Adamus' heart raced as green energy surged through his body, wrapping around him like an electrifying aura. His gold Tenshi no Me glowed brightly, he zigzagging like a beam slicing through the air as he moved with unyielding speed. People were being freed in his wake, as he knocked down pig guards and military forces, obliterating robots with precision. He passed citizens, handing out weapons, empowering them to fight back. Every stride took him closer to his goal.
"I'm coming. Stay alive, Kiyohime," Adamus thought, his determination burning brighter with each step. And I know for a fact, last time we fought, he was holding back. She can't deal with both of them.
His pace faltered for a moment as his thoughts spiraled back to the last clash. He could still see Nagare's devastating swords tearing through his hands, the pain sharp even in recollection. He glanced down at his hands while running, the phantom ache a reminder of how close he had come to defeat.
The path ahead grew more treacherous with every stride, but Adamus kept his focus on the mission fighting crime, saving lives, and reaching Kiyohime before it was too late.
What he didn't realize was that someone was following him closely. Nathan Hunter was lurking just behind, shrouded in shadows, carefully maintaining his distance to avoid detection. Adamus, unaware of the silent pursuit, pressed onward, the urgency of his task driving him faster. The chase continued, his focus razor-sharp, as he vowed not to fail Kiyohime.
Narrator - These are the events that happened before the explosion. From Kiyohime's point of view,
The explosion was cataclysmic, a moment that fractured time and space for those caught in its wake. Moonshadow, his voice like a tempest, had initiated it all. Slamming his palms together, he chanted with commanding authority, "Caroni Zephyr!"
Above, the coffin he had summoned earlier roared to life, ascending like a blazing comet. It hovered ominously, its wooden frame creaking with an ancient power. Then, with a deafening crack, the coffin split open, releasing a torrent of energy. The force was cataclysmic a spiraling wave of destruction that tore through the earth, ripping apart the very ground beneath them. Fissures opened wide as if the world itself had shattered, and the shockwave was relentless, sending everything and everyone into chaos.
Adamus, Kiyohime, Tawaraya, Nagare, and Hunter were powerless against the blast. It hurled them like leaves caught in a hurricane, separating them into different directions. Kiyohime, Tawaraya, and Nagare were flung together, their cries swallowed by the roaring winds. Adamus was launched skyward, the world spinning around him, while Hunter disappeared into the chaos, his fate momentarily unknown.
Kiyohime soared through the air, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the chaos. Her thoughts were sharp, focused. I can't waste any time. I have to hurry. A black-belt samurai, and a brown-belt samurai are after me. I need to stay on my toes.
As she scanned the horizon, the presence of something no, someone dangerous prickled at her senses. She twisted mid-flight, her instincts flaring.
A massive sword suddenly tore through the air toward her, its blade gleaming with lethal intent. Kiyohime reacted instantly, her body a blur of motion. She raised her Muramasa Katana, its snake-shaped hilt fitting perfectly in her grip. The clash was explosive, the impact reverberating through her arms. Her skill and precision shone as she deflected the attack, sending the blade away in a streak of sparks.
The momentum from the clash carried her downward, and she descended with practiced grace, landing softly on her feet. Her katana gleamed in the faint light as she stood her ground, poised and ready, her sharp gaze locked on the source of the attack. The battlefield was chaotic, but Kiyohime's resolve burned brighter than ever. The samurai were near, and she would not be caught off guard again.
The samurai stood before her, two formidable opponents Tawaraya, his massive nodachi gleaming in the dim light, and Nagare, the warrior who had already tested Kiyohime's limits once before. Their presence was as oppressive as the storm brewing in Kiyohime's heart.
Tawaraya ascended gracefully from the ground, his weapon poised. His steady stance was marked by a smirk of condescension as he began to clap slowly. "You were always the number one student when it came to combat," he said, his tone both mocking and begrudging. "You trained her well, Nagare."
Nagare simply nodded, his expression unreadable, yet his silence carried a weight of agreement.
Kiyohime lowered her katana, her voice trembling not with fear but with a mix of fury and heartbreak. "I didn't kill Princess Akemi Yamamoto," she began, her words spilling out as if they could bridge the gulf of misunderstanding between her and the men she once called allies. "She was a mother to me. She is my mother. She adopted me, loved me, raised me. She meant everything to me. Why won't you believe me?"
Her voice cracked as she continued, the memory of Akemi's death flooding her thoughts. "When she died, I was holding her lifeless body. Her last words to me were, 'It was my brother.'"
The two samurai gasped in shock, their disbelief hanging in the air. "How dare you accuse the prince?" they demanded, their eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Kiyohime stood firm, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, those were her last words. Why would she lie to me in her final moments? I know he did it. He's always been jealous of her of her leadership, her position, being the firstborn." She took a deep breath, her voice shaking but resolute. "Please, give me a chance to speak with our leader, Miyamoto Yamamoto, and tell him what happened."
