[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Despite being a fairly centralized religion, with many spokes and branches from a great unifying core, it was fairly unusual for Jashinists to receive orders, or even requests. Most were free to do as they wished, so long as they served Jashin in their own way. Offering up prayer and chakra, guiding the lost, or offering up the broken bodies of the unbelievers.

But there were times when problems required a more direct solution.

Kyodai Jun's prior zeal had earned him an extrajudicial execution at the hands of a protective settlement of farming folk. Though death was not a great evil, there was more work for the older now-Prophet to do.

Receiving word of this need from a cloister they were passing through, Utsuwa had resolved to deliver liberty, of one kind or another, unto their wayward brother. A little surprising fkr others of their order; Utsuwa was a prophet and not an Inquisitor after all. It was not as though there were many of them, and waiting for an Inquisitor to arrive would simply doom Jun to an ashen fate.

Utsuwa overlooked the humble farming village of Akamori, adjusting the tengai-gasa atop their head. The cross, and the abused body lashed to it, was visible from here. A funeral pyre being built around him even now. They had pledged to come here, to render aid, but now that they were here, the question was how. Farming folk were not soldiers, and even Utsuwa would be a match for any of them. Perhaps even several of them. But an entire mob? That would end with two Jashinists upon the pyre.

Looking at the situation, Utsuwa likely had a few hours at best. Would diplomacy work? Threats? Stealth? None of these were skills they had much skill with.

[Muramasa Uemon]

atop verdant hills

---

Soreness, a dull aching of his wounds whenever he moved, and stiff, burnt fingers still wrapped in bandages.

The wanderer had seen far better days... but he was here, on business, all the same. "Utsuwa-san." He muttered quietly as he approached, kneeling down atop the hill next to them. "The fields are clear." Per his reconnaissance.

For good reason, it seemed, as the village was understandably preoccupied. "It seems the villagers are all focused on your brother." Uemon's eyes were fixed on the village, but he spared at glance at the slight priest as he spoke. Tengai-gasa on their head, standing at the hill's crest... "We are not exactly inconspicuous up here..." Not at all.

A position he preferred not to be in if at all possible, but he imagined to be a recurring theme if he meant to work further with these priests. "It is a good thing these people are not shinobi." He thought, turning his gaze back. It would mean less dangerous resistance for them, and was the reason they had been able to get so close in the first place. 

Uemon slipped his uninjured hand beneath his jacket, producing two small scrolls from his waist holster there before unfurling them on the grass. A single Hitsuji seal later, and two puffs of smoke would suddenly appear via the Kugutsu Kuchiyose no Jutsu. After it cleared, his two small surveillance puppets, Tsuki the rabbit and Date the frog, sat upon the parchment. The wanderer winced as he unclasped his right hand, then gestured forth with his left.

Threads made of chakra materialized with the Kugutsu no Jutsu to attach to the white hare, and send it hopping casually down the hill. "Press that button on the frog's side." He said, focusing on directing the rabbit as it made its way towards the village. Carefully, as a true animal might approach. "We'll be able to hear them like this."

Information was a powerful thing, and this way, words of gossip might find them through Tsuki's microphone. As it was activated, the screen on Date's stomach would flicker to life and any audio near the rabbit would be transmitted.

Being received through speakers inside of Date's open mouth. "They may not be shinobi... but they still vastly outnumber us." Uemon said, staying concentrated on his task. Already his mind was racing to think up some kind of viable strategy. "I doubt we can talk them down..." He said, pondering. "We need to be smart about this."

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"'Twould appear that they full intend to speed mine brother to Jashin-sama's obviation. A shame that they cannot see it is they who should throw themselves on the pyre," Utsuwa's voice were pitying, and it seemed their thoughts had soon turned back to theology and philosophy, and away from the task at hand.

If Muramasa had hoped for a strategically minded ally, he would be bitterly disappointed. But even Utsuwa knew better than to simply charge in without thought or tactics.

Utsuwa crouched down to examine the blasphemous artifact, and pondered destroying it. They were instead bid to press the button on the side, and the tengai-gasa shook as they resolutely refused. "'Tis not my place to sully this vessel with thy vile magicks. I shall make use of thee, as thee seek to make use of us. Pray refrain from inviting me into thy sacrilege." They left the frog to Muramasa's use. They were clearly interested in its use and function, but Utsuwa apparently had no interest with actually interacting with it. Every drop of chakra within them was reserved for Jashin. Even risking it's misuse was unacceptable.

