At the foot of the Galdrock Mountains—where warriors carve their names in blood—a lone traveler descends toward a small village. His name is Retsuki Amashiro, barely past his twentieth year, yet his eyes carry a stillness that makes older men step aside. He is a practitioner of the Spiral God Killing Fist, a style built on a peculiar doctrine: before battle, shed the gi. Bare skin reads the wind, senses killing intent, and drinks in the breath of heaven and earth. The body must be open to the w