>>6047928The moment of silence lasts until five sword users step out from behind the blossoming trees. Four are clad in white versions of the swirling cloud motifs worn by the Sumi. The fifth person wears traditional clothes in pink and red, a slim girl with dark hair tied back. She seems more at home at a tea ceremony othan a fight to the death. Or rather, she would if it wasn't for that look in her eye.
"<Angela ... nice to meet you at last>," the girl says in formal, nearly antiquated Japanese. "<Your infamous reputation precedes you. But that brute strength of yours is merely a crude instrument, like a blunt axe. It dulls the mind and senses to true beauty. My sword is an extension of my soul, a brush with which I paint the canvas of life ... in the fleeting instant when existence fades, only there can one find true expression. The arc of a blade, the vivid crimson of a life taken, all careful calligraphy of composed and meticulous strokes. Shall I show you the elegance of my art?>"
"I don't speak Japanese," Angela says.