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Word had spread around Japan of two different supernatural warriors, both of them being separate but equally interesting. One had been dubbed Fuyuzakura, 'Winter Cherry Blossom,' so named for her icy blade and the crystals that supposedly trailed behind it, virtually impossible to tell between sakura petals and snowflakes before they disappeared into the air. The most common running theory was that she was a yuki-onna, one who gave up on merely utilizing the cold of winter to kill her victims and took up the sword, but none were sure who she would be chasing; Fuyuzakura was certainly on the hunt for something, but the only ones who suffered her wickedly sharp blade were foolish warriors who sought to challenge her and get in her way. Not all who fought her died, but none of the survivors were left intact; missing hands, arms, legs, and even eyes were a common sight amongst those with the good fortune to find her mood to be merciful. These survivors always reported that her hands were also covered in crystal-fingered gloves, and that as soon as the fight starts, her right eye would trail glowing blue mist like a long breath in a snowstorm. The biggest snag when it came to calling her a yuki-onna was that her hair was the pale gold of the sun, with light blue streaks. A curious trait, inexplicable, yet consistent in all descriptions, and certainly not the jet black that the yōkai was known to have.
In either case, it was no matter, because whether she was a winter spirit or something else, Fuyuzakura was not willing to tell, and none were able to last long enough to find out what exactly she was.
The other warrior simply became known as the Ogre; though he was not a true oni, there was no denying he fought with the same inhuman ferocity as one, with the strength to rip into stone and steel just as well as he did into flesh. Indeed, at the sites of where he did battle, the land bore the marks of it; rent earth, shattered rock, felled trees, and always one small area where there was a slit in the ground, burnt into black ash. The weapons and armor of those he fought also littered the area, all of them smashed into uselessness. He may have fought with an unusually broad katana, but those who saw the Ogre and lived to tell the tale would speak in horrified whispers of him also carrying over his shoulder a wedge of metal wrapped in skin, perhaps that of the meat off of a giant's face, for there was also a pair of eyeballs on each side of the red meat that made the majority of this thing that tried to disguise itself as a sword. Wherever the Ogre went, the demon-disguised-as-man would seek out the strongest warriors, challenge them to duels as a test of strength and skill, and quick as a flash, the fights would end in victory for the Ogre. The one time that he was ambushed by a group of soldiers wielding the latest model of tanegashima ended with every last one of them on the ground, laid flat, and nearly all of them dead despite the entire squadron firing on him at the same time. The lone survivor would speak of how the Ogre's burning gold eyes and bellowing laughter would haunt his dreams forever.
To the remarkable shinobi of the Fu-Ma clan of demon hunters, Taki, all of the myths surrounding these two warriors were untrue. She knew both of them were mere humans, not demons or yōkai, and simply held immense power granted by two extremely dangerous swords. This Fuyuzakura? A woman trained by the former Demon Assassin of the Kokonoe clan, named Setsuka, possessed by the spirit sword Soulcalibur. The Ogre? His was a face Taki knew well, that of the rōnin Heishiro Mitsurugi, one that had apparently succeeded in his quest to find the cursed sword Soul Edge. Though Mitsurugi had clearly been affected by Soul Edge's power, attested to by the glowing eyes and superhuman might, he seemed to be in control of himself entirely. Considering how well Taki knew Mitsurugi, not succumbing to the sword's will did not make him any less dangerous. And although Setsuka herself had not been a fighter who sought renown as Mitsurugi did, Taki acknowledged that she most certainly deserved it, her sword arm moving with even greater speed than Mitsurugi's.
In either case, strong and skilled as she may have been herself, Taki had understandable doubts that she would be able to take on both of them, especially at once, and that was just the case at the current sight; though she stayed out of sight, she bore witness to Setsuka and Mitsurugi finally encountering one another. Taki kept her distance, watching as the two of them approached on a dirt road in a wide open area.
"So, we finally meet, Fuyuzakura," the Ogre said mockingly. He planted Soul Edge into the ground, as he always did before a fight. "From what I hear, you have been chasing me for quite some time now!"
