There lived a warrior called Kouji who was very skilled with the sword. He carried a long sword at his belt that curved slightly like the crescent moon. He was quite proud of himself for his skills, often boasting he could cut down dozens of enemies at once.

This skill was put to the test one winter's night as he made his way home. Since he lived in a quieter part of the city there was no one else around. Kouji knew that the night held many dangers, so he was on guard, walking carefully with a hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

As he crossed one street he suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in terror. Immediately, he drew his sword and sliced the space behind him. Something chilling appeared before him and he sliced through that, too. There were deafening cracking sounds that followed, perhaps the sound of bones breaking?

But despite Kouji's quick reactions he soon found himself surrounded. In the dark he couldn't see well, but he could feel his attackers' bloodlust. His sword  parallel to his face, he lunged, swiftly cutting down anyone who dared stand in his way.

When he cut the last offender Kouji paused a moment to check his surroundings. Once he confirmed he was alone again he sheathed his sword and walked on home.

In the morning when the warrior woke he heard several voices from outside. He quickly put on his coat and went to see what was the matter. 

He was shocked to see that on the street he'd passed the night before a crowd had gathered. Pushing to the front, Kouji found himself staring down at several large icicles laying in the freshly fallen snow, each of them severed cleanly down the middle.