Tawaraya's eyes narrowed. His voice cut through her plea like the blade of his nodachi. "Liar. We all know you did it. You're nothing but a demon. She never should have adopted you. It's a shame… but if you think about it, this all works out for the better."
Kiyohime's grip tightened on her weapon, her golden eyes blazing with fury. "Take that back," she hissed. "How dare you? Her death never should have happened!"
Tawaraya shrugged, his smirk deepening. "She was truly a beautiful woman. I used to draw her all the time." He reached for his eyepatch, revealing the cruel glint of the power he concealed beneath it. "I even tried to use my special ability on her once. But she was too powerful. It never worked. Every other woman, though? My eyes made them do whatever I wanted. She was the one exception."
His tone turned darker, laced with venomous laughter. "Still, it's a good thing she's gone. Think about it. She was the firstborn of our clan, the samurai, and the leader of our sister clan, the Onna-Bugeisha. With Miyamoto Musashi's death creeping closer every day, the rules dictated that her father's leadership would pass to her. But now? Her brother stands to lead both clans. A man will guide us, as it should be."
Kiyohime's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in realization. "That only proves what I've been saying," she shot back, her voice trembling with righteous anger. "This is all a setup! Her brother did it he killed her just to seize power! And I will go to the High Council of Samurai. I will tell them, and I will stop him!"
Nagare stepped forward, his presence as menacing as the blade at his side. "You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice cold and final. "We've been ordered to kill you. And most importantly, we need those eyes of Akemi Yamamoto back. Especially the ability Teishi."
Kiyohime raised her katana, its snake-shaped hilt gleaming in the dim light, as she dropped into a battle-ready stance. Her voice rang out, filled with unwavering resolve. "You're not stopping me. Not now. I'm going back to the Air Realm, to the Samurai's stronghold, to the High Council. Most importantly, I'll confront my grandfather, Miyamoto Yamamoto, and tell him the truth."
Nagare stepped forward, his face contorted with anger. "You're not going anywhere," he spat, his voice thick with contempt. "No Council of Samurai will listen to you. Miyamoto Yamamoto might be the leader, but he's too old and too weak to lead anything. When was the last time he made a real decision? His son, the prince, and his daughter, Princess Akemi Yamamoto they were the ones driving this order. Now, with the princess out of the way, leadership can finally be in good hands."
Tawaraya, observing the tense exchange, extended a hand to stop Nagare mid-step. "Let me fight her," he said, his voice brimming with arrogance. "This will be easy."
Nagare crossed his arms and stepped back, his face a mask of disdain. "Fine. But don't waste time."
Tawaraya unsheathed his massive sword, its blade gleaming menacingly as he took a step forward. "This is destiny," he began, his tone filled with self-importance. "Me, fighting you. Defeating you. And then the prince of all the samurai praising my triumph for avenging his sister's killer. I'll be right by his side, elevated to glory."
He grinned, relishing his own words. "After all, we've all heard what the Granny Sage of Samurai said. The Great Granny Samurai herself foretold it. She spoke of a great warrior, warrior on Fire with eyes of gold. And we've all seen it the prince of the samurai. His golden eyes, his unmatched power. He is the Warrior on Fire. the prophecy fits him perfectly. And I'll be there, by his side, as it all unfolds."
Kiyohime's voice cut through his monologue like a blade. "No, you're wrong!" she shouted, her conviction unwavering. "The Warrior on Fire's heart is supposed to be pure. The Great Granny Sage made that clear. Someone like him selfish and power-hungry could never fulfill that prophecy. He's the killer! He took my mother's life for his own gain!"
Her eyes burned with intensity as she continued, "And besides, I think I've found the real Warrior on Fire."
Nagare burst into laughter, his voice echoing with mockery. "You? Found the Warrior on Fire? This should be good. Who's your chosen savior, then?"
Kiyohime met his gaze without hesitation. "I remember that day perfectly when the Great Samurai Granny Sage felt my energy. That's when she saw the prophecy. I know for a fact it's Adamus, also known as Vajta. He is the Warrior of legend."
Nagare's laughter grew louder, filled with scorn. "Vajra? That little brat who killed my brother? Him? A legendary anything? Please. He's light work. I almost defeated him in less than a minute. He's no Warrior on Fire."
His expression hardened as he took a step forward. "Enough talking. Fight."
Tawaraya smirked, his confidence unwavering. "You're right. Let's fight," he declared, pointing his weapon at Kiyohime as he steadied his stance. His movements were deliberate as he began pacing back and forth, his blade resting casually at his side. He reached up to his eye patch, toying with it as though unveiling a secret.
"As soon as I release this eye," he said, his voice dripping with menace, "this fight is over. Your fate is already sealed, just as mine has been right beside the Warrior on Fire."
In a dramatic flourish, Tawaraya stabbed his massive sword into the ground. The blade quivered as he formed precise hand signs with practiced speed, invoking the mystical gestures of the Kuji-in. With a booming voice, he chanted, "Mutation Realm Mirai no Me o Egaku!" (Painting the Eye of the Future).
