Before the Battle

Reckoning 14/20

--Maya--

We were too late.

Even though we managed to locate Shira's signal, get Taira's officers to stop bickering and work together, find our way through the impenetrable forest with the help of Kano and his men, and get the soldiers to the right place, we were still too late.

"General Imara has been shot," our scouts reported. "We do not know his condition, he may be dead. He is in a building north of here, with fighting going on around it. The situation there is very unclear."

Colonel Daichi, who was coordinating the advance of our troops, looked at me with evident concern. 

My stomach tightened at the news. Was Taira dead? No. I refused to believe it.  

A few minutes later we witnessed the scene with our own eyes.

Fighting around the old stone structure had been going on for some time. Confusion reigned everywhere, the situation was truly chaotic, and the rain, although falling lightly, did not help matters.

"We have to help them, quickly," I urged Daichi.

"Help who?" He grinned ironically. "Those mercenaries? Because they're the only ones here who need help."

I gave him an uncertain look, then my eyes wandered back to the battle before me. I tried to orientate myself in the confusion all around, and this time I recognised the dark-clad figure with the katana in the midst of the fiercest fighting.

Daichi was right.

The mercenaries were nothing against Shira. Just dust under his feet. He really didn't need our help to deal with them.

It looked as if the bandits were outnumbered when the fighting began. But judging by the number of bodies, the severed limbs and the blood-soaked ground, they didn't stand a chance against the black-haired assassin.

These were the same raiders who had destroyed Kano's village and many other settlements, and they certainly deserved no mercy. And Shira showed them none.

He towered over them, tall, terrifying as death itself, and pronounced final judgement on those who would challenge him. And those who dared became fewer and fewer.

Whether with his katana or a precise targeted bullet, he mercilessly annihilated one by one.

He hungered for revenge and blood, but most of all he wanted to dull the immense pain inside him. And unfortunately for everyone around him, he chose to do it through the one thing he did best.

Killing.

I'd never seen Shira in such a state.

I'd seen him fight with icy focus and deadly intent, I'd seen him fight with anger and hatred, but never like this.

He was like a wild beast. A wounded beast that roared in pain and clawed at the throat of anyone foolish enough to approach it.

A beast that no one could control, that no longer knew friend from foe.

It was Taira who could bring out the best in him, calm him down, speak to his conscience.

Taira, in whose name Shira saw peace and serenity.

Taira who was now lying motionless in a pool of his own blood.

And if he was truly dead, many others would follow, the black-haired assassin would see to that.

Now the mercenaries began to retreat, none of them daring to face Shira in his murderous frenzy.

"Hold back those who are running," I ordered Sorner and Kioshi, who had appeared beside us, watching the bloody carnage with the Colonel and me.