The Challenge [by babrhinos] to write about a blind samurai fighting off a bunch of ninjas
He fought, twisted and turned and sliced his mighty sword with strength unknown to any man that could see, slicing hard into the fighting staffs of the ninjas, but also into empty air.
They fought hard, fast and quick, always retreating to group back silently every time his heavy armor seemed to weigh him down the most. Striking where it was worst, always striking.
He swung his mighty sword, determined to give them the weakness they deserved. He sensed them, everywhere, moving. Writhing like snakes. So weak, he felt. . . .He swung and swung, hurtling at them easily with practiced moves. Moves he could only rely on by where they struck him. He had to let them strike him in order to find him.
He was blind, had always been blind. He had never let it get the better of him, not ever. Not until they told him that to be invaluable, he was to defeat a group of warriors on his own. Now, he was letting himself be struck, slicing place after place through empty air.
He fell. . . . . .
A ninja cried out in his last moment, showing a final weakness to his comrades. The brave samurai, blind but still seeing, stuck again. He finally found them, two of them. If his companion had proved right, there were three left to go.
The blind samurai swung once again into empty air, only to find that a third ninja had struck his knee. Painful though it was, he twisted around to strike. . . .