The God of Death

The commander gave the order and the solders crowded the samurai. He barely could move with all of the dead bodies that he had just killed. The remainder of the army ran past him and strait for the village. When Swift realized this his anger came forth tenfold. Hi blade found another solder in the stomach and as he drew it out he placed his hand on the sword that was still in his enemies sheath. His aura showed rage in the purest kind. He was no better than a wave of the sea washing over grains of sand. 

His swords were in perfect rythm. One two, one two, one two. His blades cut through enemies thrice at a time. Through the force of deamons that stood between him and his village. He reached it before the enemy.

He now stood between them and his beloved village. "I will give you a choice. You can die and the village can live or you can both die." The general shouted above the army. Swift simply thrust his middle finger up. The army charged. Swift shouted at the top of his lungs and brought the blades to a striking, no a slaughtering position. He jumped at said army. twisting and turning he stabbed ans slices, cut and stroke. no matter what the only thing he had to show that he ever had a fight was a slight cut on his cheek. Upon reaching the commander he rased his borrowed blade and brought it down onto his head breaking it over his skull. He died on the spot. They once again retreated.

The End

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