A light breeze blew across the dying field, wafting the smell of corpses and fire across the village. Takayasu frowned and placed a hand over his nose. The stench was overpowering. The stink had not been unexpected or altogether new. They had warned him once what the duty would entail. Still, the odor was nearly enough to knock him off his feet. Takayasu gritted his teeth and readied his resolve. He knew he would have to enter the town square, where the Scorpion samurai were gathering, but knowing it was one thing. Steeling his senses and weathering the reek was another. He screamed.