Unlike Godai, Masamoto had a completely shaved head, though he maintained a small trimmed beard that encircled his mouth. To Jack, Masamoto appeared more monk than warrior.

Masamoto surveyed the scene before turning to retrieve his swords from the boat. He slipped them, along with their protective sayas, into the obi of his kimono. First the shorter wakizashi sword, followed by the longer katana. Taking his time, he walked up the beach towards the torii.

Furious at his opponent’s late and disrespectful arrival, Godai screamed insults as he approached.

Unperturbed, Masamoto maintained his stoic pace, even pausing to acknowledge his samurai. At last he came face to face with Godai and bowed ceremoniously. This infuriated Godai even more. Blinded with rage, he charged at Masamoto in an attempt to take him off-guard before the contest officially commenced.

Masamoto, however, was prepared for just such an offensive. He sidestepped Godai, the massive nodachi narrowly missing him. In a single motion, Masamoto unsheathed both his swords from their sayas, his right hand raising the katana to the sky and his left drawing the wakizashi across his chest to protect himself from any counter-attack.

Godai brought his nodachi round for a second assault, the sword arcing at lightning speed towards Masamoto’s head. Masamoto shifted his weight, angling his katana to deflect the strike off to the left. Their swords clashed and the nodachi scraped along the back of Masamoto’s blade.

Masamoto pressed forward under the crushing blow, cutting his wakizashi across the midriff of Godai. The sword sliced through Godai’s kimono, but failed to meet flesh. Godai spun away to prevent Masamoto extending his strike and drawing blood.

Masamoto pursued the retreating Godai into the sea, his two swords a furious blur, but he was immediately cut short by the returning nodachi and barely had time to leap beyond its reach.

Jack was astounded at the skill and agility of these two warriors. They fought with the grace of dancers, pirouetting in an exquisite yet deadly ritual. Each strike was executed with the utmost accuracy and commitment. Masamoto wielded his two swords as if they were natural extensions of his own arms. It was no wonder that his fellow crewmen had been slaughtered so effortlessly by the Japanese wako. They stood little chance against an enemy so proficient in such fighting arts.

Godai drove Masamoto back up the beach, his samurai cheering him on.

Despite its massive size, Godai was devastatingly adept with the nodachi, wielding it with ease as if it were no more than a shaft of bamboo. Godai continued to force Masamato backwards and into the throng of spectators, right where Jack was standing.

Godai bluffed a strike to the right then switched his attack and sliced at Masamoto’s exposed arm. Masamoto managed to avoid the strike, but Godai’s immense effort to connect drove his weighty sword onward into the crowd.

In panic, the villagers scattered, but Jack remained rooted to the spot, paralysed with fear at the man’s unwavering determination to kill.