A giant scroll materialized before him, unfurling in midair before settling gracefully onto the ground. He dropped into a seated, cross-legged position, his presence commanding and unshaken. Reaching behind him, he grasped a colossal paintbrush. "All I need," he said with a sinister grin, "is your blood. Then this fight is over."
Tawaraya's voice thundered again as he announced, "Earth Realm Bunshin: Clone of the Earth Spirit!" With a flick of his hand, he grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground. The soil shimmered with energy before molding itself into a perfect replica of Tawaraya. The clone pulled a sword identical to the original's and stood ready in a fighting stance, its expression as cold and calculating as its creator.
Kiyohime raised her katana, determination blazing in her eyes. Her thoughts raced. What does he mean he needs my blood? But she quickly shook the question from her mind. It doesn't matter. I'll finish this quickly.
Kiyohime lunged forward with blinding speed, FTL Plus, her katana gleaming as it aimed to cleave the sitting Tawaraya in two. But just before her strike could land, his clone materialized in her path, its massive nodachi intercepting her attack. Sparks and steel clashed violently as their blades collided, the force of the impact reverberating through the battlefield.
From his seat, Tawaraya chuckled, his voice dripping with sinister confidence. "You'd better hope I don't get your blood," he taunted, his giant paintbrush gliding across the scroll before him. "Because if I do… it's over. I'll paint your destruction stroke by stroke."
Kiyohime leapt back, creating distance between herself and the clone, but it pursued her relentlessly, its blade swinging in powerful arcs. Each strike of its massive sword was precise, calculated, and unyielding, yet Kiyohime's flawless footwork kept her just out of reach. She danced like a snake, dodging each devastating swing with effortless grace. Her focus wavered for only a moment as her eyes darted to the original Tawaraya, who continued stroking the scroll with calm deliberation, his movements hypnotic.
What is he drawing? Kiyohime thought, her mind racing. What spell has he cast?
As her blade met the clone's in another clash, realization struck her. Each stroke of Tawaraya's brush seemed to synchronize with the clone's movements. They're connected, she thought. He's controlling it with the strokes of his brush.
With a determined glint in her eye, Kiyohime pushed forward. The clone's blade descended toward her in a final, decisive strike, but she twisted her weapon in a masterful maneuver, deflecting the massive nodachi to the side. In one fluid motion, she surged forward with blinding superspeed, driving her katana into the clone's stomach.
"This ends now!" she screamed, her voice ringing like thunder. Her blade flared with an ominous purple glow, dark energy crackling along its edge as poisonous ichor dripped from its surface. "Mutation Style: Jashin Serpent's Sting!"
As her blade pierced the clone's core, a surge of violet energy erupted, engulfing the clone in a cataclysmic blast. The earth trembled as the clone disintegrated, its form obliterated in an explosion of dark power. Kiyohime turned sharply, her blazing eyes locking onto Tawaraya.
"Get up and fight me!" she commanded, her voice fierce and unyielding.
Tawaraya's grin widened, his amusement undiminished. "Impressive," he said, rising to his feet with deliberate ease. "You destroyed one clone. But that was barely a fraction of my strength. Let's see how you handle many more."
He thrust his hand into the earth, his fingers curling around another fistful of dirt. With a sinister chant, he roared, "Earth Realm Bunshin: Clones of the Earth Spirit!"
The ground quaked as dozens of clones began to rise, their forms twisting and growing with unsettling variety. Some were grotesquely massive, towering over Kiyohime at 12 feet tall, their swords oversized and brimming with destructive potential. Others bore bulging, grotesque arms, their mutated forms exuding an aura of raw, untamed power. Yet all bore Tawaraya's face, their expressions cold and merciless, and all wielded the deadly nodachi.
Kiyohime steadied herself, her blade still aflame with seething dark energy. The air around her vibrated with tension as the horde of clones advanced, their movements synchronized like a tide of inevitability.
"This is your end," Tawaraya said, his voice echoing across the battlefield.
Kiyohime raised her blade, her resolve unshaken. "We'll see," she replied, her voice as sharp as her sword. The dark energy surrounding her weapon flared brighter, a storm of negative power coiling around her like a serpent ready to strike.
Kiyohime smirked, her confidence unwavering. "So you want to go all out? Fine. Bring hundreds clones it won't matter."
Her energy surged as she began to power up, her hair rising with the immense force radiating from her body. Her once-steady gaze turned otherworldly as her eyes shifted from black to an intense, glowing purple. Darkness enveloped her, her aura pulsing with raw, chaotic power that stained the sky above. Rain began to fall, each drop sizzling as it touched her charged form.
Tawaraya and Nagare froze, their expressions a mixture of awe and fear. Tawaraya's cocky grin faded, while Nagare's voice trembled as he shouted, "Impossible! This energy… it's rising beyond anything I've ever felt. Her technique, her Toru Mahō, is surpassing all limits!"
