Fujiwara Sato(part 2)

Mid-Fall, 1020 A.D., Japan

Isaac looked at the man, now unmasked, deep dark circles under his eyes clearly visible even in the dimly lit space, as he obviously didn't sleep in days. Organizing his thoughts, Isaac sniffed the air a little, finding it quite weird that he hadn't noticed the man's presence earlier.

Only his eyebrows furrowed slightly as the scent entered his nose. It was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, and he could almost swear he had smelled it before, yet, like a word that just hung on the tip of his tongue, he couldn't seem to recall what is was.

"I'm really sorry for your sister, and although I know it probably won't make a difference to you, I really had no control over what happened. Can I ask for your name?" Isaac, looked at the young man, who picked up the sword and readied himself for a second attack. Looking at Isaac with a desperate gaze, not of one who came to kill... No... But of one who came to die.

"My name is Sato, Fujiwara Sato. Don't you forget it." He slashed towards Isaac once more, though unlike a few weeks ago, even though his slash still wasn't accurate, at least his hold of the sword was steady as it moved at a great speed, cutting through the air, releasing a sharp whistling sound as it approached Isaac's torso.

Only Isaac effortlessly intercepted the blade with a casual raise of his hand, effortlessly pinning it between his thumb and forefinger. "Look, Sato, whatever it is you are trying to do, it is pointless. Even if, by some miracle, you did manage to cut my throat, it would still not be enough to kill me. So just stop..." 

Sato, totally ignoring Isaac's words, tried to pull the blade out of Isaac's grip with all his strength but he couldn't even make it budge. Seeing it was pointless after the third try, he finally let go of the tachi's handle and tried to punch Isaac in the face with his now free hand.

Evading the amateurish yet considerably powerful punch by sidestepping to the right, Isaac gently placed the tachi on the nearby rack along a few other swords that were awaiting awaiting completion. 

Meanwhile Sato, missing his desperate attempt, stumbled forward and nearly lost his balance. His fists clenched in frustration, he struggled to regain his footing, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The weight of his grief and anger threatened to overwhelm him, but deep down, a glimmer of doubt nagged at his conscience.

Isaac watched Sato carefully, his expression unreadable. Despite the tension between them, there was a sense of understanding in his gaze, as if he could see into the depths of Sato's turmoil.

"Look I really don't feel like hurting you..."Isaac peeked for a moment at his scratched masterpiece, causing a light frown to rise to his lips. "But if you keep this nonsense up, I swear, you will regret it." 

Looking into Isaac's eyes, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sato hesitated. Only then, out of the corner of his eye, the picture of Natsumi's face within the yellow tongues of flames rose into his head as if it was within the burning furnace right behind Isaac.

The two stood there for a few moments, as Sato seemed to be having some sort of an internal debate, when suddenly, his eyes shifted, their color turning yellow like the burning flame and wild like those of a hungry wolf, causing Isaac's eyes to widen in surprise.

Seeing Sato's eyes become feral, old memories rose to Isaac from his years growing in the village. Though it was a rare sight even in his village which was full of them, the unmistakable yellow eyes left him with no doubt—Sato was a werewolf!

Isaac's eyes narrowed slightly as he recognized the telltale sign of Sato's transformation. With his swift, inhuman super-reflexes, Isaac made a split-second decision. And just as Sato's eyes once again locked onto his, now burning with a primal rage, Isaac disappeared from where he stood.

In an instant, he reappeared right behind Sato and with a single deft and precise strike to the back of his neck, Isaac rendered him unconscious.

Letting Sato's body drop to the floor limply, Isaac put on a simple black kimono that hanged at the corner of the room before he picked up the tachi from the rack of incomplete creations and, after checking it wasn't damaged in any way, he passed through the thick fabric separating the smithy from the shop. 

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After knocking Sato out, Isaac silently returned the tachi to its place and retrieved a bundle of yellow-colored herbs—wolfsbane—from behind the shop's counter. He only took a short glance at the chaos in the shop, where a man was bleeding on the floor, the clerk and a healer next to him, before he turned around and returned to the smithy.

Boiling the herbs in some water, Isaac forced it down Sato's throat before leaving him in the corner and getting back to his work. This katana was just that important to him, being the first one he, or anyone in this world, had ever made.

Taking a sip from the diluted aconite himself, which was only around 7-10% in concentration and mostly water, it had a similar effect on him to that of a glass of scotch. It slightly burned as it went down, making his senses duller and causing the extra thoughts in his head to disappear, allowing him to fully concentrate on the task ahead.

Even with his senses now duller, they were still leagues above those of humans, allowing him to still be precise as he once again drew out his claws and gently passed them over the slightly scratched blade.

After about a minute of pure concentration, his usual inscription of a wolf howling at the full moon was completed... Only it was still tainted by the thin, curved scratch, which started at the middle of the wolf's back.

Closing his eyes as his hand hovered only a few millimeters over the blade, Isaac breathed in and out slowly. With every puff of air, the world seemed to fade away as his breaths became rhythmic. At that moment, causing Isaac to enter a unique state, similar to that of his regular meditation.

He opened his eyes once more, now glowing bright green. When out of instinct, he pricked his own finger with one of his claws, letting a few drops of blood trail down before the wound closed, coloring the thin lines of the howling wolf's inscription blood red.

Now, with his eyes narrowed, they kept glowing as he stared into thin air, his neck straight and his head held tall clearly not even looking at the katana for even a second, as his claws lowered once again, gently touching its surface.