Assuming Muramasa obliged and accommodated their refusal to perform such a simple task and pressed the button for himself, there were words to overhear. A pair of villagers keeping to the edge of the murderous mob.

"Are you saying you want that monster to just walk free?!" An enraged female voice accosted a older man, holding his hands up placatingly.
"I am just sayin'! Those Law Country folks saw what's happening. If we just let them-" There has a thud. A pitchfork tapped against the ground.
"He murdered my kin! Our kin! Let those pencil pushers worry about 'improper procedure.'" The argument came to a swift end, it seemed. "If you don't want to help, stay out of the way. I need to get the pitch."

Pitch likely meant the fire was set to be lit within the hour.

"If we had the numbers, I would advise making this place a bloody ruin. Seems the surest way to vouchsafe my brother's freedom," Utsuwa commented idly. "How wouldst thee 'be smart,' as thou sayest? The only notion that springeth forth from mine mind is that a second Jashinist is like to win their ire, and their attention. Without the strength for annihilation, we must needs employ another weapon. Fear. Subterfuge. Distraction. I am certain if we could render painful death unto a handful, the rest would consider the rout." Muramasa was more expert in these matters, so they would wait to see if he had some cunning plan. Some unholy magick to scatter a crowd.

[Muramasa Uemon]

eyes, umber and crimson peer

---

Knelt on the hill, he listened as the Jashinist spoke of pyres and gave them a brief side eye. "...a true shame."

A slight bit of sarcasm tinged his quiet muttering despite his best efforts to hold back. If he could help it at all, no one would be burning today. Uemon moved Tsuki and bid the priest help, but the basket next to him shook.

Refusal, it seemed, to interact with the puppet. "...'magicks'?" The wanderer turned his head to stare at Utsuwa, eyes half-lidded in minor annoyance. Then, his free index finger moved to click the button. "It's... technology." He muttered, but quickly abandoned any intent to argue. "I was confused by it too, once..." He thought. "...I suppose."

Tetsu no Kuni was a nation that was behind the times, in more ways than one. Before his family's exile he had never even seen a radio, let alone a camera. "Were they anyone else... this might even be endearing." A rube in a tengai-gasa, confused by the concept of video, eyeing the rotund frog with suspicious curiosity... "Almost precious..." He thought.

Rather sardonically as he shifted his gaze to Date's screen, to watch while he conducted his small rabbit puppet from afar. "...in a deadly, eerie zealot sort of manner." In any case, Tsuki's microphone was now active, which allowed them to listen in on the villager's conversation. Utsuwa joined him in a crouch as he focused on the audio. Muffled as it was, some key bits of information came through the speaker. "Bureaucracy..." He muttered. The villagers spoke of some Hoki no Kuni official holding up the execution, but as he half-expected, the farmers were impatient.

The same way he would be if some raving lunatic had slain his family. "Even if we had the numbers, I wouldn't recommend that." Uemon replied to the priest's musings, fiddling with the frog's volume as fingers on his puppet hand moved. "Wouldn't farmers make for meager offerings, anyway?" He spared Utsuwa a brief glance. In truth, he was simply against razing an entire village to the ground to save one murdering madman. Regardless of his own desires though , this little assignment was still a learning experience. "I must know of the ways of Jashin."

Right or wrong... the priest would inform him. A question as to what smartness entailed followed, and the wanderer glanced at them slowly once more. "Not singing, to start..." But that was only one part of it. Utsuwa offered up themselves as distraction and he shook his head. "That would likely only end with you on the pyre." Uemon replied, listening to the rest of their suggestion. Direct violence could work... but there were less brutish methods they could employ here. Utsuwa named several, and he shook his head. "No, not any one of those..." Uemon returned his gaze to the village below, narrowing his eyes. "We'll use all of them." Fear, subtlety, misdirection— all powerful allies when used separately. He utilized them himself in the past to great effect, so he knew they worked best when employed together. "Rural folk tend to be superstitious." He said, looking to his covered forearm.

An idea was beginning to take shape in his mind. "Just before they set your brother ablaze, if a large, three-headed snake were to appear..." The wanderer's eyes drifted over to the priest's basket. "...I believe they would panic, then scatter." Once more, he turned to the village. "Which would give you time to free him." It was not the most complex of ruses, but that also meant less room for error. Perplex the opposition, then act swiftly.