Fuyuzakura's right eye began to glow, signifying her own readiness to do battle. "So I have," she answered, her voice colder and sharper than her frozen sword. "You know exactly why I am here."
A hearty laugh echoed from the Ogre's chest. "Indeed I do! Shall we begin?" he returned, drawing his katana and taking his fighting position, holding his sword in front of him. Fuyuzakura said nothing in return, simply entering her own stance, her hand not gripping the hilt of Soulcalibur but being ready to.
In an instant, both combatants had already closed a distance the length of five men's height, and the sound of their swords meeting rang out almost deafeningly. As trained as her own eyes were, Taki found it difficult to keep up with the extraordinary speed with with the two fighters moved. The motions went so fast that those mortal—and perhaps they were no longer mortal at all—enemies looked to just appear and disappear where their attacks clashed.
Dashing towards her opponent again, Fuyuzakura made a strike that hadn't managed to hit the Ogre himself, but it did cut through one of the watagami on his armor, and the piece of metal and leather clanked to the ground. In kind, the Ogre's blade had sliced away the intricate ropes around Fuyuzakura's waist, letting the cords fall off as well.
"You know," the Ogre wondered aloud, "I think I recognize your style. A fighter I dueled a few years ago, at the Murakumo Shrine grounds in Hizen Province."
At those words, Fuyuzakura hesitated, and her face went from deathly cold to creased with anger. "Who would you have fought there?" she shot back, visibly distressed by what she was hearing.
The Ogre grinned, knowing that he had struck a nerve. "A warrior with skill that could compete with mine, so fast with his blade that even the speed of a bullet from a tanegashima was no match for him. "He fought well, beyond a shadow of a doubt my greatest opponent, save for yourself."
"Do you remember his name?" Fuyuzakura asked, beginning to circle the Ogre, who matched her strafing step for step.
"Shugen," the Ogre answered. "Shugen Tomiya. You might have heard of him?"
Her face twisting in the agony of unbidden memories forcing their way into her head, Fuyuzakura hissed through her teeth. Taki watched the two warriors intently as they steadily moved around instead of attacking. "I..." Fuyuzakura hissed, "I did. I know that name, but from where?"
The Ogre's own expression grew almost sadistically pleased at his opponent's distress. "You know that name," he informed her, "because he was your master! The one who taught you how to fight, how to hold the correct stance, how to land killing blows faster than the human eye, and how to repel oncoming attacks without even having to draw your own weapon! Is it coming back to you yet?"
Fuyuzakura growled, stepping forward, and the Ogre matched it with an equal number of steps backward. "My master...!" she said with a snarl. "He was... my master?"
"Good! You're beginning to remember now," the Ogre barked. "Fight past the fog in your memory, past the blinding light of your sword, and think of what he looked like. His raven black hair, his sharp face, his bony but strong hands. Think!"
Fuyuzakura yelled in mental anguish, trying to replace her confusion with anger as she darted towards the Ogre with a ferocious swing, which the Ogre parried away. "You know what made Shugen the best fight I had ever experienced?" he continued tauntingly. "The fact that he was even better with a sword than me. I may have been stronger, but I had yet to achieve Shugen's speed and grace. The only reason I won was because of the slightest hundredth of a second that he was distracted by the cherry blossoms falling in front of his eyes, the petals that we had briefly thought to be snowflakes."
Again, Fuyuzakura launched an attack on the Ogre, this one leaving a red gash on his left arm, though he moved enough to keep it from cutting too deeply. "That's right, snow and blossoms, they were what granted me victory that night. Snow blossoms, like your name!"
Fuyuzakura found her memories pushing harder against the inside of her forehead. "My name?"
"Yes, your name!" the Ogre shouted triumphantly. "You remember it now! You are not Fuyuzakura, the onna-bugeisha of ice! You are Setsuka!"
"No!" Fuyuzakura denied. "I am–"
"The cruel irony of it all is that, when Shugen saw the petals falling like snow, he was undoubtedly thinking of you, Setsuka, named after his downfall," the Ogre continued before loosing a deep belly laugh. "You, Setsuka, are in your own way the reason he lost! As much as you cared for your master, it is you who killed him, you are the one responsible for his demise!"
