[Dream's Perspective]

  My plan wasn't aimed at killing (Kyura) immediately. The goal was to isolate him, strip him of his army, and leave him to drown in his despair. The next step was simple and cruel: waiting. I sat in the shadows and let nature take its bloody course.

  The wolf forces weakened, their morale collapsing after the death of the females and the pups. This imbalance didn't escape the notice of the lurking southern neighbor.

  (Shirawasa), the Lord of Rabbits, saw the opportunity and pounced.

  Another month passed. The war was grinding, shaking the very foundations of the mountain. The rabbits—those creatures that seem so innocent—had transformed into an army of predatory white locusts. They attacked in endless waves, drowning the wolves in numbers, tearing their flesh with teeth as sharp as razors. The white snow became a canvas stained with blood and mangled fur.

  And I... I was a ghost amidst this chaos. Helping the rabbits from the shadows, hunting down stray wolves. The rabbits began to treat me as a strange ally, occasionally clearing a path for me, their red eyes watching me with caution but no aggression. I wanted to kill the wolves, but it seemed I had unintentionally gained an army of white demons.

  I felt my will hardening with every fight, like metal forged in fire. I pierced the "Mastery Realm" and reached the "Adaptation Spectrum" (Phase 3). My power was growing, and my sword, Shakujo, became lighter in my hand, as if it were a bony extension of my arm. I sat cleaning my sword of the blood of a wolf I had just killed, steam rising from the warm blood into the cold air. I had become capable of annihilating an entire group alone.

  Only the big head remained. (Kyura). I must kill him before (Shirawasa) gets to him. He is my prey. He is my prize.

  I looked at (404) in my mind: "What do you think, Chip? What is the probability of me defeating Kyura now?"

  (404) replied after a quick analysis, his voice echoing with digital clarity: < The probability: 40%... or perhaps less. Data analysis indicates that Kyura’s level lies in the 'Endurance Spectrum' or 'Soul Spectrum' (Phase 6 or 7 of the Mastery Realm). The gap in raw power is still significant. >

  I said confidently: "Fine. Even if I'm on the brink of losing, I can knock myself out and let you take control as usual. Your survival mode is invincible."

  (404) looked at me with electronic surprise, pausing for a moment before dropping his bombshell coldly: < Even if a total blackout occurs... I cannot take control of your body. >

  "What?! Why?!"

  He replied stoically: < Because (Morito) sealed me somehow during our last encounter. The control protocol is disabled and encrypted. >

  I was stunned. I felt dizzy. The only safety net I had been relying on was gone. I am completely alone. "Why didn't you tell me before?!"

  He answered with provoking simplicity: < You didn’t ask. >

  (Hong Min) cut in with his enthusiastic voice: "Even if the probability is 40%, you should pull yourself together and go kill him! This is the least you can do for his sake!"

  I looked at (404), who surprised me by agreeing with (Hong Min): < Analysis: The combat will greatly benefit us in gathering evolution data. Also, we have observed Kyura for a long time and know his pattern. We can retreat quickly if necessary. Probability of killing Kyura: 40%. But probability of survival and escape: 80%. The risk is acceptable. >

  I stood up, tightening my grip on my sword: "I'll do it. Of course, I'll fight him."

  Spring had arrived outside the mountain, but inside, the winter was eternal. The forest was still white, the trees covered in unmelting ice. I moved toward Kyura’s ruined den. I arrived.

  The scene was majestic and tragic. Kyura was cornered in the center of the valley. Around him was a sea of small rabbits, their eyes red, emitting an aggressive screeching—like waves preparing to drown him. And from afar, on an overlooking hill, stood (Shirawasa).

  He was a rabbit the size of a bear, his fur pure white, but his aura was black and malicious. He was looking at Kyura with a gaze of cold triumph and spite. He knew the small rabbits would die if they attacked, but he didn't attack himself. He was waiting for the wounded king to be completely exhausted.

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  Until I arrived.

  As soon as I appeared, Kyura changed. He turned toward me. I felt his hatred strike me like a heatwave despite the biting frost. He hated the rabbits, yes. But his hatred for me was personal. I was the one who killed his children. I was the one who destroyed his world.

  (Shirawasa) looked at me, then gestured with his hand (or paw) for the rabbits to retreat and open a path for me. He knew what I wanted. And he knew what Kyura wanted. A fight to the death.

  I stood face-to-face with Kyura. This was the first time I had been this close. He was terrifyingly massive, four times the size of a normal wolf. His white fur was stained with ash and frozen blood. His eyes... one was yellow like a sickly sun, the other blue like cracked ice—a contradiction reflecting the madness he had reached.

  I used to think wolves were smart. And I was right. But they possess a stupid pride. This pride is what led to their defeat. They refuse to flee. As for me... I flee without pride whenever death approaches. And that is what keeps me alive.

