CHAPTER THREE ;;

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CHAPTER THREE ; RUMOR HAS IT 

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CHAPTER THREE ; RUMOR HAS IT 



Tattletales often found themselves in a predicament of baseless information. To be the center of attention, one must create or do something unexpected. The idea of oneself being the center of attention always applies to the Ubayashiki Family, as they have the right to command their subordinate to do whatever is right and decline what is wrong.

The Ubuyashiki Family has a valuable asset.

And a rumor already circulated in the organization about a slayer being their right-hand man. A slayer who could change the new era of swordsmen.

No one knew her name nor her breathing technique, but a piece of distinct information has been caught by all the members of the organization.

She has unruly crimson red hair that bathes under the glowing sunlight and chilling moonlight.

She was nowhere to be seen, however, once the day bleeds into nightfall and evil lingers; she was always ready to slaughter.

Some dubbed her as Oyakata-sama's favorite, some titled her as the unknown Hashira meanwhile others, creates boundless and baseless rumors about her on how she easily manipulated the head of the organization for her own amusement.

And with that, they started to attack the unknown.

Sound of a blade piercing through a body as she stabs the demon's chest felt like music in her ears. The shrilling tone it made sent goosebumps in her system. How the once full-life orbs of the demon turned dull in a blink of an eye as she claims its life with her own hands.

Blood dripping down on the payment created beautiful art in her magenta eyes; like a blank canvas immediately getting drawn courtesy of a crimson liquid. The full-blood moon behind her shadows stood as her one and only spectator for the night.

Praises thrown by her red-tailed hawk syncs with the motion of leaves swaying along with the cold breeze of the mountain. Throwing away the head that she cut down on the ground, it slowly degenerate.

Her magenta orbs met the demon's hateful ones as it's neck decides to turn into dust.

She smirks at the sight, bending down on the ground, she presses her hand on its forehead, and the wavering filth coming from the demon, halts.

"Putrid slush, icy-rain, once you make your way, let gluttony swallow you in vile," the widening of the demon's eyes created a satisfaction within her existence. It started to cry in agony and resentment as an acid formed towards its full head.

Its petrified call for forgiveness and insults fell deaf on her ears. Facing her back from the demon, she scathed back her nichirin blade on its scabbard.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 ─ knyWhere stories live. Discover now