Unbridled rage contorted Fuyuzakura's face into something ugly with such hatred. "Silence! I will hear no more from you!" she screamed as she lunged towards the Ogre, who blocked the attack and moved back again, standing next to Soul Edge once more. Taki, observing this, wondered at what he could be planning.
"You will remember your name, Setsuka! You will remember your master's name, Shugen! You will free yourself from the clutch of your sword and remember my name!" barked the Ogre, his expression turning far more serious than it had been for most of the fight.
Fuyuzakura—no, Setsuka—gasped in realization. "...Heishiro Mitsurugi!" she cried out, overtaken by her anger. "I, Setsuka, greatest living practitioner of Shinden Tsushima-ryu Battoujyutsu, will have satisfaction in ending your life, just as you ended Shugen's!" Mitsurugi stretched his arms outward, baring his chest for Setsuka to strike as an open target. "Then prove it! If you are yourself, and not a slave to that sword, you will kill me! Do it, now!"
"Die!" Setsuka shrieked as she ran forward, her sword out. There was a loud piercing sound, of her sword penetrating flesh, as she struck.
The air went still, and Taki's eyes widened at what she saw: Soulcalibur's slender blade was lodged into the eye of Soul Edge, Mitsurugi having yanked the cursed sword from its spot and brought it upward just in time for it to absorb Setsuka's killing blow in his place. Glancing in her direction, Mitsurugi yelled, "Taki! Now comes your time!"
Taki was already running towards Mitsurugi before she was told to, and as she ran, she had drawn her own sword, Rekki-Maru, cloaking it in the fiery green aura of her sealing magic. Before Setsuka could react herself, Taki made a wide slash upward that passed through both Soulcalibur and Soul Edge; there was a massive surge of power, and all three warriors were thrown off their feet. Looking at the mess of the Soul swords being fused and then enveloped in the cleansing energy of Rekki-Maru's magic, the three of them stared at the two swords vibrating in a violent fashion. There was an intense glow, and then a burst of fire and lightning as the cursed sword and spirit sword disintegrated.
"It's over," Taki sighed to herself as she got to her feet. "Finally."
Rising as well, Mitsurugi grunted as he rolled his shoulder. "The swords themselves may be gone," he pointed out, looking Setsuka in the eyes, "but they still leave traces." Indeed, Setsuka's right eye still glowed as the rush of battle was only just beginning to fade.
Setsuka was the only one who was yet to stand. "What just happened? Most of my memories are a haze, but my latest clear memories are of... you, Mitsurugi," she muttered, looking at the rōnin before her, "provoking me with thoughts of Shugen, into attacking you."
Sheathing his sword and then hooking a thumb into his belt, Mitsurugi offered a hand to Setsuka. "I had to make sure you would still be yourself," he explained. "I would take no chance that those swords could manipulate either of us and continue to corrupt the world after our fight."
Turning her head towards Taki, Setsuka concluded, "Thus your involvement of this shinobi, and her exorcism powers." Taki nodded in confirmation. Only then did Setsuka finally take Mitsurugi's hand and let him pull her to her feet.
"I imagine your thirst for vengeance has not died down," he stated, "but you no longer carry a blade. We aren't going to be fighting, at least for now."
Setsuka spat on the ground at Mitsurugi's feet. "Damn you, you filthy rotten bastard," she growled, though she didn't try to attack him. "I might be unarmed right now, but I will kill you someday, even if not today."
Taki put her sword away, then crossed her arms. "So what will you do now?" she asked. "I need to return to my village, myself."
"I... I will go back home as well, and think on what has happened," Setsuka conceded.
"And I will be on my way too," Mitsurugi threw in. "I'm not about to fight an unarmed opponent." He cocked a grin at Setsuka. "Come and find me when you have a sword of your own again, and then we'll see how you actually fight."
"It's a duel then," Setsuka agreed. "I'll see you in hell, Heishiro Mitsurugi."
Mitsurugi chuckled. "Heh. And you tell them who sent you, Setsuka."