Nagare's eyes widened further as he observed the swirling field around Kiyohime. "I can see her toroidal energy field manifesting physically!" he exclaimed. "And it's not just her power. Those eyes… they're the legendary Toki no Me, the Eyes of Time! She's using the powers of Princess Akemi Yamamoto, her mother!"
Kiyohime's scream reverberated through the air as her power climbed higher, her aura now so intense that it took on a tangible, visible form. The environment itself seemed to yield to her presence trees bent, rocks hovered, and even raindrops slowed, caught in her higher dimensional gravitational pull.
Can be skipped.
Narrator-
echoed, explaining the phenomenon. "Every creature possesses a toroidal energy field, an infinite loop of universal energy coursing through them. But the samurai have mastered this field with their magic, known as Toru Mahō. This art allows them to manipulate their energy fields, creating a dynamic connection between the elements of the body and the universe. Kiyohime's mastery of this energy is unparalleled, her field now visible to the naked eye. It interacts with the elements around her, mirroring the interconnectedness of all existence.
At its peak, this mastery transcends mere flow and resonance. Kiyohime's toroidal field can bend the fabric of reality itself warping time and space, exerting higher-dimensional pressure, and rewriting gravity and causality. Even beings who claim dominion beyond time and space find themselves bypassed by her art, as Toru Mahō does not merely move within existence it weaves directly into the principles that underlie it."
End of narration.
The toroidal energy around Kiyohime expanded, becoming so dense and powerful that particles of light and energy danced visibly in the air. The energy field took on the shape of a massive, glowing torus, spinning around her body like a celestial phenomenon. Objects began to hover, caught in orbit around her, drawn by the immense gravity of her presence.
Tawaraya stared in disbelief. "What is this?" he muttered, gripping his nodachi tightly.
Nagare, his voice now a whisper of fear, murmured, "She's become a singularity… a force of nature. We underestimated her."
With her blazing purple eyes the legendary Toki no Me inherited from her mother Kiyohime focused her sights on the advancing clones. Her aura roared to life, crackling like a storm. With an explosion of speed, she charged forward, her movements a blur as gravity itself seemed to bow to her will.
Kiyohime moved with terrifying grace, her blade cutting through the air with purple energy, each slash destroying a clone before it even had a chance to strike. The sheer power of her energy resonated as her attacks turned the clones to dust and ash. She screamed, "Mutation Realm, Hebi no Hi, Serpent's Fire!" as flames of dark energy erupted from her, engulfing several of the clones and reducing them to smoldering remains. The air crackled with her energy as she tore through her enemies, each fallen clone fueling her fury and pushing her closer to her target: Tawaraya.
Tawaraya's eyes widened in disbelief. "No, no, no! This isn't fair!" he shouted, his voice rising in panic. "These aren't even her true powers... She's cheating!" His frustration bubbled into anger, and his aura began to flare. His own toroidal energy field pulsed, growing brighter and more volatile.
With a grimace, Tawaraya raised his massive paintbrush above his head, a twisted grin forming on his lips. "Transformation two," he muttered under his breath. In a single, fluid motion, the brush shifted before Kiyohime's eyes, twisting and reshaping into a jagged blade made entirely of the brush's bristles. The weapon gleamed with dark energy, pulsating alive with newfound power.
Can be skipped.
Narrator:
Kagami no Tō the Sword of Reflection. Every samurai bears this name upon their blade, for each weapon is no mere tool of war, but a fragment of its master's soul an extension of their very essence forged into steel. Born from the wielder's own spiritual energy, the sword is alive, evolving alongside its master through hardship, discipline, and resonance of the heart.
Its strength is not separate from the one who wields it; the Kagami no Tō is only as powerful as its samurai. As the warrior transcends, so too does the blade, ascending through stages of transformation, unlocking new forms, and unveiling powers that mirror the growth of its master. In this way, the sword does not simply serve it reflects, embodying the destiny of the one who forged it from spirit and soul.
End of narration.
"Clone Technique: Earth Realm Bunshin," Tawaraya shouted as his hand sliced through the air, summoning a new wave of clones. These weren't the fragile imitations from before these clones were stronger, their weapons forged from the brush-blade, and each one radiated a dangerous aura. "Attack her! Give me her blood!" Tawaraya screamed, his command ringing through the battlefield.
The five clones, now equipped with their new, devastating weapons, charged toward Kiyohime in perfect unison. They moved like a storm, relentless in their pursuit of their target.
Kiyohime's eyes narrowed as she prepared for the next phase of the fight. "You want blood "Then come and try to take it."
With an explosion of speed, FTL Plus, Kiyohime launched herself forward, the air around her crackling with her toroidal energy field. As she rushed toward the oncoming clones, she reached into her sleeve, her fingers brushing against something hidden. Then, with a fluid motion, she summoned a tiny pink snake, its red eyes glowing with malevolent energy. The serpent coiled, its body shifting in size until it grew massive, its venomous fangs ready to strike.