Using the ensuing confusion for cover to complete their objective. "Oh, and..." He said, shooting them another brief glance. "...you should leave the tengai-gasa behind. To better blend in." 'Better' was relative here... though, as long as the small priest did not open their mouth, they stood a chance. He tilted his head. "Thoughts?"

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"Let the Inquisitors worry about the quality of the offering. I seek to bring release from pain to as many as I am able - I care not if my name be slandered as a weakling and a coward by brethren mine." Utsuwa didn't sound annoyed, but it was clear that there was a point of friction, there. A theological dispute or disagreement between factions, or perhaps just Utsuwa and the more orthodox of their order. "I would slaughter them to free them from pain, from the cycle of violence and vengeance. Suff'ring ends in but one way - the embrace of Jashin-sama. If they shalt not come willingly, then they must needs perish." A simple but extreme stance. It truly seemed that Utsuwa believed that either everyone should worship Jashin, or die.

Utsuwa listened to the plan, staring out at the village as the pyre was prepared. It was not as though they had time for great and complex plans, nor some cunning strategy. "Thy blasphemous serpent is indeed frightening and imposing to those that yet fear pain and death. Even if they should find their courage and rally to slay such an unholy abomination, that may yet provide us with the moment to seize freedom from the jaws of untimely death." Dying was no great evil for a Jashinist. But there was always so much work to be done, and so few faithful. It would be for the sake of Jashin that they saved Jun, not his own.

They untied the know that kept their weaved hat in place, then carefully set it on the side of the road. "Pray remember - I can not strike at the unbeliever ere I announce the glory of Jashin-sama. Should any accost me, I am bound to share at least some of His glory with them. Whether by word or deed." It was a simple but profound disability for those who preferred subtlety and misdirection. But it would allow them to get close enough to strike, before they announced the name of their god.

"This is like to turn to chaos, so preparation appeareth moot. Art thou ready, Muramasa-dono?"

[Muramasa Uemon]

at akamori

---

Even as he paid attention to Date's screen, the Jashinist's words evoked a growing interest within. "Strife?"

Amongst Jashinist sects, it seemed. "So... despite their prowess, Inquisitors are more restrained." Strange... but then, religion, as a concept was too. "In practice, if not in theory." He thought. "And only by virtue of them favoring quality over quantity."

Deadly companions, in either case. Utsuwa seemed to be a font of information, and would serve as his guide along this foreign, dangerous path. "I just need to keep my more blasphemous thoughts to myself..." Thankfully, he was a rather reserved person. Any wry commentary he had could be done internally, where it was usually performed. Uemon turned his gaze again to the village, offering only a small nod. "If Jashin-sama wills it..." He let his words trail.

The implication, he thought, clear enough. The unnecessary slaughter of villagers was not something he wished to partake in... but he was too experienced to think his plans infallible. "Bloodshed may be required..." If a brace, or even a half dozen should have to fall... "...so be it." He was already a murderer— a criminal in some lands not far from where they were now. If these Jashinists were the tool he believed them to be, and their zealotry could be directed...

...what was a few more lives to his tally? "I know— so we'll get as close as we can in the meantime." He replied, watching as they removed the basket from their head. "Try to position yourself near the pyre." Uemon instructed, motioning for the frog beside him to hop on his left shoulder. There appeared to be a barn of sorts on the opposite side of the hamlet. "I'll hide there and wait for my moment." He said, pointing. Utsuwa spoke again, on the pointlessness of plans and he turned to give them one final glance. "...preparation's never moot."

Chaos was a given in the Shinobi World, and strategies almost never went off without issue... but it was still always preferable to plan rather than improvise. "Yes, I am ready." He said, reminding himself not to get too anchored down in argument with the small priest. Almost as if a lever had been pulled, his old way of speaking was back.

Lessening usage of contractions, a more deliberate choice of words— a sign of his own readiness in stressful situations. "Watch for black smoke, listen for screams... then move to secure your brother." He nodded towards Utsuwa, his eyes narrowing a touch. "May Jashin-sama guide you." A final wish of good luck as he stood and briskly made his way down from the hill. Slinking off towards his objective, his footsteps quiet as ever.

Nighttime would have preferable for this sort of operation, but even with the sun just beginning to descend he was able to infiltrate easily enough. Uemon ducked into the barn proper, placing his back against a shadowed wall. A flick of his fingers later and he commanded Tsuki to hide near the pyre itself, using Date's screen to help navigate.