He continued from where the scratch started and with rapid, subtle, but accurate movements, he continued working on the inscription, his focus intense and unwavering.

As Isaac's concentration deepened, the energy coursing through him seemed to intensify, pulsating with each precise movement of his claw. The flame burning in the furnace shone brighter than ever, tongues of flames roaring out of it like fire from a dragon's mouth, charged with his focused intent.

With a final flourish, Isaac's claws traced the outline of a majestic pair of wings, each stroke imbued with purpose and power. The small amount of blood flowing into them seemed to animate the design, giving it life as he completed the intricate pattern.

The moment he finished, a surge of energy erupted from the katana, enveloping the weapon in an invisible aura that pulsed with power, dimming the moment it appeared. Isaac finished composing the handguard and the handle with meticulous care, ensuring that every detail was perfect.

And finally, with practiced hands, he slid the newly transformed katana into the sheath he had prepared beforehand, the metal meeting the leather with a soft click. As he fastened the katana to his side, Isaac couldn't help but feel pride at the sight of his completed work.

Only Isaac's didn't exactly remember all that happened while he was in his trance, and he didn't know yet, just how special, his creation really was...

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A few hours later, about a hundred kilometers away, near a small wooden house nestled in the shadow of a towering, snow-capped volcano, a young man with olive-colored skin approached. The simple wooden structure bore the familiar markings of Viking architecture with a mix of traditional Japanese characteristics.

Dragging behind him along the slightly muddy ground was the limp body of a black-haired Japanese man clad in rugged attire. Isaac entered the small building, Sato's limp body trailing behind him as he wandered into a classical Japanese-designed dojo.

Dropping Sato in the corner of the dojo, Isaac swiftly left the small house, reappearing a few hundred meters away on a small stone ledge at the entrance of a narrow, dark cave set into the wall of a steep cliff. As he entered the cave, Isaac walked at a slow pace, gently tapping on the handle of his katana, a slight smile on his face.

Walking a few meters into the cave, Isaac came upon a metal fence barricading the passage, with a gate set within it. Peering through the bars, he fixed his gaze on the farthest wall of the cave, where around a dozen figures sat by the stone wall, half of them bound to it with metal chains. A fire pit placed at the center of the space heated up the entire area.

Opening the gate, none of the figures made a sound as he approached the one standing on his far left. Stopping right in front of her, he set his eyes on the ragged figure of a young Japanese woman seated by the wall, her hand bound with a metal cuff. As her eyes met Isaac's, her pupils glowed a deep orange, much darker than Sato's.

"What do you want this time?! I already told you, I know nothing of those witches you mentioned," she spoke with an angry, snide tone.

"That's not why I'm here. I met someone today... Someone who shouldn't possibly appear anywhere near this continent... And, I was kind of hoping you might know how to clear this up for me," Isaac answered calmly, though his hand lingered on his sword handle, indicating his readiness to use force if necessary.

"I have been stuck in this hole for almost two years! Look, I know those 'humans' think that killing people is wrong, but you are more like us..." She gestured toward the other figures bound to the wall. "We have been hunting all around Japan for hundreds of years. I really don't understand why it bothers you so much..."

Isaac gave her a cold glare and slightly drew his sword from its sheath, causing her expression to shift to one of fear.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Just tell me how I can help!" she pleaded, raising her hand to protect her face, her voice filled with deep nervousness.

"You see? Why can't you just start with that? You would have saved us both a lot of time." Returning the sword to its place, Isaac smiled. "I have recently seen someone... Like me... But as you know, the only ones of my kind are in the hidden continent..."

Hearing Isaac's words, the girl's already scared face seemed to turn horrified at the thought of another man capable of the same things as Isaac. If he was even slightly like Isaac, it was nothing short of terrifying.

"L...Look, I don't know anything about anyone remotely like you. The only other wolf I have seen in my two centuries of life was a normal Honshu wolf..." She stuttered only slightly, but she still managed to speak clearly. 

Sighing deeply, Isaac looked to the side at the other figures who sat next to her, he could hear her heartbeat and already knew how to differentiate between fear and lies.

"Anyone of you knows anything?" He asked again, his voice just as calm, but no answer followed. Making Isaac release a disappointed sigh...

"There are three kitsunes, a yuki-onna, a dryad and even an oneiroi sitting in this cave, and yet you all know nothing about neither witches nor werewolves... Have you all been living in a cave?" Isaac let out a frustrated chuckle at his own joke and he remembered just how much he worked to catch those few, single supernatural creatures. 

Letting out a sigh, he approached another girl who looked worse off. This one wasn't tied to the wall, just sitting silently with her hands in front of the flames.

"Child abduction and torture... It's your time." Isaac didn't even wait for her response as his teeth sank deep into her throat, and as his eyes turned blood red, he ripped it apart, killing her before she could even make a sound. 

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VOTE and give me some POWER STONES if you like the story so far...And if you don't... Well, I really have no idea what you are doing here than...

As I wrote in the synopsis, and the last chapters, this is just the result of a writing blockage regarding other stories, but at least for now, it will become one of the main one I try to update regularly. 

Anyway, leave a COMMENT if you don't understand something, or have any idea, I promise I read every comment related to my story, won't address toxic people though... don't like my story, than just don't read it... 

Also If you want you can give a try to my other fanfics:

HP: Lost Legacies of Magic (Adventure,...)

HIMYM :Barney Stinson... But with a vampire system?! (Harem ,Fantasy, Comedy)