The Last Samurai [Solo]

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The letter hadn't gone unnoticed by Lizbeth. Her breath leaving a small trail of fog as it rose, the cold air piercing her revealing fighting clothing, consisting of a sleeveless Gi, which bore her favorite colors branded.



The bamboo was covered in a thick sheet of snow, and upon her arrival, she immediately saw what she was informed of. A set of armor setting upon a stump of wood, made of bamboo and metal, ringed with chainmail, and seemingly useless compared to the modern day armors. These armors were relics of the past, and the weapon included was one she had only seen in books explaining the history of Earth's cities, states, and countries, prior to the king of all earth. She placed the armor on, over her Gi, and when sliding on the Oni helmet, she felt a small feeling of claustrophobia, mixed with excitement. This would be a duel of strength and skill, her senses unable to find anyone nearby in either smell, hearing, or Ki sense, finding the every day bird or other animal, but no human beings, or any humanoid aliens. Liz stood firm, her back positioned to have her chest pressed outwards against her chainmail, and her dampened forward plates. She was waiting for a moment, before drawing the blade that was sheathed inside the casing, a beautifully embroidered sheath, bearing the markings of the family whom had built such a magnificent weapon, which caused her to wonder what happened to the original owner of such an amazing weapon, right as her ear twitched.

West, no, North-West... Yes. A soft whiz blew by in seconds as she quickly bolted to her side, pulling up her blade and watching the actions unfold. The origin of the noise was an arrow, primitive and old, shattering upon impact with the Katana. The broad headed arrow was glass, from head to shaft, showing how it was meant to kill slowly, damage the victim beyond repair while they ran or moved in a craze of pain. Lizbeth looked around, not feeling any powers, or sudden moments of strength, until she finally felt a small speck of powerful power. A quick feeling of sudden dismay, a power far beyond something she had seen so far, minus a few encounters with absurdly strong people, before the man appeared before her. He was tall, at least a good ten or eleven feet tall with his armor on, a massive bulk of multitudes of armor, his power radiating and his Ki flowing within a four feet radius of his body. It was a dark pink, nearly red, showing his diversion, and he wore the armor of the Samurai of the past. His stance was one of a professional soldier, his body upright and firm, his hand on one hip, and the other gripping the pommel of his extremely large sword. His sword radiated a blue color, as if there was Ki within the sword as well, and she was wondering why she hadn't been able to find him earlier. Had he been the one to fire that arrow at her? He had no bow, and he was supposed to have back up assisting him. He was far superior then Lizbeth, his power reaching nearly that of Namorel, the strongest person Lizbeth had ever faced first hand! He stood still, staring at her, before a voice entered her mind. It was odd, a light female's voice, rough but powerful, and it was surprisingly soothing. She spoke with a force, and it was unexpected, catching Lizbeth of guard, causing her to look around franticly to find the other person.

"You, the Kuriza yes? I am Kimo, and I am the guard of the man here to take your life. Prepare yourself, as he wishes to make it personal. He wont be the only one involved."

Almost as if on cue, the weird Samurai drew their sword, stabbing the ground between their legs, causing a small shattering in the snow and dirt. They pulled up their mask to show their rosy cheeks, and slightly scared eye. They were obviously female, as visible, though the armor covered any bust that would normally be visible, leaving Lizebth slightly confused as to what she was, before multiple men emerged from the bushes. She hadn't bothered to check power levels rise within the notable area. Four indiviuals all wielding cloth and chainmail armor burst towards the defenseless woman. Lizbeth staggered, lifting the sword to quickly deny a slash from the first one to land, throwing him back with a kick to the chest by her Geta-covered foot. The next man managed to slam into the chainmail, not cutting her, but putting force on her shoulder blade, before a swift turned kick to his leg sent to falling. Two more landed, swinging but missing as Lizbeth jumped back, going multiple meters in the air before landing harsh into the cold snow. No one of the people made noise during the altercation, leaving the music of the wind to play in the background of it all. Steel on steel made clangs and clings as she swung at the men, being parried and negated around every turn. She managed to get one of the men, slashing through his tough chains with her fierce power, slicing his leg clean off, spreading his sweet salty crimson into the snow. The bod fell, as she finished him off with a swift stab through the back, straight through and into the dirt past the chest. More crimson blood filled the white blankets below, filling the wind with the smell of salt and coins. Fear erupted from the opponents, one of them dropping to their knees, clear tears coming from his eyes as he released an awkwardly smaller blade from his belt. Digging the metal into his stomach, and pulling upwards with a sickening and vile rip in his skin sent shivers down Lizbeth's, her taste kicking in and releasing. Her eyes grew firm, stronger and more adept. She changed stances, meeting her two opponents with a certain assurance which reminded them of the warlords of the past. She kept the sword at waist level, facing the opponent and slightly tilted, showing the edge towards the two men. Her body cocked down, into a light crouch, until bursting upwards and onto the opponent. Her body was light, but weighted down by the armor, allowing herself to dig the sword into the skull of one of the men, whom was busy looking upon his dead comrade. He went down into a dirty splash that was left from his friend's oozing blood and organs, which slid from their sockets. Her arms forced the blade from it's holding within the man's new corpse, and her eyes darted for the last remaining soldier. He was the warlord, it was clear by his Oni mask which held back his emotions. He stood firm and strong, clearly an experienced warrior from a clan, his style different from anything she had ever seen, before he assaulted her from the side. He slid in the snow, on top of some ice to get around her and stab hard, managing to stab her in the shoulder blade, causing his sword to go straight through the Nekosaiyan's skin. It barely dodged bone, luckily, as she could feel through the searing pain. She grabbed the sword, whilst it was till embedded into her body, and crushed the steel under her palm's force. It shattered, breaking in half, barely sticking out of her shoulder from where it broke. The warrior jumped away, leaving his weapon within his opponent and retreieved another weapon from his belt on his waist, indentical to the last. He held four of them there, within respective sheaths, which made him seem like a real warrior attacking his foe. The blade swished through the air, being blocked by Liz's own, before a swipe to the back of her left knee took her down to a kneel. She sat on her knees, blood oozing from the wound still containing the lower half of the warlord's katana as well as the back of her knee, which made the man finally make a noise.

