The Edge of Katana and the Flying Kick with an Eye of the Tiger

Chapter 6

A village nestled ‘mongst the scenic landscapes of eastern China, renowned for its ancient architecture, peaceful waterways, and picturesque environs.

1990.

The erstwhile peaceful hamlet of Ley Lay in desolation, its cobblestone lanes now desolate and scatter with broken fragments of rock.

Smoke but wafted from the vestiges of thatched-roof dwellings, their scorched skeletons standing as somber proof to the calamity that had passed through in the dark hours.

The atmosphere itself is having a pain with the sharp odor of wood that has been charred and sense of fear.

He did wail in mourning, clutching one another for support amid the tumult.

He wandered aimlessly, their tear-streaked faces reflecting confusion and terror.

Master Tao, his weathered face etched with lines of both wisdom and profound sorrow, sat surrounded by the broken fragments of rock of what had once been the village.

He had dedicated his life to the harmony of nature and the well-being of his village.

Yet now, as he surveyed the destruction wrought upon the village he swore to protect, a deep sense of failure weighed heavily upon him.

He had invoked traditional ceremony and prayers, offered incense to the spirits, and counseled the villagers on the path of balance and peace.

Despite his efforts, the confusion of war had swept through their peaceful enclave, leaving damaged in its wake.

Master Tao’s heart ached with the agony of not being able to shield this people from harm, his once firm resolve shaken by the harsh reality of their shattered existence.

Sensei Eikou, accompanied by his young student Yin, witnessed the scene with sorrowful eyes.

As Yin’s Kung Fu instructor, Sensei Eikou instinctively shielded Yin with his hand, seeking to protect the boy from the grim reality unfolding before them.

Yin, with eyes wide and trembling, gripped the hem of Sensei Eikou’s robe, his youthful innocence set starkly against the devastation of the ravaged village.

He knelt beside the lifeless body of his father—separate from the head.

He clutched his cold hand, tears streaming. “Pa.” he whispered brokenly, unable to comprehend the brutality that had ripped apart his peaceful existence.

Sensei Eikou knelt surrounded by the wreckage, clasping his hands in prayer.

With eyes closed, he has a smile while whispering words of supplication for comfort and strength in the face of the village’s devastation.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.”

Psalm 23:1–4

While praying you’ll hear Yin’s hoarse cry.

Sensei Eikou’s eyes, cold and calculating, glinted with a perverse satisfaction as he surveyed the scene of damaged he had orchestrated.

The tear, glistening like liquid silver, seemed out of place behind his stiff expression.