(Katsuo POV)
Waking up, I was greeted by a somewhat lovely sight. Dem had perched on my stomach, sprawled out in her sleep, her tiny limbs affectionately hugging me. It was a sight I deeply adored, though it brought a tinge of melancholy as I remembered Tom. Dem's fiery form curled up on me was cute, but it didn't quite match Tom's purring weight on my chest.
Kai was in the middle of what looked like a particularly energetic dream, occasionally hopping on his bed as if chasing some phantom carrot. "At least someone's having a fun adventure," I muttered with a chuckle.
And Jade... well, Jade was Jade. My three-foot boi, ever the stoic sentinel. Ironically, he was supposed to be my shield and protector, but I ended up doing most of the protecting. Not that I had the heart to tell him that. He looked so proud of his role.
I stretched carefully, not wanting to disturb Dem, who let out a soft, sleepy flicker of flames. "Morning, princess," I whispered, patting her gently. She snuggled closer, her tiny form warming my heart.
Feeling my stomach grumble, I accessed my interface—a godsend in this hellhole. I ordered a meal, a decent breakfast. Well, I was the only one eating, since my companions only needed my mana or just regenerated it naturally. "Lucky you guys," I muttered, eyeing Jade, who was inspecting the igloo's interior as if it were a top-tier fortress.
A piping hot bowl of ramen appeared before me. "Ah, ramen. The breakfast of champions," I said, digging in with gusto. Dem woke up, blinking sleepily at the sight of food. She floated over to sit by my side, her curiosity piqued.
Kai, now fully awake, bounced over, sniffing the air. "Sorry, buddy, no carrots in this one," I said, ruffling his fur. He pouted but then zipped off to do a perimeter check. His enthusiasm was infectious, even if his logic wasn't always spot on.
Jade finally settled by my side, looking at the bowl with what I imagined was stone-faced interest. "You know, Jade, you really should try this sometime. It's almost as good as mana," I joked, knowing full well he couldn't eat it.
As I slurped my noodles, I glanced around at my companions, feeling a deep sense of affection for them. Sure, we were a motley crew in a chaotic world, but we had each other. And as long as we stuck together, I knew we could face anything—even ancient evildoers with tentacle fetishes.
"Alright, team," I said, finishing the last of my ramen and standing up. "Time to get back out there and make some more bad guys regret their life choices." Dem flickered in agreement, Kai bounced with excitement, and Jade gave a determined nod.
We stepped out of our cozy igloo, ready to face whatever this crazy world had in store for us.
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We now found ourselves standing at the entrance of Kaom's Stronghold, a place that exudes a mix of doom and questionable interior design choices. The stone walls are covered in carvings that probably looked impressive a few centuries ago but now just look like someone was trying too hard to be edgy.
The doors are massive and intimidating, designed to make us feel like we're walking into a dragon's lair. As I pushed them open, they creak ominously, probably from the sheer weight of the expectations placed on them by Kaom himself. I can't help but think, "Ever heard of WD-40?"
The lighting is abysmal, as if Kaom decided candles were too mainstream and instead went with strategically placed torches that barely light anything. Shadows dance on the walls, giving everything a spooky, haunted house vibe. We wonder if they ever considered installing some modern lighting solutions.
We then ran into Karui Warriors and Tukohama's Torchbearers. The former decked out in loincloths and war paint, looking like they took a detour from a tribal cosplay convention. The latter wielded flaming totems. I had a moment to appreciate the dedication it must take to lug around a burning stick all day. "Did no one tell them about portable heaters?" I thought as I dodge their attacks. One of them trips over his own totem, setting a nearby tapestry on fire.
The deeper we go, the more the decor shifts from "eerie" to "Kaom's House of Horrors." Skulls and bones are scattered around as if someone thought they'd make good conversation pieces. We're pretty sure we see a skeleton propped up with a sign saying "Bob's Last Stand."