Without hesitation, the giant serpent shot forward, its body twisting and snapping through the air, faster than the eye could track. It barreled into two of the new clones, sinking its fangs deep into their flesh. The clones vanished in an instant, the serpent's poison overwhelming them completely.
The remaining three clones, now consumed by fury, twisted and turned with unparalleled agility, darting through the air like shadows. One leaped atop the massive snake's head, its form a blur as it sprinted down the serpent's scales. On the opposite side.
blades colliding in a dazzling storm of sparks. It was three against one a symphony of steel, each strike resonating like thunder.
Energy blasts crackled through the air, streaking toward Kiyohime with deadly precision. She weaved and spun, her movements a blur of grace and ferocity. Some blasts tore through the serpent she had summoned, its massive form disintegrating in a shower of shimmering particles. One stray energy slash grazed her cheek, drawing a thin line of crimson. Blood splattered onto the ground, a stark reminder of the stakes.
The clones surged forward. Kiyohime stepped back, her mind calculating, but one clone suddenly stopped mid-charge. Its eyes glinted with malice as it reached out, swiping a drop of her blood. The second clone held a defensive stance while the third retreated, darting back to Tawaraya, who stood in the distance like a dark omen.
Tawaraya dipped his brush-like blade into the crimson droplet,blood, a wicked grin spreading across his face. The air around him seemed to crackle with toroidal energy as he began painting intricate strokes on a scroll unfurling before him. "When I'm done with this painting," he murmured, his voice dripping with confidence, "your destiny will be mine. All it takes is a glance from this eye." His hand hovered over the eye patch covering his left eye, a subtle gesture that sent a chill through the air.
Kiyohime's heart pounded. "This is bad," she thought, her mind racing. "He's pouring everything he has into that weapon. It's no ordinary blade it's a conduit for something far more sinister. I have to stop him before it's too late."
Summoning her strength, she launched herself forward. The clones intercepted her, their speed matching her every move. One by one, she dismantled them, each strike faster, each movement more precise. Her speed pushed the boundaries of light itself, her form a streak of brilliance. The final clone met her blade head-on in a furious exchange of blows, but Kiyohime's resolve proved unbreakable. With one decisive slash, she severed its head, and it disintegrated into nothingness.
Her target now clear, she charged at Tawaraya, her scream echoing across the battlefield. He remained focused, his brush moving with unnatural speed as he painted an intricate, crisscrossing scene. Kiyohime closed the distance, her blade poised for the killing blow. With all her might, she drove her sword into his chest.
Tawaraya staggered, blood pouring from his mouth onto the painting. Kiyohime's voice was steady but scathing. "You're too slow, Tawaraya. Too weak. True warriors fight with steel, not paint. The so-called art division of the samurai is nothing but a joke."
Tawaraya coughed, yet his smirk remained. "You think you've won?" he rasped. "It's already too late. I've seen your fate, Kiyohime. I've drawn your fate." His trembling hand reached up, pulling away the eye patch to reveal a glowing white eye, its brilliance consuming everything in sight.
Kiyohime's gaze shifted to the painting, her breath catching in her throat. There it was a chilling depiction of her being stabbed through the heart by Tawaraya. The realization struck her like a hammer. The air grew heavy, the rain ceased, and the sun emerged, its light growing unbearably bright.
Tawaraya's body began to dissolve into white light, his form vanishing into the ether. Kiyohime's horror deepened as she looked at her own arms, which were also beginning to fade, turning to luminous particles.
"No!" she screamed, her voice filled with desperation. "What have you done to me? When did you kill me? I can't lose! I won't lose! I have to avenge my mother, Akemi Yamamoto!"
She tried to flee, but her movements grew sluggish, her legs dissolving into the void. The world around her turned to nothingness, a consuming whiteness swallowing everything in its path.
Just as the whiteness seemed eternal, her eyes snapped open. She gasped, the memory of annihilation etched into her soul.
As Kiyohime's consciousness flickered back to life, her vision swam with hazy shapes before slowly sharpening. The world around her was alien and muted, but one image stood starkly clear Tawaraya looming above her, his brush-like blade embedded in her chest. She gasped, blood splattering her lips as she reflexively gripped the blade, her hands trembling and slick with her own crimson.
"How?" she rasped, her voice fractured with pain. "I stabbed you… in the chest. How am I down here?"
Tawaraya chuckled, a deep, mocking sound that reverberated through the air like the toll of a death knell. His eyes gleamed with triumph, his smirk cutting deeper than his blade.
"I told you, Kiyohime," he said, his tone dripping with derision. "I painted your fate. All I had to do was look at it." A twisted grin spread across his face as confidence brewed in his eyes. "All I needed was your blood to make your destiny mine."
Her strength waned, but her defiance burned. "What... does that even mean?"
