumbled and fell to the ground as Akihito cut off the head of his two retainers.

"YOU!.. Where did you come from!" he shouted as he tried to back away.

"From the ground, I waited for a day for you and your men sitting in a ditch in the ground all alone just so I could end this whole ordeal, sparing as many lives as I could," Akihito replied.

There were many ways of winning this war, yet this was the swiftest way. The war had already taken much from the people, and it was his duty as their lord and ruler to soften the blow, and this was the solution he had reached.

An ambush, one that came with great risk for the whole plan to work. Everything had to work. Many had spoken against him being the sole attacker, yet he had persisted.

This was his war. And he had already promised someone else that he would exact their revenge for them, and he was not fond of breaking promises.

So, as the Third Prince backed off, dragging his feet onto the ground, Akihito pushed his chakra into his blade once more as the shouts and screams of the approaching army got louder and louder.

"Miyuki sends her regards," he uttered as his blade arched through the air, and with a half shout, the Prince's head rolled off, yet the approaching army did not stop.

Akihito sighed as he sheathed his blade and riled up his chakra once more, his face turning towards the hundreds of men racing towards him before he suddenly let go of his chakra, the very air thick with his presence tore up as a violent gust of wind erupted from around him tearing up the very ground he stood on as his voice boomed through the clearing.

"The war is over!" he shouted as the men of the enemy forces slowed down, coming to a halt as he raised the Prince's head.

"Your Prince is dead!" he said, and then his eyes narrowed as his chakra sharpened, pulsing out of him in waves as his presence filled the whole area.

"Now kneel!"

0000

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