[Dream’s Perspective]

  < Analysis: Environment unfavorable. Opponent utilizing vertical terrain with 90% efficiency. >

  404 was right. The cave was his world, and my trap.

  The Kappa, Inka, fought in a style I had never seen. He didn't stand on the ground; instead, he clung to the walls and the damp ceiling, leaping with a terrifying, rubbery agility. His twin swords gleamed in the darkness like the fangs of a hungry beast. He was stinging... striking and retreating before the long blade of Shakujo could reach him.

  The length of my sword, which was an advantage in the open, became a curse in this cramped space, clashing against the walls and hindering my movement. I need space. I need sky.

  I looked at the head lying beside me. Distraction.

  I grabbed the old man's head by its blood-matted hair and, with a sudden, savage motion, threw it directly at Inka's face. The Kappa froze for a fraction of a second; his instinct drove him to catch his friend's head before it slammed into the stone wall.

  You bastard! he screamed, his voice thick with grief.

  That second was enough. I shot out like a rocket toward the exit, leaving the suffocating cave behind.

  The air here was different—cold and pure. The trees were towering, their leaves not only reflecting the moonlight but glowing with a hallucinogenic blue light of their own, creating long, shifting shadows that deceived the eye. I stood before the cave entrance, my chest heaving, waiting for him.

  Inka emerged. He walked slowly this time, carrying the old man's head with a strange tenderness, and placed it gently on a rock covered in blue moss. He wiped the blood from his green face with the back of his hand and looked at me with eyes burning with a lethal coldness—eyes that saw nothing but their target.

  Brother... he said, addressing the severed head in a trembling voice. You must witness the end of your killer.

  I smiled mockingly, trying to provoke him: Brother? Does a brother send a killer to his brother before he dies?

  Inka gave a sad smile that revealed his sharp teeth—the smile of one who knows the hidden truths: What is the shame in trying to live? He made the right choice. His only mistake was being late in telling you... and doubting that I wouldn't be able to kill you.

  He raised his hand that didn't hold a sword and pointed a clawed finger at me: Oni... remember the name that will kill you. I am the Kappa, Inka.

  He attacked.

  The rhythm of the battle changed. No more random leaps. He began using the trees of the Blue Forest as launching platforms. He jumped from one trunk to another with a speed that made him look like a green blur amidst the blueness.

  I began using Water Magic... pressurized bullets mixed with sharp winds to disrupt his balance in the air. But he was fast... and reckless. Every move was on the edge; a single mistake meant death, but he didn't miss.

  Suddenly, the ground split beneath me. An earth wall of my making rose to intercept him. But he didn't crash into it. He used it as a pivot, pushing off with his foot and pouncing on me like an arrow. He hit me in the shoulder. A deep wound, and gray blood splattered onto the blue leaves.

  I tried to slash him, but he vanished... only to reappear from behind another tree, faster and stronger. Ching! Ching! The sounds of the swords echoed through the forest like the tolling of death bells. I was in a state of defense. Shakujo parried the strikes with difficulty. My leg... my hand... my shoulder... the wounds were piling up.

  I won't give him a chance. I sent a sudden wave of fire at the tree he was preparing to jump from. The tree ignited, and his balance faltered for a second. His momentum stopped.

  I attacked. I closed in, raising my sword to finish him. But he leaped... not away, but onto my sword. He placed his foot on the blade of Shakujo itself and launched himself at me to take my head.

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  At that moment, I fired ice bullets directly into his face. They hit. A superficial wound on his face, but it forced him to recoil backward.

  Inka landed on a distant tree branch. The fighting ceased for a moment. A strange silence fell—the silence before the storm. He looked at the Blue Forest and the blood staining it with the gaze of a sad poet bidding the world farewell.

  Then he spoke in a resonant voice, echoing through the trees: An ancient pond... A frog jumps in... The sound of water...

  Suddenly, his sword glowed with a strange blue flame—a flame both cold and searing, coiling around the blade like a serpent. And a blue flame coils around the Oni's neck.

  Is he reciting poetry now? I smiled, and the shiver of madness coursed through my body. I’ll show you, you bastard... do you think you’re the only one who can do it?

  I replied with savage mockery, my voice rising above the rustle of the trees: A pool of blood... A frog does not jump... The sound of thunder...

