"We have confird that the Uesugi army are not moving, my Lord," one of the scouts told Gengyo as he knelt on one knee in front of him.
"Good," Gengyo replied with a nod. The dark had reigned for a few hours yet and the n had begun to wake from their sleep and they gathered rowdily around fires to share a al together before stealing a few more hours of rest.
The Uesugi n had been so exhausted and demoralised from their fruitless searching, they had set up camp right where they were, in the heart of the wide road and out into the sprawling fields. Their sleep would be fitful, not doubt, fearing what lay out there, lurking behind the long grass.
It was modest celebrations that were in order for Gengyo and his n. Just enough drink to reward themselves with, but not enough that it would limit their ability in the intended battle in the morning.
Morohira’s screams pierced through the air as the dic pulled the arrow shaft clean from his chest. The dic had gone white as Morohira squeezed his shoulder. It seed it would not take much more to completely crush it.
"I... I need to put so snitches in now," he managed to say. He was a young man, but competent enough.
"Do it," Morohira spat, a whole bottle of sake in his hand, using his liquor to dull the pain.
The dic drew out a large needle with a length of thread attached. He pierced into the skin like it was a layer of cloth and slowly brought it in closer together.
"Guh..." Rin complained turning away.
"No stomach for it?" Gengyo asked. Both Rin and Akiko were unable to look at it. In fact, they were doing everything they could to block it from their senses, holding their sleeves up to cover the corner of their eyes.
"It’s disgusting," Akiko asserted, unwilling to even be goaded into looking. For such fearso fighters that caused such brutality, Gengyo found it amusing that they would still be squeamish about sothing like this.
"It’s not that bad," Gengyo said. "It’s just like leather, isn’t it? Only it’s a stretchy layer of human skin. Pretty disgusting, now that I put it like that."
"Stop... I can imagine it. You’re too cruel, Nii-san. You used to get squeamish just cleaning a fish, so you can’t make fun of us," Rin replied, looking like she might vomit. She had a bowl of rice in her hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. The chopsticks had not moved in minutes and she was eyeing the rice with distaste, looking like she might throw it over her head at any mont.
And Morohira’s screams continued. He gritted his teeth, but they still ran out through his teeth. The n that he led had gathered round him, holding him back, secure and firm so that the dic could do his job without fear of being decapitated.
There were two n on each limb, but when he grunted and his muscles tensed, they had to lock their feet firmly into the floor, otherwise he would drag them forward, seeming like he really might break free.
"I would like to cleanse it with fire," the dic said timidly. "It’s the only way to be sure it stays clean."
"To hell with it! Set on fire, you bastard," Morohira replied, sake dripping down his chin. He was thoroughly drunk by now.
The dic had left a knife in the coals of the fire and when he withdrew it, the tal was glowing red and throbbing. As he approached Morohira with the knife, he struggled all the more, moving his mouth in sothing that might have approached fear.
When the knife made contact with the flesh, it let out a sickening sizzle and was punctuated by the most anguished scream imaginable. Akiko and Rin covered each other’s ears wordlessly, unable to stomach the sound much less look at it.
"It’s done," the dic said finally, taking his knife away from the flesh and taking a few asured paces away from Morohira, and suddenly it was his turn to grow afraid. The eyes of the devil were on him and they were filled with anger. "You can release him now," the dic said in sothing that was close to a whisper as he turned around and put one leg in front of the other, preparing to run.
The n released him at once and Morohira threw himself from them. "F.u.c.k that hurt you bastard," he grumbled, locking gazes with the dic, filled with an aggressive adrenaline. It was the only thing keeping the pain at bay, but it demanded so sort of retribution for the damage that had been caused to his body.
The dic began to run and Morohira ran after him. It was like watching a sheep try to run away from a tiger. With a few quick bounds Morohira had closed the gap and had lowered his shoulder about to tackle him.
"Careful! You’ll undo your stitches!" The dic shouted desperately, right before he hit. And then they collided and he was sent flying with the force of a bull, Morohira on top of him. Gruff yet nervous laughter broke out from the n. It was certainly amusing seeing their young dic tossed around like a ragdoll, but there was sothing unnerving about the ease with which Morohira did it.
Morohira brought back his fist, for another instance of revenge, but from the tackle alone the young dic had been knocked out cold. "Pah," Morohira complained, shaking his head, getting up from his prey. Rokkaku was at his side. "It hurts like a bitch, Rokkaku."
"Pretty funny, though," his friend replied with a rciless grin.
"You bastard." Suddenly, Morohira had a new target for his rage and the two of them fell to the floor in a wrestling match, covering their clothes in dust, absolutely no regard for the stitches that had just been put into Morohira’s chest.
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