Once the rabbit was sat next to one of the houses with a clear line of sight, he watched in anticipation. Using his Sense and the camera's visual feed to ensure Utsuwa was in position before he did anything else. "Soon..."

Uemon thought, flexing the bandaged fingers on his right hand as he waited. "This will all have been worth it, Father."

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"As much as I am loathe to be reliant 'pon thy sacrilege, no law requireth that I forswear making use of thee and thine," Utsuwa commented idly, apparently having little to add in terms of strategy or ideas. "I shalt wait for thy signal, then. Like unto the viper, I shalt strike, then deliver this brother mine from harm." They clutched their medallion, closing their eyes to engage in a short prayer. "As Jashin-sama wills." They echoed, and then set out towards the village. Their pace was rapid, but still no faster than a walk.

Fortunately for Utsuwa, the small farming settlement didn't have any guards posted, or they were distracted by the execution. Wood was piled up around the beaten and bloody body on the cross, his muttered prayers drowned out by the din of the crowd.

Utsuwa longed to rip the crowd asunder. To yell the truth of Jashin. But... this brother of theirs had more work to do. And as an extension of Jashin, Utsuwa could not turn their back on one of His faithful.

Utsuwa's diminutive stature made seeing past the crowd virtually impossible, and by the time they were within striking distance of the unbelievers. They perched themselves on their toes, catching a glimpse of the townfolk dipping straw in pitch, and adding it to the pyre.

Hopefully Muramasa's blasphemy would not take much time.
"I've not seen you before," A gruff voice accosted Utsuwa from behind, and Utsuwa turned, head tilted towards it's source. A gruff, heavily built, older man, arms crossed, and a brow raised in suspicion. "Where did you come from?"

Utsuwa clutched their holy symbol, and their lips parted. A complication. They had to answer. The law pressed against their thoughts, and they were bound to answer.

[Muramasa Uemon]

amidst black-white smoke

---

Though the small priest lacked a mind for strategy, they were certainly no base fool.

Uemon could tell this shortly after meeting them, and indeed felt they possessed insight into matters he might never know of. Utsuwa was also, of course, quite clearly mad. "What was it that Suppa used to tell me, back then?" He thought.

Attempting to recall the nukenin's words as he slinked off to take position. "'There is a fine line between genius and insanity'... or some such platitude." An old saying— and typically used by his former mentor after a younger Uemon had finished berating him for foolishness or drunkenness. "Usually it was both." He remembered with a shake of his head.

Regardless of Utsuwa's inability to ambush, they had no issue with using him to do so. Mutual benefit indeed, and once this was finished, he would have done a favor for their order. "I doubt this alone will earn their trust, and I hold no expectation of gratitude from a group of zealots..." The wanderer thought, eyes still fixed on Date's screen while he waited. It would take time, and perhaps other tasks like this. "...still, it is a step forward." A small step, but one all the same.

It did not take long for the priest to come into view on Tsuki's camera, and they were almost immediately accosted by a villager. "It begins." He thought, swiping a small pellet from one of his pouches. Uemon dashed the single smoke bomb on the ground just outside of the barn, then pushed his right sleeve up to reveal the serpent tattoo on his forearm. A bit of chakra was all it took to activate his Karada Fūinjutsu. "Go, Yamata." Another burst of smoke.

Lighter than the bomb's, mixing in with the dark smog as a large shadow appeared within. Some mechanical clanking sounded out as two more heads emerged from its neck, and as some of the villagers turned towards it...

...several loud hisses cut through the air. "What is that?" One muttered, beckoning some of the others to turn and look with him. "It's... I think it's—" The smoke parted, and the puppets' heads were revealed. Large white scales, yellow eyes, and cruel-looking fangs. It hissed again and a villager backpedaled only to fall. "A dragon!" The man screamed as he pointed a finger at the great beast, and it slowly began to slither forward. "Run!" Panic.

As expected, but while the mob whipped itself up into a frenzy, they did not all scatter. Many did, but others froze in disbelief at what they were seeing. Some took defensive postures with farming tools. But for the moment, nearly everyone was focused on the creature and its menacing advance. Uemon controlling it via the Kugutsu no Jutsu.