  Sparks began to fly from my body. I felt the hair on my head stand up, and the air around me became saturated with static electricity. And lightning coils around the Kappa's neck.

  404 screamed in my mind with a red alert: < Neural pressure will exceed limits! >

  I ignored him. My nose began to bleed profusely, warm blood running down my lips. I felt my brain boiling, as if an acidic liquid were being poured inside my skull. A strong metallic taste filled my mouth... the taste of electricity.

  The electric current flowed from my hand and coiled around the black blade of Shakujo, turning it into a handheld lightning bolt that emitted a terrifying hiss. That burning in my heart... it won't be extinguished until his death.

  The swords collided. Lightning against blue flame. Each clash was a small explosion, illuminating the forest with blinding flashes. The electricity shocked Inka, making his muscles convulse, and his blue flame scorched my stone skin, leaving it charred. The smell of burnt flesh and ozone filled the place.

  It wasn't a tactical battle. It was a battle of wills. Parry... strike... speed...

  He was still leaping like a madman, but I didn't let him get away. I chased him, pursued him like a nightmare. Blood poured from my nose, from my ears, from my eyes. My brain screamed at me to stop, as if someone were hammering it from the inside.

  404 said: < Critical Warning: Neural collapse imminent. Survival probability dropped to 10%. >

  I screamed at him internally: Shut up, you bastard! You don't know the pleasure of the fight! You don't know how much I want to win! You will never understand!

  Inka launched one last attack, targeting my heart with his blue flame—a suicidal leap. I let out a final scream and gathered every remaining bit of Echo of Creation in my body. I didn't direct it at my sword. I directed it at the sky.

  Descend!

  The sounds of the forest stopped completely for a fraction of a second. A terrifying silence. Inka didn't expect the attack to come from above. The forest canopy split. A natural lightning bolt, summoned by my energy, descended like a divine judgment. A pillar of blinding white light.

  In that moment, under the brilliant lightning, I saw a smile on Inka's face... a strange smile of satisfaction I didn't understand.

  CRAAAAACK!

  The lightning struck him. His body turned into a charred mass and fell to the ground. My brain exploded with pain. Blood clouded my vision. I walked toward him, staggering like a drunkard, smoke rising from both our bodies.

  I looked at him. He had his eyes closed... and he was smiling. He was dead. Dead in peace? Smiling? The anger ignited inside me again—the anger of a child deprived of his toy.

  No... no... I began kicking him. I kicked the charred corpse with all the strength I had left. You bastard! Get up! I wanted to hit you more! Get up and scream! Don't smile! Why does everyone smile when I kill them?! Why?!

  Then... my strength gave out. I fell to the ground beside him. I lost consciousness, tears and blood covering my face, as the scent of the coming rain filled my nose.

  [Narrator’s Perspective]

  Not far away, on a high tree branch overlooking the smoldering, still-smoking battlefield, Morito sat, swinging his leg in the air and drinking sake coldly. He wiped his mouth and looked at the two bodies lying below: the unconscious victor and the smiling dead.

  Morito tilted the sake jar slightly and poured a thin stream of liquid onto the ground, an offering to Inka's soul. Drink, my old friend... you fought well.

  Then, as if time were turning back, the voice of the narrator begins to speak—an echo of an old tale...

  35 years ago... The lands of the Imagawa clan—East of Edo. Here began the story of a small Kappa.

  We see a group of armed men surrounding a small-statured Kappa, bound with ropes, snarling and biting the air, his eyes gleaming with the fear of a cornered beast. They were inside a large but dilapidated house, bearing signs of noble poverty.

  One of the men knelt and said in disgust: Lord Matsudaira Hirotada... we have captured the Kappa that was killing the shepherds.

  At that moment, the little Kappa, Inka, raised his eyes. He looked at the face of the man sitting before him.

  Matsudaira Hirotada.

  The first thought that crossed the small monster's mind was: He is kind. Despite knowing that humans kill monsters, the face of this man and that sad, warm smile indicated something other than killing.

  Matsudaira smiled, lowered himself to the Kappa's level, and said in a calm voice: He has the soul of a warrior in his eyes. Unbind him.

  The men were shocked. My Lord?!

  This Kappa... will become a Samurai who protects our small village. Isn't that right, little one?

  And from that moment, Inka the Samurai was born.