Inheritance

New Enemies, New Missions

An Unknown Location

Darkness.

Total and complete darkness. Not a single ounce murky light that he knew filled the cavernous underground room that he was in penetrated his eyes. Yet he could sense them. Surrounding him, in a circle. He could sense their fear.

It was so dense, and thick; it clogged the atmosphere around him, the sheer terror, the tension. He knew two were shaking, he did not know how many men surrounded him, but he knew that two shook with dread at the task they were being asked to perform, though the dread at the cost of refusing their master's call was far, far greater. He smiled softly, breathing in the air, the stench of terror that surrounded him; and he couldn't help but lick his cracked, dry lips in anticipation, couldn't stop his smile from growing.

Any moment now. Any second, the order could come.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the blade at his hip. Though he could not see it, he knew instinctively how to find it wit his hands. His swordsmanship might not be the best - it most likely wasn't even his own best skill; but he couldn't help but crave to use it. Smooth, graceful, efficient. Cold steel was something he felt an affinity for that he could not quite explain.

Those around him had seen his movement, and they readied their own weapons. He knew a few would have swords, too, though they could never match the beauty of his own. Some would have clubs, maces, kunai; various other weapons and tools that all men used to spill the blood of their kin.

Inferior. All of them.

He barely heard the words that he had been waiting for, excitement and adrenaline overwhelming his senses as those surrounding him haphazardly charged.

He almost sighed. They were amateurs. He had hoped for more, he had hoped his master would have allowed him to face more.

They were close enough now for him to sense them. Twenty one men of various ages. The youngest seemed to be around his age, and the oldest was no older than thirty. Briefly, he wondered how they had come to be in such a wretched place; pawns, slaves to his master's wishes. In that respect, he was no better than them, a slave to the will of the man that had brought him here. Yet, he was so much more.

The first two had reached him, and they attacked simultaneously. He stepped forward in response, bringing them into range of his technique.

And then they were gone. Their chakra and life force no longer present. He knew that no man in the room had seen him bring his sword to bare, save his master. The other nineteen men in the room had simply seen him move in between the two men, and then, they had seen them fall, lifeless, their blood already pooling on the stone floor of the arena in which they stood.

He pushed forward, yet never attacked first; always on the front foot, but always allowing his opponent to show his hand. An attack from the front, a man with a mace. He sidestepped, and like a flash, struck out vertically, cutting from his navel to the throat. He didn't need to hear the retch of another to know the man had been eviscerated by his blade.

He could feel his master's gaze on his back as he continued to cut through the men before him, one after another fell, and bit by bit, his master's pleasure made itself more and more felt. The extraordinary chakra the man could bring to bare focused on him, and he revelled in it. Upping his speed, he made the initial strike for the first time, stepping inside another person's guard. This was a shinobi, a woman, though still likely a Genin. And he struck horizontally, beheading her in a single, clean motion. His master's chakra spiked in pleasure.

The last man standing. The fear rolled off of him in ways, though his trembling was the thing that gave him away. His weapon abandoned, the coward had decided to try and hide himself behind one of the stone support pillars of the arena. Unacceptable. He stopped before the pillar, and channelled his own chakra through his weapon for the first time in the battle, and struck out horizontally again, slicing through the solid stone like it was nothing more than paper.