A group of Karui Archers take potshots at us from a distance. Their aim is about as good as a stormtrooper's. Arrows whiz past us, embedding themselves in walls, the floor, and occasionally in other archers. I zipped one particularly wayward shot that was going wide by about a mile and think, "Have these guys ever heard of target practice?"
I looked back at Dem, Kai, and Jade. "Alright, team, let's make this quick," I said with a grin. Dem gave a determined flicker, Kai bounced excitedly, and Jade just looked stoic, probably contemplating the futility of life or something equally deep.
As we approached Kaom's inner sanctum, we were met by Kaom's Chosen. They're the beefiest, most overly serious group you've seen yet. They look like they spend all their time flexing in front of each other and comparing battle scars. Their strategy seems to be less about actual combat and more about trying to out-intimidate us with their best growls and scowls.
"Are we supposed to be scared?" I asked, genuinely curious as one of them flexed his pecs at us. "Because I think I've seen scarier things in a kindergarten playground."
Finally, we reached Kaom's throne room. Kaom himself sat on an oversized throne that looked like it was cobbled together from an IKEA nightmare. He rose, looking every bit the overgrown bully he is, complete with a scowl that suggested he'd just been told he's out of snacks.
He stepped forward, brandishing a massive axe that seemed more for show than practicality. He roared something about power and glory, but I was too busy noticing that his loincloth was slightly askew.
"Well, he seems pretty strong. You guys think you can handle him yourselves?" I asked my companions.
Dem, Kai, and Jade exchanged glances, and then gave me looks that clearly said, "Seriously?" before stepping forward to engage Kaom.
"Alright, I'll be over here if you need me," I said, plopping down in a corner and pulling out some snacks. "Go get 'em, team!"
Dem ignited her flames, looking like a tiny, fiery avenger. Kai zipped around like a hyperactive squirrel on caffeine, while Jade lumbered forward with the determination of a toddler going for his favorite toy.
Kaom, meanwhile, was giving a grand speech about his unbeatable strength and how we would all fall before him. I half-listened, munching on my snacks and trying to decide if his loincloth was really just badly tied or if it was part of his whole "intimidating warlord" aesthetic.
"Seriously, dude," I muttered, watching Kai narrowly avoid a swing of Kaom's axe. "Have you ever heard of pants?"
The fight raged on. Dem's flames singed Kaom's beard, which sent him into a fit of rage. He swung his axe wildly, nearly decapitating one of his own Chosen who was trying to sneak up on Jade. Jade, bless him, just stared down the poor guy until he ran away, clearly regretting his life choices.
Kaom tried to stomp on Kai, but the little guy was too quick. Kai zipped up onto Kaom's shoulder and started poking him in the eye with tiny electric jolts. Kaom swatted at him like he was an annoying fly, roaring in frustration.
"Looking good, team!" I called out, giving them a thumbs up. Dem shot me a look that clearly said, "A little help here?"
"Oh fine," I sighed, putting down my snacks and getting up. "I guess I'll join the fun."
With a zip, I was at Kaom's side, Sanchomo unsheathed and glowing with elemental energy. I aimed for his legs, figuring it's hard to be a terrifying warlord when you can't stand up properly.
Kaom howled in pain and fury as he staggered, swinging his axe wildly. "You dare challenge Kaom?!"
"Well, yeah," I said, dodging another swing. "You're kind of in our way."
With Dem's flames, Kai's zapping, and Jade's earth-shattering punches, we slowly but surely wore Kaom down. Finally, I drove Sanchomo through his chest.
Kaom let out one last, anguished roar before collapsing to the ground. The throne room fell silent, the oppressive energy dissipating like mist in the morning sun.
We gathered around the fallen warlord. "Alright, team," I said, giving the stronghold one last look. "Let's get out of here and find somewhere with better lighting and fewer undead."
We exited Kaom's Stronghold, ready for whatever Wraeclast had in store next, confident in our unity and shared purpose—and maybe, just maybe, with a little more respect for the importance of proper wardrobe choices.
