The sound of boots crashing against the ground echoed throughout the land. The men grunted as they moved forward, one step at a time. Left and right. Right and left. Their movement did not stop. Not even for a second of rest.
In theory one would have to assume that these men are some form of allegiance. Some form of group or collective considering the task at hand. The men carried a large log, walking across the muddy field. It was apparent that it had rained the day prior as the wet dirt sloshed and stuck to those same boots that stomped forward. There was another clear indication that whatever these men were doing, was some form of training.
Above the camp grounds for these soldiers, was a thick wooden pole that connected to the walls of the area. It was a private and barricaded land. One that did not allow public access by any means.
As if that ever particularly mattered at this point. This land was ravaged long ago.
On top of that thick pole, was a man who balances om the small edge of the pole, looking down at the soldiers with a loom it disgust. The man had a scruffy and unkept beard. He had thin pupils in his eyes that told a story of it's own. His hair, which may have been more unkept than his beard, covered most of his upper face. He had made sure that his hair was tied, but whether or not it stayed like that was completely out of his hands.
That was the typical approach this man took to life for the most part. At least after his teen years. He had seen so much and every man is to be logical. The most logical conclusion was that he could only do so much and that most, if not all things, were completely out of his hands. Especially anything that had to do with his well being or his character. He was a carefree man. So much so that he was devoid of any emotion. At least from a practical sense.
The man let himself fall from the pole down towards the soldiers, who were so busy at work that they did not hear a single thing. Blood splattered and decorated the training grounds as the man zipped around, his movements so fast that nobody, even from an outside perspective, could tell what exactly was happening. Only that these same hard working men that were covered in sweat earlier, were now covered in their own insides. The man never held back when it came to killing. He learned that lesson long ago.
If he had to destroy something, then he would take the extra mile, and maybe the extra tip, he would rather push the boundaries of his morals to get the job done than to hesitate. There was an instance where he did hesitate before. There was an instance where his apathy saved his enemies from becoming piles of human remains, but that time was no more.
There was something seriously wrong with the world. It was cruel. It was even cold. Still, it was funny to him. The peace he desired existed in the most violent times of the world. Now that he didn't care for peace or violence and either concept was a means to an end for him, the world had suddenly become more peaceful. Some would even call that unfair.
Twenty seconds had passed and that was it for that entire camp. He stood for a few seconds before a small cracking noise popped behind him. A projectile shot towards him. He quickly turned and blocked the shot with his sword, before he was right in front of the soldier who had attempted to fend him off. The soldier didnt even get to say any final words, not even a sound. The soldier stood silently, looking the man into his eyes. The moment their eyes made contact, his head flew off with a whirl wind of blood to follow, the blood splashing all over the man's face as the remainder of the soldiers body collapsed and fell before him. He took his sheath and scraped it on the blade, cleaning off any chunks of skin or muscle. A dull blade was as useless one to him, and having his enemies stick to his favorite weapon would wear his blade down, even going as far to think that his blade would not cut properly if he was to not clean it like this after every battle. He stepped over the corpse before running his fingers down his throat. He could feel how deep all the scars that he acquired ran through his skin, all the way to his chest. He had a small amulet in his hand, as he held it. Maybe only for a second, before making a chant.
"Izanami. Your dinner is ready."
From the amulet sparked a younger woman appearing in front of him. Her long dark hair rested on her back and bottom as her white dress danced witn the wind in front of him. She smiled once her existence matisralized and she could hear the man's voice. The blood of the soldiers floated into the sky, before flying towards the girl like a magnet. A strange dust danced off the blood and the remains of the men, perhaps even some form of energy metastasized throughout the young girls body as she glowed a bright white. After a few seconds her meal was finished. The site that was once occupied by the soldiers hard at work, had become a blood bath to the man's blade, and now a ghost town that looked uninhabited and unused. Just like that with their deaths it was as if they never existed.
"You spoil me Shin. I wasn't expecting another meal until at least tomorrow. You've been feeding me everyday for three days in a row now. At this rate i'll get back to form in no time."
Shinseina was silent for the most part. He was more of a thinker than a talker. "Do not mention it. I just want things to go back to how they were."
Izanami always thought her brother's ambition, more specifically for this, was silly. As if he had some kind of obligation to fix things the way they are now. Things always are a certain way for a reason. "I'd rather you be more invested in my well being than closing the gate to Yomi. The balance is completely off now. There is no way you can stop the spirits from feeding on humanity. You are out numbered, possibly twice over."
Shinseina always took his sister's words to heart. When they were younger he could use the excuse that she was younger to try and win disputes with her but now that both were older and they were both adults it was impossible to ignore what the was saying, especially since she was right in this instance.
"I always take blame for what happened. I always will. I will do anything to fix it."
Izanami stared at him with a worried look. Partially because she knew that this wasn't even about fixing things but rather fixing the problem that he had with his guilt consuming him. "You would have never known. You would have never known." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Come. Let us continue to work towards that dream once more. That promised land of peace that we saw years ago. This is only one step towards that land. This is a means to an end."
Shinseina nodded and put his hand over his sisters, holding it for a brief moment. He sighed before giving her a weak smile. He turned around before he was stopped in an instance. This was right, considering that he turned to soldiers that had shown up at the door. It was pretty obvious that a distress signal had went out to the remaining men in the area. Shinseina had dealt with that many, many times. What was particularly striking about this situation was the fact that they had arrived in such quick fashion. Shinseina, whenever doing a job, always timed his meals for Izanami. He wasn't the type to miss like this. There was something suspicious going on.
The soldiers stood side to side in front of Shinseina and Izanami, their hands on their waste and their posture clean. This annoyed the both of them deeply. They felt as if the demeanor of the average soldier was mocking the art of battle.
A few laughs came from the crowd of soldiers, both siblings getting on guard in tjay instant. The soldiers moved out of the way letting a man nearby. Perhaps a man, was a ridiculous statement. With another glance, the man was tiny. Very small. So small it was actually quite embarrassing. However, there was something about the man that was irresistible. Undeniable. Ethereal. He stood and spoke to the two.
"Looks like we've caught ourselves a hunter! We've been looking for you boys everywhere! You must not like us or something of the sort." The soldiers laughed in Unison with him, even somewhat breaking character and composure to the man's joke.
"Do you want to know something even funnier?"
The men listened in, waiting for another joke.
"I even caught the Visceral Soul. My luck couldn't get any better." The small samurai let out another obnoxious chuckle, that same energy that Izanami absorbed was dancing around the man as he looked at the two with a huge smile on his face, the Visceral Soul completely silent and cold, not sharing a smile with their new enemy.