Still concealed, relying on his Sense and Tsuki's camera to guide the lumbering thing. "A dragon..." He thought to himself with a slight tilt of his head. "Technically, he is not wrong." In the stories, the eight-headed serpent was a mythical beast. Yamata on the other was quite worldly, and still not fully repaired from its battle with the Ishi-nin.

Observant eyes might note some faint cracks in its central head— unpainted and not yet mended. Uemon did not have enough time to properly fix it. "Flee, you fools." He thought, commanded the snack to crack its great tail upon the ground, trembling the earth in its immediate area. "Now is not the time for bravery." With Yamata distracting the crowd, it was now up to Utsuwa to make their move. The ruse, like any other, could not possibly last forever.

Sooner or later, one was bound to check the pyre. He flicked a finger, causing the beast to coil. "Hurry, Utsuwa."

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

A burst of smoke and the evocation of an unholy creation spread a ripple of panic and confusion through the crowd. Some scattered, some took up improvised arms to protect their homes, and still others froze. The older man accosting Utsuwa was distracted for a moment, but Utsuwa dared not even risk break a commandment.

"Blessings of Jashin-sama 'pon thee," Their god proclaimed, Utsuwa then darted forward, slipping through gaps in the crowd. Their bare feet cut across stone and earth, ignoring the panic. The plan was going well, but fortune was an unreliable refuge.

"Hey! Stop that one! It's another cultist!" The man before pointed a d yelled, trying to get the attention of the agitated crowd. For a small mercy, Utsuwa was fleet of foot, and most were more concerned with the 'dragon.' But some had a special hatred for Jashin and his faithful that could overpower fear and panic.

Utsuwa's wrist was caught as they tried to slip through a gap, turning a head towards the furious man.
"O, Jashin-sama, pray grant these poor souls release!" Utsuwa called out, their clarion voice adding further to the panic and confusion, whilst turning more attention towards themselves. As did the scream of agony when Utsuwa drove a finger into the man's wrist, then twisted free of his grip. But they were still some distance from the pyre, and the crowd began to tighten around them.

The attention was still split, but, for all their skill and blessings, they would be fast subdued if ire continued to override fear.

Meanwhile, the woman who had advocated for execution earlier took one of the prepared torches, and began running towards the pyre. Her objective was clear: to ensure the pyre was lit, regardless of the chaos unfolding before her.

[Muramasa Uemon]

a mythic serpent appears

---

On the frog's screen, Uemon watched the next series of events fold in a blur of hasty movement.

Panicked fleeing of several villagers, the taking up of arms by others, and a curt blessing from Utsuwa followed by a quick dash away. "Oh..." A trailed thought, his eyes widening ever so slightly. "...gods damn it." There it was.

The almost-guaranteed hitch that seemed to arise in every plan. In the moments after, his mind raced, trying to think of some way to adapt. "My apologies, people of Akamori." He thought, then swished his hand back and forth in great, sweeping motions. The massive serpent attached to his threads heaved— then whipped its body to the side.

Smashing into the nearest house, sending large pieces of wood flying, and prompting several cries for help to rip through the air. Its sudden destruction was not meant to harm, but instead to draw even more attention to itself and dissuade any would be attackers from trying their luck. If they did, they would be flattened without difficulty.

Uemon only hoped that it would be enough. "The pyre!" He thought, catching a glimpse of the running woman through the chaos on screen. In and Yō were still too damaged to deploy, and while Date's tongue would be perfect for swiping the torch, he needed the frog's display to see. "Tsuki." Uemon winced as he raised his right hand, the electrical burn on his palm and fingers still causing him much discomfort. "You will have to do." Threads emerged...

Traveling out of the barn and along the ground to attach to the waiting rabbit. He bore the pain, conducting the critter with his still-stiff digits to zip through the village folk's feet. Around, stampeding sandals, between legs...

Making a beeline towards the running woman. Tsuki was small, but she was built to be swift, so she had little trouble catching up. Uemon flicked a finger, a hinge opening on the rabbit's stomach to deploy another smoke bomb. In the instant that followed, he overturned his hand, then bid her to leap up, directly at the woman's hand.

In an attempt to knock the torch loose by crashing into her wrist. Succeed or fail, the pellet would burst on contact with the ground, creating yet another cloud of obscuring smoke. Buying Utsuwa time, at the least. "Now!"

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Chaos was growing into pandemonium. Splinters of wood joined screams and yells of alarms, more villagers taking up pitchforks and tools to keep the apparent monster at bay. Whether or not they knew enough of ninjutsu to identify it as a puppet was irrelevant; it was a threat.

