Blackfeather Woods the assassin's road

masa swipes gaze from shinjou to kikyo. lip curling in thought. taking a deep breath of restraint.
but it is quick that his gaze is to slide to shinjou, burning with scorn. do not dishonor yourself. the words are low, dangerous in their calm. you shame me, shinjou hirohiko. hold your tongue before it is taken.
his head turns now to kikyo, and this time, there is something harder set in his gaze. though he has called down his bannerman once more, it does not spare this mutt his judgement.
a lord with no land. a general with no men. i see. the words are not meant to mock but to dig reality deep. you call yourself warlord, kikyo-sama. if your warriors return, i will see it. but until then, you are one man. he observes. it seems the samurai masa is a double-edged blade in his wordings.
masa hums once. contemplative, then draws breath. you will find no blade drawn from mine, son of sadasane.