It was a chuckle, like someone gawking at a dog whom had just bit it's own tail, or a monkey doing tricks, the chuckle was disgustingly offensive, showing his dominance in the situation. He walked to Lizbeth and stood behind her, towering over her kneeling body, and placing his sword's edge against her neck. It was a swift motion, as she pulled back, between his legs as he slid the blade to slice her throat, forcing her sword upwards with it's point towards his head. It went through cleanly, entering from the bottom of the jaw, and exiting by breaking the top of his skull, making a clean gurgle from his mouth as it tried opening, but failing horribly. She stood up, having had faked the pain and damage on her knee, showing it never broke through, and retrieving her sword from his skull. She stabbed into the corpse's chest multiple times in anger, before walking away and firing a basic Ki blast into the corpse, disintegrating the body. The broken katana was removed from her shoulder as she repaired her wounds, her craving to carve the meat of her offenders and devour them subsided but still was pushing, wishing to break free. She licked her hand a few times, before wiping her mask of blood and removing it, as well as the armor, only keeping on her Kimono. She stood over the corpses, after having dragged them in front of the silent woman, whom hadn't moved an inch since the combat started. She removed her Nodachi from the ground, and used it to shishkibab the bodies and light them ablaze, and destroy any evidence of them ever having come to this forest.

"Who are you nyan" Liz's serious mentality asked, sheathing her now clean sword and placing it back on the stump, cleaning up herself a little more and releasing Ki to keep herself warm in the freezing cold. "-And why didn't you defend your master? He was in danger, and clearly you are far more powerful then I am nyan" She would continue. She was truly wondering the plans of this magnificent monster of a person.

"As I have said before, fair maiden. I am the Rōnin Kimo Takeda. I am a guard of my master, and protect him with my life. To protect my lord is my only goal, and to fail is only punishable by death." The voice would return to Lizbeth's head. It was firm, and powerful still, containing a bit of grace with each syllable. "I did not assist my lord, for he had challenged you with his own personal potential on the stand. He threatened your life, and was punished for his actions. As fate dictated, he was weak and useless, and you claimed his 'throne'." She removed her sword from the charred bodies, making the formed ash fall to the snow. Removing her armor, she was clearly as tall as her armor showed her, but she wasn't to large to be able to Liz correctly. She shifted her body, dropping her heavy, hundred thousand pound armor onto the ground below, only being left in a Gi. Lizbeth followed, removing her Kimono to expose her sleeveless Gi, and followed her to an open area a vision's distance away. The woman stopped in the middle of the field, and looked over at Lizbeth with determined eyes. "As a reward for claiming victory, I will teach you a style of combat that hasn't been practiced since my death many years ago."

"Yo- You are rewarding me for murdering your lord nyan?" she said, watching the woman get a few meters away from her. She moved her body side to side, swaying her hips before she stood still, and looked over at Lizbeth with a waiting smile. "I, uh, I guess I am fine with that?"

"Excellent, now let's begin." And without hesitation, she immediately changed attitudes. From the firm woman she originally was, with her strong posture, she became this loose, laidback looking person whom was swishing and swaying from side to side. Her body seemed off balance, and awkward to the naked eye, but Lizbeth could see past that. She knew that Kimo's core muscles were hard at work keeping her perfectly balanced whilst she mimicked being intoxicated. She fell to the ground, onto her back as if she was asleep, or unconscious, and in moments, she leaped, spinning on her back and kicked two trees in half! It was an amazing experience to witness, and when she stood back up, relaxing, Kimo offered to teach Lizbeth. She accepted whole heartedly.

It took many hours, and much training, going back day after day to become more and more talented, Lizbeth's Saiyan genes assisted as she managed to master the style of combat in a manner of a week. The time passed by so quickly, and Liz forgot that she wasn't buddies with the Samurai. She was about to say her farewells and leave, when she was struck with an awestriking question. "Lord Kuriza, you are truly a master warrior, able to master my family's fighting style perfectly in such a short time, and win the duel against multiple trained soldiers, you are truly someone to aspire to. I now regard you are Lord Kuriza, and beg you accept me as your personal guard." Lizbeth stood, unable to speak as she watched the tall woman get to her knees, and bow traditionally, and setting her blade in front of herself, as a sign of royalty and honor.

"Not at this exact moment Kimo, you are indeed an amazing warrior, but I am not worthy of being your lord as of right now. I will return to the bamboo forest when I am ready to journey with you. I accept your offer for the future. I expect to see you then."

"As you wish." And with that closing sentence, they didn't speak again that day, they stuck together drinking tea and relaxing, before Lizbeth left the forest with pride and reason to return. She had finally made a friend whom was looking up to her! She felt excited to travel with Kimo, but knew what she was required to do...

"I must become stronger!"