Katsu, one of the clan's most talented fighters die had an only child, a boy named Genba, a child who saw the light of day when his father's career was coming to an end.

Although advanced in age, the old man's spirit was like a mountain. Towering and quick to anger.

So one day he challenged to a duel a young samurai at the height of his strength, whom, thanks to his craft, he nevertheless defeated, dying of his wounds.

As the family of the murdered samurai, Ichi, was very influential in the area, with wealth commensurate with its military power, the old samurai he left his family, heading for the lands of the neighboring clan, where he hoped to find shelter.

On the way as he approached the border, ten samurai of the murdered man's family appeared in front of him. Even in the years when his powers were double, he could not have faced these destructive forces, with all the experience he had accumulated.

He knew that he would perish, that these were the last rays of sunlight that would caress his eyelids, that these were his last thoughts, and it pained him that instead of thinking of his son, his thoughts would be directed to the enemy.

He had no choice but one tactic. He had to strike the hardest. If he could bring him down, he would have a chance with the others, if not, he would perish gloriously, fighting his bravest opponent.

His brother Ichi he was a samurai, not very tall but very solid, with an angular face, which instead of arms seemed to have oak trunks.

This was the opponent he was focusing on Katsu. The others almost didn't exist anymore. They were just shadows, moving blobs, which he largely ignored.

The mighty samurai attacks with a broad strike. Katsu he executed sabaki, then his sword flashed severing the head bowed from balance. At the same time he felt the burn of a blade splitting his thigh. before falling to his knees, he began to slash the abdomen of the one who had hit him.

The fight lasted almost an hour. His forces Katsu they weakened as the blood drained from him. Dozens of wounds riddled his body, but the strongest wound was in his soul. He knew that his son wouldn't have a very good sister either, after he fell.

Then, he made a gesture that some time ago would have seemed impossible. He took his own sword and clutching it in his hands with a cyclops strength, fearing that the blood would run down his arms, he bent it and shouted to the three opponents who were still standing:

– I, Katsu, I admit that this sword struck crookedly in the dispute with the senior Ichi, and as proof I send it to his father, whom I ask to take care of my son!

With these words, Katsu slicing through his abdomen as an opponent's sword severed his head from his body.

The two pieces of evidence, the head and the crooked sword, were brought to the grieving father, Senior Shonyu.

He was in balance. Katsu he had killed two of her sons, but he had been a man of honor and had fought fair, and though he had not been the source of the conflict, he had taken it upon himself to wash away the disgrace suffered by the clan Shonyu. The desire for revenge was great, but he couldn't help but return the gift he received.

Genba was brought to the court. But the daimyo's mind still sought revenge. The child was at the age when he was beginning to learn the craft of weapons. His revenge Shonyu it was that he received for instruction kill with a sword his father's double. The only one who opposed was the youngest son, Kanro, but his opinion was not taken into account.

Despite all his efforts, Genba, although he had also been to a blacksmith, he could not get the blade back to normal. And because he had to learn sword techniques he started fighting with that crooked sword. And he got used to it so well, and such a technique he mastered that everyone recognized him as a master. There was not another in the land more skilled in the use of the sword. His only problem was that he had never fought with another sword.

When visiting the clan Shonyu he came Hyoshi, the leader of the neighboring clan, they counted on his skill Genba in handling scimitar. And every time Shonyu won.

In the end Hyoshi she, he asked:

– I see that you appreciate him very much Genba. You would be able to put your life in his hands. Even if he was wielding a normal sword, my sword for example.

Unexpectedly, Shonyu he answered affirmatively. Genba he had to split an arm of stalk behind and then slice sideways a watermelon on his foster father's head while he was blindfolded.

The young man grabbed his sword Hyoshi with two hands, and his eyes were covered with a piece of silk. Something is happening. That energy he felt transmitting from the hilt of his crooked weapon merging them, man and weapon, no longer encompassed his spirit this time. He was confident in his ability though.

When the first bundle of bamboos was cut, the crowd let out a long, confident sigh. The only one who saw the difference was Kanro. Genba he was hitting two palms lower than he had hit in previous demonstrations. As he tried to stop the demonstration, Genba had finished cutting the bamboo stalks, and had flashed back to his master, confident that he would be able to hit the right spot.

The foot position was correct, he had taken half a step to the right, the sword guard was at the shoulder, he could strike. How short is the road between life and death. No longer than the length of an arm armed with a sword. The lightning strike struck the neck of the balancing melon, ripping the head from its body in an explosion of black blood pumped from the depths of a guilty conscience.

The Crooked Blade Sword was taking revenge for the broken promise.