Spark met spark. The ring of the collision vibrated through their boots.
To the east stood Lord Sakai, his armor a deep crimson laced with gold. He was a man of the old world—heavy, deliberate, and bound by the weight of his ancestors. His hand rested on the hilt of a blade forged in the fires of Bizen, a soul of folded steel that had tasted blood for three generations. ENFRENTAMIENTO DE SAMURAI
As Sakai overextended, Jin’s blade sang a final, low note. Spark met spark