While the Samurais were mourning their stone-cold friend in the maze, the Kaiju were facing a different kind of nightmare. Kenji led his huffing, monstrous army toward the highest peaks of the Mist Mountains. According to the stolen half of the scroll, this was the resting place of the Wind Katana.
The Blind March
The fog was so thick it felt like cold soup. Kaijus were bumping into each other, accidentally clawing their neighbors, and falling off unseen ledges.
"I can't see my own claws!" one Kaiju whimpered. "How are we supposed to find a sword in this?"
"Diamond cuts diamond," Kenji hissed, his red eyes squinting into the white void. "We need to move the wind itself. Everyone, inhale! Now... EXHALE!"
The entire army began to blow as hard as they could. Within minutes, two Kaijus passed out from lack of oxygen, and a third was in serious condition, but the mist didn't move an inch.
"Using the front won't work," Kenji realized, a wicked idea forming in his mind. "We need to use the... back."
The Fatty Tomato Strategy
Kenji turned his gaze toward a particularly large, round Kaiju they nicknamed Fatty Tomato.
"You," Kenji pointed. "Yesterday's dinner was potato pakoda and radish chutney. I saw you eat three buckets of it. It's time to serve your King. Release your... Atomic Bomb."
"But sir," the fat Kaiju stammered, "my underarm is still itching—"
"I don't care about your underarm! Do it now, or I'll itch it with my teeth!"
The fatty Kaiju turned around, braced himself against a rock, and released a nuclear-level blast of gas. The force was so immense it didn't just clear the mist; it blew the clouds right off the mountain. The air was suddenly crystal clear—and incredibly smelly.
"That's my boy," Kenji choked out, holding his nose. He walked over to the dizzy Kaiju and, true to his word, used a jagged axe to cut off the creature's arm. "There. No arm, no underarm, no itching. Problem solved."
The Wind Katana
With the mist gone, the Wind Katana was revealed, floating in the center of a perpetual miniature cyclone. Kenji reached in, the wind tearing at his scales, and snatched the translucent green blade.
The Cloud Palace: The Thunder Katana
There was no time to rest. Using the Portal Bracelet, Kenji warped the survivors to the final location on his scroll: The Cloud Palace, a series of floating stepping stones high above the atmosphere. At the end of the path sat the Thunder Katana, sparking with raw electricity.
"Only twenty-two steps," a scout said, stepping forward eagerly. "Easy."
As soon as his left foot touched the first stone, a massive bolt of lightning descended from the heavens, turning the Kaiju into a pile of grey ash in less than a second.
"Oh," Kenji muttered, watching the ashes blow away. "It's like that human movie... a 'Glass Bridge' game. If you step on the wrong one, you die."
One by one, Kenji pushed his soldiers forward. It was a brutal game of trial and error. If a Kaiju survived a step, the army moved up. If they exploded into sparks, they tried the other stone. By the time Kenji reached the final platform, his army was half the size it had been that morning.
He gripped the Thunder Katana. The power surged through him, making his scales vibrate.
"We have three," Kenji roared, looking down toward the distant speck of Jurashi. "Water, Wind, and Thunder. Now... we go back to the Samurais to take the last two. And then... the King rises."