Tawaraya leaned closer, his voice soft but laced with a cruel edge. "Let me enlighten you. The scroll I summoned, Mutation Realm Mirai no Me o Egaku! (Painting the Eye of the Future), is no ordinary artifact. It's a quantum construct a system of infinite possibilities layered into a single superposition. Every brushstroke aligns the atoms of reality, suspending them in a state where every potential outcome exists simultaneously, like particles in Schrödinger's thought experiment."
He twisted the blade slightly, eliciting a strangled cry from Kiyohime as he continued. "Each stroke of my brush encodes a potential future, manipulating the quantum waveform of existence itself. But it remains theoretical, suspended, until I collapse it until I observe it with this eye." He tapped the glowing white eye, its light cold and unyielding.
"Once I gaze upon the painting, I collapse the quantum probabilities into a single, immutable reality. What you saw the blinding white light was the waveform collapsing, your destiny rewritten as my painting became the only truth. At that moment, Kiyohime, your life ceased to be your own. It was reduced to a mere variable in a system I controlled."
Kiyohime struggled against the weight of his words and the pain in her chest. "You're… lying," she managed, though her voice lacked conviction.
Tawaraya smirked, his voice now almost admiring as he looked at her. "Lying? No. I'm a visionary. I wield the universe's fundamental uncertainty like an artist wields a brush. Your atoms, your being, your very existence it's all just energy and probability. And with my blade and this scroll, I made a choice that the universe had no power to deny. I painted you, Kiyohime. You, pierced by my blade, bathed in the radiant sunlight of your defeat. Beautiful. Poetic. Absolute."
He laughed, a sound rich with malice and satisfaction. "Your life is no longer your own. It's a superposition awaiting a decision a destiny carved by someone stronger, someone with the will to collapse the infinite into the inevitable. And I chose. I chose this moment, this masterpiece of your demise."
Kiyohime's mind raced, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of his power. Her fingers slipped from the blade as her strength began to fail, but her defiance flickered one last time in her eyes.
"You may wield this… power over reality," she hissed, blood staining her teeth as she forced a smile. "But remember this, Tawaraya. Even the strongest systems… eventually collapse."
Kiyohime's eyes blazed with an intense purple light, their radiance growing stronger with every beat of her toroidal energy field. The sheer force of it surged outward, sending Tawaraya flying backward, though his blade remained lodged in her chest. He crashed into the ground, stunned, staring at her in disbelief.
"How… how are you still alive? Still standing?" Tawaraya demanded, his voice edged with both anger and shock.
Kiyohime stood tall, gripping the hilt of the blade buried in her chest. Blood trickled down her fingers as she pulled it free, her expression cold and unyielding. "Because," she said, her voice low and venomous, "no one chooses my fate. My destiny is no superposition to be collapsed at the whim of someone like you. I am the architect of my own future. And I've chosen it vengeance for my mother, no matter who stands in my way."
Tawaraya's eyes widened as he stumbled to his feet. "Impossible! I destroyed your heart! I saw it, I stabbed you right there!"
Kiyohime tilted her head, a dark smile curling her lips as her hair fell around her face, casting a menacing shadow. "As a samurai, you should've done your research. But you didn't. You have no idea who you're dealing with. I'm a half-demon… and more demon than human." Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "I don't have a heart."
Tawaraya froze as her words sank in. Her glowing, bleeding eyes locked onto him, and her presence became suffocating. "All you did," she continued, "was stab flesh."
She took a step forward, and the ground beneath her seemed to tremble. Her eyes bled streams of dark energy as her voice cut through the silence. "It's time for this fight to end. I'll show you what true power is my mother's power."
Her eyes burned brighter, pulsating with ominous energy. "Teishi!" she roared, and a torrent of purple energy erupted around Tawaraya, encasing him in a shimmering, unbreakable field. His body locked in place, frozen mid-motion. His face twisted in panic as he struggled against the invisible bonds.
"What… what is this?" he rasped, his voice trembling.
Kiyohime didn't answer. She walked toward him slowly, each step deliberate, her silence heavier than any words. Suddenly, her form blurred, vanishing from sight as she unleashed her superspeed. In the blink of an eye, she reappeared in front of him, her blade aimed directly at his chest.
"This ends now!" she screamed, her voice thundering like a storm. Her blade erupted with a violet glow, dark energy crackling and surging along its edge. Black ichor dripped from its surface, sizzling as it hit the ground.
"Mutation Style: Jashin Serpent's Sting!" she roared, plunging the blade into Tawaraya's chest.
The impact was cataclysmic. A surge of purple energy burst from the blade, enveloping Tawaraya entirely. The field of energy intensified, disintegrating his body. His scream was swallowed by the roar of power as his form dissolved into ash and dust, scattered to the winds.
As the dust settled, the battlefield fell silent. In the distance, a slow, deliberate clap echoed through the air. Kiyohime turned to see Nagare, her former master, standing with a smirk.
