SNAFU: Hunters

Even tired and frightened, the Akechi soldiers were still veterans, and Izō had to swallow a momentary flash of respect when they didn't scatter like frightened sparrows. The ashigaru drew up into a ragged phalanx, bristling with spear points.

"Did Nobunaga ever tell you what I did for Lord Hatano?" Izō kept his voice low and conversational so as not to draw the creature's attention. "I held the rank of general and yet I commanded barely a dozen men."

The creature was a jagged shadow, little more than the rustle of leaves marking its quick movement among the tangled branches. One of the ashigaru jabbed into the darkness and had the spear wrenched from his hands.

"You're a long way from Kyoto. The mountains in these parts are wild, full of all manner of terrible things. My Lord couldn't have them wandering into his villages, killing his people, my people." Izō hunkered down, careful to keep his movements slow. Mountain oni were voracious but stupid. Like birds of prey they were attracted to sudden movements and shiny objects. "Unfortunately, you're not my people."

The oni reached from above, threading the spears to pluck a black-bearded warrior from among the press. Izō caught a glimpse of long, sinewy arms, segmented and muscular like the body of a worm, then the man was gone, a single shriek the only sign of his passing.

Black blood rained from above as ashigaru stabbed up into the trees, stippling the soldiers' faces like ink from the brush of a careless artist. The oni's pained snarl was met with cheers from below, but the Akechi warriors' success was short lived as the creature dropped down among them.

It was perhaps twice the size of a man, its boneless body like a festival drum corded with rings of glistening pink muscle. It had no eyes or ears, only a mouth, wet and toothless, yawning wide at the bottom of its body. Things moved beneath the oni's rubbery skin, the vague outline of bodies struggling within the creature like flies caught in pine sap. Legless, but with five tentacles radiating out like the limbs of a starfish, the oni flailed about, entangling men and weapons.

To their credit, the ashigaru stood firm. Too close to bring their spears to bear, they hammered at the oni with the butts of their weapons, but with no bones to break or organs to crush, the spears did little damage. One of the soldiers turned to flee, only to be knocked flat by a whiplike blow from one of the oni's long arms and dragged howling into the thing's mouth.

As satisfying as it was to see his enemies destroyed, the sight conjured a sour tightness in Izō stomach. While it was true Akechi warriors had brought death and subjugation to Hatano lands, they hadn't murdered Izō's lord. The Akechi were but one of many clans sworn to Nobunaga. These men were soldiers, loyal to their lord just as Izō was to his. He grimaced as the oni swallowed another shrieking ashigaru, its body ballooning grossly as the man joined his comrades within. But for a twist of the wheel Izō might have been among them.

The trouble with killing birds is that you have to be sure they deserve it.

Izō sighed, shaking his head – no warrior should die like that, no matter what monster they served. He searched the undergrowth for his blade. Although scarred and broken, there were yet powerful enchantments bound to the steel – the work of Emperor Jimmu's famed Yamato smiths, passed down through millennia to protect the people of Japan.

A glimmer caught his eye and he stooped to see his sword had fallen amidst a small pile of teeth. Izō bowed his head in a brief prayer for forgiveness before retrieving the blade. Lord Hatano would be avenged, but not like this.

Izō crept around the clearing, careful to present as small a target as possible. Fortunately, the shouts and struggles of the Akechi kept the oni occupied, although from the look of things it wouldn't be for long. Barely a half-dozen ashigaru remained.

While every oni was different, Izō had hunted ones similar to this. The thing's arms were long and quick despite their size and its mouth was at the bottom of its body. Like a hawk, the thing was made to swoop down on its victims. Izō scowled at the nearest tree, not looking forward to what he needed to do. Unfortunately, the best way to surprise a bird was from above.

Sliding his blade between his teeth, he climbed, the rough bark scratching his hands. Izō had never fancied himself a climber, but the trees were sturdy with many thick branches spaced closely together – well suited to an oni that relied on surprise. He edged out over the battle, almost losing his grip on the branch as he took the knife from his mouth. Only five ashigaru remained below; their hopeless cries mingled with the oni's happy gurgling. Sweat stung Izō's eyes, and he blinked it away.

Looking down at the creature, Izō regretted not having committed seppuku after his Lord was murdered. Dying would've saved him a lot of trouble.