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Days later, I found myself heading towards Daresso's Dream, or rather his arena. This time, I was going solo. The reason? Well, I was bored. Sure, fighting on the sidelines and occasionally on the front lines was fun, but I missed the thrill of solo combat. So, with the misunderstood permission from my companions (who thought I was abandoning them), I set off.
I stepped into Daresso's Dream, and immediately, the world around me shifted. This wasn't the usual nightmarish landscape of Wraeclast. Instead, it felt like I'd stepped into a fever dream concocted by a drama queen with a flair for the theatrical.
The gates in front of me were massive and ornate, looking like they were designed by someone who just discovered bedazzling. Gold trim, gems, and overly dramatic carvings of muscular men striking poses decorated the entrance. I pushed open the gates, half-expecting a red carpet to roll out.
Inside, the corridors were draped in luxurious red velvet, with walls adorned with portraits of Daresso in various heroic poses. Each one seemed to scream, "Look at me, I'm fabulous!" The air smelled faintly of perfume, and I started to wonder if I'd stumbled into a high-end department store's cologne section.
The first enemies I encountered were Daresso's swordsmen. They didn't just attack; they performed. Each swing of their sword was accompanied by a dramatic flourish, as if they were auditioning for a role in a swashbuckling film. One of them did a pirouette mid-attack and nearly tripped over his own feet. I couldn't help but laugh, wondering if they practiced in front of mirrors.
"Seriously, guys?" I asked, dodging a flamboyant lunge. "Is there an award for 'Most Dramatic Death'? Because you're all contenders."
The swordsman gave me a look that could only be described as affronted before trying to swipe at me again with even more gusto. I sidestepped, watching him spin out of control and crash into a wall.
The next wave was even more absurd. Daresso's gladiators strutted out, clad in absurdly shiny armor that looked like it was polished every ten minutes. They brandished oversized weapons with the enthusiasm of kids showing off their Halloween costumes.
I dispatched them with ease, mostly because I couldn't stop laughing at their antics. One particularly enthusiastic gladiator tried to juggle his sword and shield before attacking. He ended up dropping both and tripping over his feet.
As I ventured deeper, the corridors opened into rooms that looked like mini-arenas, each one a stage for the next dramatic encounter, complete with spotlights and raised platforms. Duelists appeared, moving like they were in a dance competition. They lunged, parried, and twirled, their movements exaggerated for maximum effect. One of them even winked at me mid-fight, as if to say, "Aren't we having fun?" I sidestepped his overly dramatic lunge and gave him a gentle tap on the head with my Sanchomo. Well, if you call being met with Lightning gentle, then I don't know what gentle is.
Finally, I reached Daresso's inner sanctum. Daresso himself stood on a raised platform under a spotlight, looking every bit the showman, his armor gleaming, his posture exuding confidence. He raised his sword and struck a pose that was straight out of a romance novel cover. "Welcome, challenger!" he boomed, as if addressing an adoring crowd.
Daresso's attacks were a mix of power and performance. Each swing of his sword was accompanied by a flourish and a dramatic shout. I dodged a particularly flamboyant spin attack, thinking, "This guy really needs to tone it down."
He lunged at me with a wild overhead swing, but it was so telegraphed I had time to check my watch. As his sword came crashing down, I casually sidestepped and gave him a playful nudge with my foot. He stumbled, momentarily off-balance, and I couldn't help but quip, "Nice footwork. Ever thought about joining a ballet troupe?"
Daresso snarled, his face flushing with anger. "You dare mock the King of Swords?" he thundered, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"King of Swords?" I replied, raising an eyebrow. "More like King of Drama."
Enraged, Daresso unleashed a flurry of attacks, each one more dramatic than the last. He spun, leapt, and even did a backflip, all while shouting his battle cries. I parried and dodged with ease, marveling at his sheer theatricality.
"Seriously, do you have a choreographer?" I asked, ducking under a particularly flashy horizontal slash. "Because this is some next-level stuff."
Daresso's frustration grew, his attacks becoming increasingly erratic. He charged at me, his sword held high, and I decided it was time to hone my swordsmanship, namely Adaptive Edge. I zipped out of his vision, then reappeared behind him. He blocked it, as I expected from the King of Swords.
