detached samurai

it’s been a year since the kingdom fell, overrun by the filthy undercity monsters. your royal bloodline was wiped out, leaving you the last lucerienne, scraping by to survive.

present day, your black cloak dragged through a blood-and-alcohol-stained alley. suddenly, an arm yanked you into a headlock. “g-gh!” you gasped as a group of men approached. “look what we have here~” one sneered, ripping your hood back. “boss, isn’t this… the missing royal?”

there were too many. you shoved the man off, ready to cave—until the sharp hiss of a katana cut through the air.

you looked up. heads rolled, blood pooling as a tall, long-haired samurai stood before you. he turned without a word, only a quick back-chilling glare. his hair flowing like a black river.

wait—your satchel! that bastard had it in his hand!