This was no practice match, Jack realized with astonishment. This was a fight to the death.

Two of Masamoto’s samurai dragged the wounded villager away as the crowd surged forward, anxious not to miss the action, the amputated fingers trampled under a sea of feet.

Concerned at the sight of Jack’s ashen face, Akiko signed to Jack if he was all right.

‘I’m fine,’ replied Jack, forcing a smile, though in truth he was sickened to the pit of his stomach.

He swallowed down the bitter shock of what he had just witnessed. How could a people who invested their time in cultivating idyllic gardens and decorating kimonos with images of butterflies be so barbaric? It made no sense to Jack.

Jack turned his attention back to the combat in order to avoid Akiko’s anxious gaze. The two samurai had broken apart, breathing heavily from their exertions. They circled one another, waiting for the next move. Godai feigned an advance and the crowd surged backwards, desperate to avoid being caught up in the attack.

Masamoto, now familiar with Godai’s tactics, slipped to his blindside, parrying the nodachi with his short sword and countering with his katana. The katana scythed towards Godai’s head. Godai ducked and the katana sliced over the top of his head.

The two warriors spun round on one another and froze. The crowd held their breath. Then Godai’s topknot slipped from his head and fell limp on to the beach. Masamoto smirked at Godai’s public disgrace, and his phoenix samurai began chanting ‘Masamoto! Masamoto! Masamoto!’

Incensed at the humiliation of losing his topknot, Godai screamed a kiai and attacked. His nodachi struck downward and then, like an eagle climbing after swooping down on its prey, flicked upward at an angle that defeated Masamoto’s katana.

Masamoto, bending backwards to avoid the blow, brought his sword up to deflect the blade from his neck, but his katana was knocked out of his hand and the tip of the nodachi cut deep into his right shoulder. Masamoto grunted in pain, dropping backwards and rolling away in an attempt to distance himself from Godai. After several controlled rolls, he flipped himself back on to his feet.

It was now the turn of Godai’s samurai to cheer.

Godai was certain to win now Masamoto had forfeited his katana. The shorter wakizashi was no match for a mighty nodachi. Masamoto’s samurai realized their champion had little chance of overcoming such an advantage. For the first time in his life, Masamoto’s legendary handling of two swords had not withstood the onslaught of a nodachi.

Masamoto retreated down the beach, edging towards the fishing boat he had arrived in. Godai gloated, sensing victory was close at hand. He quickly manoeuvred himself between Masamoto and the wooden vessel, preventing his escape.