Chapter 1: Awakening

Rain trickled through the thick forest canopy, blue mist shrouded the floors of the jungle, and the sound of a frantic pair of footsteps rang throughout the oddly silent Jungle.

"H-Help!" The man coughed out, as he desperately willed his strained legs to carry him faster. 

"P-please! Somebody?!"

He had been chased by a strange monster for several hours now, and he didn't know what was even behind him, nor did he want to know.

It was supposed to be an easy escort mission. Simply protect the western noble back to his domain. But who would've known that fool chose the shortcut straight through the Abyssal passage instead of a nice and safe month long voyage through the seas?!

No amount of money would've convinced him to take the mission if he had known. 

But there were no pills for regrets.

"A-AH!" He felt the swiping of claws right behind, the unmistakable sound of a tree being felled drove him further into a panic.

Suddenly, he burst into a clearing. In it, he saw the caravan he was supposed to escort. The bodies of his comrades, the pack animals, along with that suicidal noble lay scattered near the carriage.

The monster had ran him in a circle. 

In a small part of his brain, he noticed how the bodies had their blood seemingly drained from their body.

*Grrowlll...*

You are reading story Masamune, The Blood Blade at novel35.com

He ran and stopped in front of the broken carriage. Now he knew he was cornered.

Glowing red eyes appeared from all around him in the low blue mist and dark jungle shrubbery. The low growling of the apex predators sent shivers down his spine.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glint of something shiny. It was the sword that the nobleman bought. It was partially unwrapped, the silvery white sheath hid an edge that even he, a third-rate mercenary, could sense was sharp beyond comparison.

He hesitated. The blade, even through the sheath, seemed too thin, too frail, and he felt like that it would break if he swung it the wrong way.

But it was life and death now, and he had lost his only weapon hours ago. This will have to do.

Suddenly, his instincts screamed. The thing that was chasing him from before leapt at him.

His mind screamed one simple command at him. DODGE!

And so he did, using the last bits of strength to propel himself sideways, towards the blade. The monster's claws swiped at where he once was, narrowly missing his legs.

He tumbled onto the rain-soaked dirt, panting, but safe from harm. Now with sword in hand, he unwrapped the partially wet silk cloth that protected the sheath, revealing a majestic white scabbard etched with scenes of the moon, the land, and the wind, alongside several eastern runes he couldn't understand.

The monster from before circled him, more emerging from the blue fog and the shrubbery around the clearing.

Now or never. He swallowed, and tried to unsheathe the blade.