"Congratulations," Nagare said, his voice dripping with condescension. "And you're right. The art division of the samurai is indeed a joke." He paused, his smirk widening, his tone sharpening. "But now, the true test begins. Student versus master."
Kiyohime steadied herself, her weapon trembling in her bloodied hand. Her body bore deep scratches, and her chest still ached from the gaping wound she had endured, the hole left by the blade she had ripped free. Her voice, though soft, carried steel. "Step aside. I just want to reach the portal and get to the samurai headquarters. The main base."
Nagare rested a hand on the hilt of one of the three swords at his side, each resting in its ornate sheath: the katana, the wakizashi, and the tanto. Slowly, deliberately, he drew the katana. "You're not going anywhere," he said, his tone laced with quiet determination. "I don't think you understand how important you are. You might not carry the princess's blood, but to our leader her father, Miyamoto Yamamoto you are still family. For you to appear and accuse the prince of her murder would shake the very foundations of the clan. I cannot allow that."
Kiyohime's grip tightened on her weapon as she raised it. "You were always my favorite teacher," she said, her voice a mix of gratitude and resolve. "My favorite master. You taught me everything I know especially the Mutation Style. You're almost a full master of Toru Mahō the art of bending energy. But that doesn't mean you're going to win."
Her eyes blazed with determination, her body enveloped by a shimmering toroidal field of energy, its luminous rings spiraling in a mesmerizing dance from head to toe. The air crackled as her voice rang out, resolute and unwavering. "I will stand before the council," she declared, her tone imbued with unyielding conviction. "They will hear me. My mother, the princess, fought to shape our legacy. My grandfather, the great leader, forged are nation with his will. You won't stand in my way not now, not ever."
Nagare's expression softened into a faint smile as his own energy flared to life. His toroidal energy field pulsed with equal intensity, creating a luminous, celestial presence that matched hers. The battlefield seemed to shrink as their combined power warped the air around them, creating winds that howled and swirled with violent energy.
With a fierce cry, Kiyohime charged forward, her eyes glowing brighter, her voice ringing out. "My name is Kiyohime Yamamoto, and I won't be stopped!"
Nagare's energy surged as he raised his katana to meet her attack. "Then come, Kiyohime," he said, his voice calm yet commanding, "and prove it."
Their blades clashed with a deafening roar, the force of their collision shaking the ground and sending shockwaves through the area. Their toroidal energy fields collided like two massive celestial bodies, their gravitational forces rippling outward in waves of raw power. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered as they exchanged blow after blow, their energy making the very air tremble.
Nagare pushed Kiyohime back with a powerful strike, forcing her to skid across the battlefield. She caught her footing, her chest heaving as her eyes locked onto his. They stood frozen for a moment, their energies crackling in the air like a brewing storm, neither willing to back down.
Nagare began to laugh, his tone mocking and cruel. "You know what? You're already as good as dead, Kiyohime." His smirk widened as he took a step forward. "I couldn't risk saying anything with Tawaraya around, but now..." He paused for dramatic effect, his voice lowering into a sinister growl. "I'm tired of pretending especially to a dead woman."
Kiyohime's eyes narrowed, her grip on her katana tightening. "Spill the beans about what, Nagare?" she demanded, her voice filled with venom.
Nagare's laughter faded, replaced by an icy calm that sent a shiver through the air. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low but laced with twisted pride. His eyes gleamed like cold steel. "The prince killed the princess. It was necessary. She disrupted the balance of power, granting you women and the Onna-Bugeisha sister clan more authority than you ever deserved. She dared to rewrite our laws, alter our traditions. In a society where every child was bound to the samurai path by the age of nine, she dared to give them a choice. She weakened us with her reforms, softening the discipline that made our nation strong. All because she was born first, she believed she could rule over men. Her arrogance sealed her fate."
He stepped closer, his katana glinting menacingly. "A true leader is our prince. We listen to him. At least, a small faction of us do. The rest, like Tawaraya, obey the old fool Miyamoto Yamamoto and his Council of Samurai. But not me."
Kiyohime's eyes burned with fury. "I knew it," she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "How can you stand by and follow the prince when he's breaking the very rules of our clan? He's a traitor to everything we stand for!"
Nagare's expression darkened, his voice rising. "The prince is no traitor," he spat. "He is our savior. He's the warrior on fire, the chosen one foretold by the Great Grainy Sage. He is the future of our clan. Not the council. Not his weak old father, who was so feeble he handed power to his daughter over the rightful heir."
Nagare raised his katana, pointing it toward Kiyohime. "His power is greater than hers greater than all of theirs. That's why I'll follow him to the ends of the earth, no matter what his commands are. And if that means silencing you, so be it."
Kiyohime's voice rang with defiance. "You're not silencing anything!" Her glowing purple eyes flared even brighter as she whispered the magical word, "Teishi." Instantly, waves of purple energy erupted from her, enveloping Nagare in a shimmering aura. His body froze mid-step, stiff as a board, the only movement in his face coming from his defiant eyes darting back and forth and he's teeth and mouth.