Meanwhile, Utsuwa took the opportunity to lash out, darting forward to drive a finger deep into a farmer's leg, piercing an artery with Shukufuku: Shitsuchi. He fell, crying out in pain, and holding his profusely bleeding leg. They continued forward, the display of violence and cry of their god's name only adding to the confusion. A sickle caught their leg, and a fist their shoulder. Neither slowed Utsuwa for more than a half step, and neither did the pitchfork thrust into their back as they ran.

The puff of smoke and cry of surprise won Utsuwa's attention as they worked their way towards the crucifix, forced into a defensive posture as they dodged grasping hands and pitchforks and other tools. They did not fear injury, but being grappled or skewered would spell doom for both of the disciples of Jashin.

They couldn't see what happened in the cloud of smoke, but the torch had been dropped.

Where the fire caught on spilled pitch.

The fire spread, igniting a trail of pitch and dead grass, tracing a line towards the pyre, and adding choking, black smoke and fire to the chaos.

"Let's burn these zealots together!" Four farmers, who had not rallied to fight the 'dragon' or fled, tried to hedge in Utsuwa's movements, to drive them unto the pyre.

Utsuwa obliged, retreating towards the pyre, the metaphorical fuse fast burning down to a conflagration.

[Muramasa Uemon]

pitch, straw, mobs, and fire

---

Try as he might to keep a grasp on the situation from a distance, there were simply too many variables.

Uemon never underestimated anyone if he could help it, but the villagers' tenacity in seeing to the burning of the Jashinist had proven a surprise even to him. "They would risk their lives for vengeance." He thought. "As would I."

In Tetsu no Kuni, the act of revenge was a sacred rite as old as the nation itself. Samurai and their code of Bushidō dressed it up— labeling it as 'righteousness' or part of their 'duty', but in essence, it was the same thing. Blood for blood, a life for a life, the Old Way. As the villagers steeled themselves and Yamata's display was only half-effective...

...the wanderer was forced into direct action. "I have no choice now." Quickly, he dispersed his threads, bringing his hands together to form a single Tora seal. A puff of smoke erupted nearby, and out of it a hand reached for a nearby tarp, to grab hold of as the figure darted away. "Quickly." Cloaking itself in the covering, an exact tangible duplicate of himself, made via the Kage Bunshin no Jutsu, dashed towards the fray. It made a Tora seal, then blurred. 

Closing the distance between it and the spreading fire with the Shunshin no Jutsu. Appearing in a haze of sudden movement, the fingers on the clone's right hand flexed, chakra threads materializing from their tips then wrapping around its entire forearm. The bunshin formed a fist, dashed towards the spreading fire, then swung downwards.

Impacting the ground just before the trail of flame, then shattering it outright with its Ito Sagyō-enhanced strength. In hopes of stopping the blaze entirely in its tracks. "Flee!" The clone growled, then threw itself shoulder-first towards the the villagers corralling Utsuwa to the pyre. It was bound to catch a scythe or pitchfork in the process...

Only to dissipate in another burst of smoke upon the first solid strike. Back in the barn, the real Uemon reattached his threads to the serpent and commanded it to slither through the crowd, towards the brawl. If this did not work...

Few choices would remain to him besides outright violence. "Contingencies." He willed himself to hurry. "Think."

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

The clone swung the tarp down, smothering spreading flames and confounding it's spread. While it could have been seen as an act of altruism, even when it bid the crowd flee a d bore into them to emphasize that point. But those that had remained and took up improvised weapons were the hardliners. The more reasonable and the more cowardly were already fleeing.
"More damn cultists!" The clone was, as predicted, cut through with a sickle, where it vanished in a puff of smoke. The mob recoiled in surprise, clearly not used to dealing with the ninja arts.

And not used to combating a Jashinist.

Taking advantage of that moment of surprise, Utsuwa fled, making a run for the pyre. A pair of farmers moved to pen them in. One thrust out a pitchfork in a clumsy, untrained thrust. Utsuwa worked their way around, pushing the fork aside with their palm as they made to move past it. And directly into the path of a man with a hatchet. The woodcutter's strike was more sure and more practiced, though it was likely the first time his axe had tasted flesh.

Utsuwa rushed into the strike, the head of the hatchet burying itself deep into their side. Utsuwa took a deep breath, then unleashed a rapid series of pokes and jabs, earning howls of agony from the woodcutter. He collapsed and curled up, nerves alight with agony.

