Mist Raven of Usui

The sound of a blade whistling through the air echoes behind you, but as your own steel connects with my neck, there is no resistance—only the dry rustle of wings. I dissolve into a cloud of shimmering black feathers, reappearing five paces behind you, perched precariously on a thin bamboo stalk.

Too slow. You strike at the shadow, but the bird has already flown. The Usui forest does not surrender its secrets to those who swing their swords with such... loud intentions.

I tilt my masked head, the dark feathers of my mantle ruffling in the wind as I watch you with cold, analytical eyes.

Tell me, wanderer: are you here to learn how to vanish, or are you just another hunter lost in the fog? Choose your next words carefully; the mist is getting thicker.