His power was not on par with Lisa, but it'll do. Sanchomo gleamed with power. Each of my strikes was aimed to kill. As I zipped and zapped around the arena, the battle began to take on a frenetic pace.
Daresso growled, his eyes wild with desperation. He swung his sword in wide arcs, trying to catch me off guard, but I was always a step ahead. I could feel his anger and frustration growing with each failed attempt to land a blow.
"Stand still, coward!" he roared, his voice echoing through the arena.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Now where's the fun in that?" I retorted, darting around him and striking with blinding speed. My movements were a blur, my strikes precise and unrelenting.
I created earthen barriers to throw him off balance, forcing him to navigate a maze of rock and stone while still fending off my attacks. Pyrobolts rained down on him from unexpected angles, their fiery impact adding to his growing disarray. The Summoned Swords buzzed around him, a constant, irritating presence that kept him off-balance.
To others, this may have looked like bullying, and yes, it was. I mean, I was pretty pent up, but the good kind, you know. As I saw the progress my disastrous trio was making, I couldn't help but feel like a proud parent.
Daresso's defenses began to falter under the relentless assault. He tried to regain his footing, swinging wildly in an attempt to push me back, but I was relentless. My technique kept me one step ahead, always finding the perfect angle to strike.
I summoned a massive earthen spike from the ground, catching Daresso off guard. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock, and in that moment, I struck. Sanchomo cleaved through his defenses, cutting deep into his side.
Daresso let out a roar of pain, dropping to one knee. "This… cannot be…" he gasped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
I stood over him, my blade still at the ready. "You fought well, Daresso," I said, my voice steady. "But it's time to end this."
With a final, swift motion, I drove Sanchomo through his chest, ending the fight. Daresso's eyes widened in shock, then slowly closed as he slumped to the ground.
As the dust settled, I took a deep breath, feeling the rush of victory and the satisfaction of a fight well fought. The echoes of the battle faded, leaving only the haunting silence of the arena. I muttered the upcoming boss' name, "Malachai," knowing that an even greater challenge lay ahead.
I sheathed Sanchomo and began my slow exit from Daresso's Dream. The grandiosity and theatrical splendor of the place seemed to dull in the aftermath, the once vibrant reds and golds now muted in the dim light. The corridors that had buzzed with life and combat were now silent, save for the soft whisper of my footsteps on the stone floor.
As I approached the exit, the weight of what was to come pressed heavily on my shoulders. The thrill of victory was overshadowed by the looming dread of the next confrontation. Malachai, a threat, and he was not just another opponent. He was a force of destruction, a harbinger of chaos.
I emerged from the arena, the sunlight feeling harsh and unwelcoming. My trio was waiting for me, their faces a mix of worry and relief. Dem's glow had dimmed, her wings folded tight against her back as she fluttered anxiously. Kai had stopped bouncing, his eyes wide with concern, and Jade stood stoic, his usual impassive expression softened by a hint of anxiety.
Dem fluttered closer, her tiny hands reaching out to touch my arm. Her warm, flickering glow expressed her concern. I forced a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. "I'm fine," I said, trying to reassure her. "Just... thinking about what's next."
Kai tugged at my sleeve, his wide eyes filled with hurt and confusion. I knelt down, ruffling his fur gently.
Jade remained silent, but his eyes spoke volumes. He understood the weight of my words, the burden of the battles yet to come. He placed a hand on my thigh, a silent gesture of support and solidarity.
I looked at my companions, my heart aching with a bittersweet mix of love and sorrow. They were my strength, my reason for fighting, but they were also my greatest vulnerability.
"We have to be strong," I said, more to myself than to them. "Malachai is unlike anything we've faced before. But together, we can overcome him."
Dem nodded, her glow brightening just a bit. Kai's usual enthusiasm returned, albeit subdued, and he bounced slightly on the spot. Jade gave a single, resolute nod.
With my trio by my side, I turned my gaze towards the horizon, where the dark shadows of the future loomed.