Outside the city, a lone figure walked across the sands. Akito, a wandering swordsman, approached the town, hoping to find work. As he neared the town, a group of bandits seemed to appear from the sands, surrounding him.
"Heh. Look here, boys. We got ourselves a traveler. You there, in the coat! Hand over all you got, and maybe we won't kill you!"
The man who was the apparent leader of the bandits yelled at Akito. Akito stood silent, showing no response to the man's statement.
"Hey! You hear me, you bastard?"
The leader yelled again. Akito looked up at last, then stared the man down.
"I hear you. I just feel no need to talk to vermin."
He said, subtly tightening his grip on his sword scabbard. The man spluttered for a moment, then roared.
"You makin fun of me?! You're dead!"
He yelled as he hand his men lunged forward, weapons ready. Akito barely flinched, and in a moment, he reacted. His scabbard turned the first few strikes, kncking his opponents aside, then he finally drew the blade. The finely-crafted katana gleamed in the desert sun, as Akito lunged and leapt between foes, cleanly slicing through them in a flash. He landed on the far side, near the entrance to the town, and flicked the blood clear of the Yamato, sheathing it as the raiders fell cloven behind him...