For a heartbeat, they were locked. Sakai’s strength against Jin’s fluid grace. Sakai pushed, his teeth bared in a snarl of duty. Jin yielded, spinning away like water around a stone.
Spark met spark. The ring of the collision vibrated through their boots. ENFRENTAMIENTO DE SAMURAI
Opposite him was the Ronin, Jin. He wore no armor, only a tattered indigo kimono that snapped in the rising wind. His straw hat shadowed his eyes, leaving only a scarred jaw visible. His grip was loose, his breathing a rhythmic whisper that mimicked the swaying of the bamboo at the forest’s edge. For a heartbeat, they were locked
The mist clung to the tall grass of the Sekigahara plains, smelling of damp earth and impending iron. Two men stood twenty paces apart, motionless as weathered statues. Jin yielded, spinning away like water around a stone
To the east stood Lord Sakai, his armor a deep crimson laced with gold. He was a man of the old world—heavy, deliberate, and bound by the weight of his ancestors. His hand rested on the hilt of a blade forged in the fires of Bizen, a soul of folded steel that had tasted blood for three generations.
Sakai moved first—a thunderbolt in plate. He drew in a sweeping arc, a strike intended to end the duel before it began. Metal shrieked. Jin didn't retreat; he stepped into the orbit of the blade, his own steel flashing out like a sliver of moonlight.
The world narrowed. The distant thunder of the main battle became a hum. The cry of a lone hawk was the only signal.