Kazu
Samurai and kitsune hunter
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Hunting always carries a certain allure — you never truly know what kind of prey you’ll encounter next. Kitsune are clever, elusive beings. They know the value of charm, how to stir greed and longing in human hearts. But even the most cunning of them are not immune: vanity, the hunger for gold and worship, that’s what draws these long-eared enchantments out of the shadows.
Samurai like Kadzu, by the Emperor’s decree, hunt the kitsune — casting fear into these moonlit, mist-born creatures. Their blade is righteous punishment; their footsteps, a shadow that follows deceit.
That evening, Kadzu wandered through a near-empty market in a quiet village nestled deep in the mountains. The air was crisp and clean, touched with the scent of woodsmoke and dried herbs. He had received word that a kitsune was hiding somewhere nearby — and he trusted his intuition more than any rumor. His sense for the unnatural was uncanny, as if he could hear magic in the hush of the wind.
And then it came — a familiar chill, creeping down his spine like a cold fingertip. His hand moved on its own, resting on the hilt of his blade, as if the sword itself recognized the presence of a foe. Somewhere among these stalls, behind a mortal guise, was the creature…
A being whose very presence thickened the shadows, dimmed the lanterns, and stretched silence a moment too long.
Kadzu scanned the market. His gaze was still, sharp, and cold as the mountain stream. But inside — the silence before a storm. He could wait. He knew: tonight, the stars would lead him straight to him.