No time to delight in the granted blessing, as Utsuwa was now at the foot of the pyre.

A makeshift club cast aside caught the remnants of the smothered blaze, and began to smoulder then burn. Coughing and spluttering from the smoke, the woman from before stumbled out of smoke, and her burning eyes saw the brand. She lunged for it, then acted immediately, making to throw the blazing timber onto the pyre.

Unless Uemon had some other trick up his sleeve, someone would burn today.

[Muramasa Uemon]

ends in a catastrophe

---

Sundering of the ground from the bunshin's punch, a sickle's bite causing it to dissipate, a tarp left behind in smoke.

In the flurry of movement that followed, he watched the events play out on Date's screen, eyes widening slightly as he hurried to improvise a  plan. "Such stubbornness." He thought, half-impressed by the village folk's determination.

The same woman whom Tsuki had intercepted stumbled forth from the smoke, reaching for a burning club in an attempt to finish lighting the pyre. "No choice." Uemon told himself, winding back his hand. The chakra threads attached to Yamata tensed. "Sōzōjōhigi—" Mentally reciting the word, the great serpent lurched. "Hachi Sakaoke."

Snaking its way through the crowd, to coil its massive body in a defensive posture around both the pyre and Utsuwa with the Sōzōjōhigi: Hachi Sakaoke. A rain of attacks fell upon the beast as it moved— but every farming implement that struck either glanced off of or caught on its armored scales. Yamata would shield the small priest and their brother, the flaming club deflecting away from its thick frame. But this could only possibly last for a short while...

Utsuwa needed to hurry so they could make their escape, otherwise they would all burn. To buy more time, two of the serpents heads lashed out at any nearby villagers, seeking to swat them aside as gently as they were able, hissing all the while. Baring its large curved fangs at any who stood near, doing its best to appear menacing and ready to kill.

Amidst the chaos, one of the villagers, a small boy, caught a glint of the puppeteer's threads and began to follow them back to their source. Towards the barn where Uemon was still hiding, conducting the giant snake from afar.

Completely unbeknownst to him for the moment. He flicked a finger, causing a compartment on the top of Yamata's main head to open that looked big enough for Utsuwa and his brother to enter. "Climb in, Utsuwa."

Hopefully they would, so they could finally make their escape from the mayhem they had just caused.

---

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

The snake came to the apparent aid of the Jashinists, further galvanizing the will of those who remained to defend hearth and home, and to punish those who had taken family away from them. Stones and lumber were thrown at the thrashing serpent, pitchforks, hoes, and axes swung at its hardened scales. But they were still peasants, ill-equipped and ill-trained to deal with a shinobi, let alone a puppet of this magnitude.

Fear and caution was beginning to win out over righteous indignation.

The snake protecting them earned a cock of the head from Utsuwa. Strange that Uemon was protecting them so fiercely. The only reason why the fire was dangerous was that it would eventually turn the brain to ash - being set alight for a short while was hardly a threat to a Jashinist. Regardless, they reached the crucifx, and looked up at the battered body of their brother.

They abused priest looked down. A man well into the latter half of his life, his hair more salt than pepper, matted with his own blood.
"Kyodai..." He managed, identifying the medallion in an instant. "Are you in league with the shinobi?" Utsuwa extracted the hatchet from their side.
"An alliance of convenience, like to be dissolved ere long." Utsuwa climbed up the pyre, and used the head of the hatchet to cut through ropes, climbing up their brother's body to reach his arms first, then freeing his legs. Many bones were broken, and the Jashinist crashed onto the timber in a pile. "Fear not; 'twould appear that Jashin-sama hath use for thee yet, O brother mine."

The escape would be difficult. Utsuwa was small, and carrying the larger and heavier man would be a challenge. But... a compartment opened before them. Utsuwa hesitated. They misliked using this creation of blasphemy. Its very existence was an affront to the correct order of the universe, where all were cleansed of suffering in Jashin's embrace. But an imperfect world sometimes required imperfect solutions.

Without any gentleness or care, Utsuwa hefted up his brother, and shoved him into the open compartment. There was no injury that could worsen to the point of being life-threatening, and there was no pain to inflict. Utsuwa hestitated again, then clambered inside themselves.

They clasped their medallion, and began to mutter prayers to ward off the evil influence of the artificial snake.