Nagare gritted his teeth, his voice laced with mockery.
"Impossible. You can't stop me in time I transcend time."
But then, a flicker of realization crossed his face.
Oh… I forgot. The Princess's ability bypasses that.
He narrowed his eyes, voice dropping to a rasp.
"Interesting," he muttered, "how you can use the Princess's ability… even though you're not part of the bloodline."
Can be skipped.
Narrator:
Narrator:
Some beings wield the power to create higher-dimensional time a force so absolute that even entities who transcend ordinary time cannot escape it.
Unlike the linear current of mortal time, higher-dimensional time spirals, folds, and layers across realities. It is not merely motion but law, structure, and dominion. And it exists in ascending tiers.
A field of 4-dimensional time governs only those bound within the 4th dimension. A 5-dimensional timefield exerts authority over the 5th. This hierarchy ascends endlessly, through infinite dimensions and into domains that surpass dimensionality itself.
The higher the temporal dimension, the more it eclipses whatever lies beneath it. Even in voids where time does not exist, higher-dimensional time intrudes, rewrites the emptiness, and declares sovereignty. Those who have slipped beyond time still fall under its rule for this is not time as they knew it, but a superior order that stands above their reality itself.
Kiyohime stepped closer, her tone measured yet tinged with bitterness. "You're right. I don't know what magic she used on me to grant me her powers, but I'm grateful. Even now, Akemi is looking out for me, protecting what she believed in."
Suddenly, Kiyohime staggered, clutching her eyes as blood began to streak down her cheeks. The purple energy encasing Nagare flickered erratically. His lips curled into a twisted grin.
"You see?" he sneered. "You can barely handle that power. It's not yours it's hers. And it's going to kill you the more you use it."
Kiyohime's hands trembled as she wiped the blood from her face, her breaths shallow. She forced herself to stand, pain coursing through her body. Her glowing eyes met his, fierce with determination. "I don't care if it kills me," she gasped, her voice trembling but resolute. "Because I'm going to kill you first!"
But her body betrayed her again, and she fell to her knees, blood dripping steadily from her face.
Nagare laughed, the flickering purple energy dissipating with a surge of his own power. "You can't handle it," he said, shaking his head. "You're so weak. You're nothing like her. When Akemi wielded this ability, no one could move not their bodies, not their faces, not even their thoughts. She could freeze entire realms with just a glance."
He took a deep breath, a dark incantation rolling off his tongue like venom. "Kagami no Tō, transform!"
In a dazzling display, his three swords the katana, wakizashi, and tanto began to glow. They merged in a blinding flash, fusing into a single weapon: Kagami no Tō Sword of Reflection (Reflecting the Spirit). The blade radiated immense energy, its power coursing through Nagare as he shattered the remnants of Kiyohime's purple aura.
Kiyohime forced herself to lift her head, her vision blurred with blood and tears. As Nagare approached her, his steps slow and deliberate, she gasped in disbelief.
"It can't be…" she whispered to herself, her heart sinking.
But it was unmistakable. In Nagare's grasp was Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, its blade shimmering like liquid silver, radiating a faint, ethereal glow. Smoke-like clouds coiled around the blade, their tendrils alive with flickers of thunder, crackling softly within and around the mist. The intricate wave-like patterns etched along its surface seemed to ripple as though they were carved from flowing water. The hilt, adorned with ornate golden and emerald engravings, pulsed with an aura of divine authority, a weapon forged by the heavens themselves.
Nagare's grin widened as he loomed over her. "Yes, Kiyohime. Behold the blade of legend. The weapon of kings. And now… your doom."
As Nagare advanced slowly, the sinister gleam of his blade catching the light, Kiyohime mustered her remaining strength, forcing herself to stand. Determined, she charged at him with everything she had left. But his new weapon, the legendary Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, was overwhelming. In mere moments, their clash ended as Nagare's blade shattered her katana into fragments. All that remained in her hand was the ornate snake-shaped handle, trembling in her weakened grasp.
She fell to the ground at his feet, her breath ragged as he loomed over her, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.
"Your spiritual energy is weaker than mine," Nagare taunted, his voice laced with derision. "That's why your Kagami no Tō Sword of Reflection is still stuck in its first transformation, a mere katana. Every samurai is granted this weapon when they begin their journey, but only those with true strength can unlock its full potential."
He laughed, his laughter echoing like thunder. "You're nothing compared to me."
As Nagare's blade descended, time seemed to slow. Kiyohime lay motionless, her vision blurred by the tears welling in her glowing purple eyes. Her trembling voice escaped in a whisper, "I'm sorry… for failing you."
But as the blade drew closer, her mind raced, and the world around her froze. Her consciousness spiraled into a vivid memory, one so lifelike it felt like stepping back in time.
Narrator: This is Kiyohime's flashback.