  Kyura began to howl. It was a question: Why? Why did you do this to us?

  I answered him, knowing he wouldn't understand my words, but he would understand my intent: "Because you would never have fought me alone. I had to strip you of everything to stand before you."

  The battle began.

  Kyura’s aura was heavy, making me want to flee instantly. But I planted my feet and gripped Shakujo. He opened his mouth and fired a volley of massive ice swords, like artillery shells. Then, he gripped a massive ice sword created by his breath in his mouth and attacked like a madman. He wasn't fighting with caution. The time for caution was over. He was fighting to die and take me with him.

  I parried his blows with difficulty, my sword screaming under the pressure. I dodged, I retreated, but he pursued me. He wasn't just using Ice Magic... but Fire Magic too! I hadn't known about his fire magic before! He was sending cold blue fireballs that melted my defenses, and swords that were half-fire and half-ice, exploding upon contact and filling the arena with thick steam.

  He spun his body with the sword like a whirlwind, incredibly fast, using trees and rocks as footholds to leap and attack me from impossible angles. I was in total defense. I couldn't keep up with his speed and acrobatic movements. In a moment of oversight, he pierced my defense. He struck me with the sword in his mouth. It hit my shoulder, a critical injury that almost severed it from my body.

  I retreated, bleeding gray blood. I began using every card I held. I used Wind to increase my speed and match his madness. I used Water to extinguish his blue fires. I used Fire to melt his ice. I used Earth to build walls to protect me for a single second. And my sword, Shakujo... I used it for destruction, analyzing every movement, every breath.

  I felt I was returning to an ancient entity I once was... I felt I was uniting with myself in this dance of blood. Suddenly, (Hong Min) shouted in my mind: "Dream! From the right!"

  It was a treacherous ice bullet that came from behind me, ricocheting off a rock. I hadn't noticed it. It hit my waist, piercing my side, heading toward my heart. It deflected at the last second, but the pain was horrific. He gave me no time to breathe. He continued the assault.

  (404) said to me: < Damage critical. We must retreat. >

  I looked at him, blood filling my mouth: "I will not retreat. Even if it means my death." For some reason, I hated the idea of fleeing at this moment. If this wolf, alone and destroyed, didn't flee before an army of rabbits... then who am I to flee? I will not flee. I will fight.

  As I fought, I noticed something strange in his movement. There was heavy blood flowing from his stomach, dyeing the snow beneath him red. I hadn't hit him there... my strikes had been superficial. I focused my vision as he spun. His stomach was slashed. A deep, distinct wound. It wasn't a sword wound.

  It was three parallel lines, precise and deep, that had torn the flesh and fur. The claw marks of a giant rabbit. Shirawasa...

  I realized the bitter truth. The rabbit was the one who did it. He had delivered a fatal blow to his soft underbelly, then left him for me to finish off, or to die slowly. Kyura was fighting while already dead. He was fighting with his entrails mangled.

  I decided to end it. To end it with a dignity befitting a beast like him. He was preparing for his favorite move: the whirlwind spin with the sword. I noticed a gap. Because of the deep wound in his stomach, he couldn't complete the rotation at a full angle. The pain prevented him. There was a "blind spot" for a fraction of a second beneath his body.

  But it was a insane risk. If I miscalculated, he would cut me in two. He made the move. I made him think I would retreat backward as usual. Then, in a fraction of a second... I dove beneath him.

  I slid on the ground slick with blood and snow, beneath the thundering whirlwind of swords. And the plan worked. I was beneath his open belly. I raised Shakujo, and with one cutting motion, with all my strength... I split his stomach in half.

  Everything stopped. The ice sword fell from his mouth and shattered. Then the giant wolf fell to the ground, hitting with the weight of a mountain, his blood covering the white snow like an expanding ink blot.

  I stood up, panting, blood covering my face. I won. I am stronger than Kyura. I am stronger. I am stronger... I...

  I didn't feel the ecstasy of victory. I didn't feel the happiness I felt when I killed his family. As I saw Kyura before me drawing his final breaths, his eyes still open and looking at me... with the same strange eyes of Hong Min that I never understood.

  I felt a strange sensation. I won... but I feel I lost. I won... but I feel I didn't win the way I wanted. I won... but I feel a thousand times worse than the loser.

  In that moment... it began to rain. For the first time on this frozen mountain... it rained.

  I raised my face. It wasn't snow... and it wasn't cold rain. They were warm drops. Strangely warm, as if hot tears were falling from the sky. The warm rain began to melt the snow around us, washing the blood from my face and from the body of the dead wolf, making a faint hissing sound as it touched the eternal ice.

  As usual... whenever I feel that strange sensation in my chest... it rains.

  I hate the rain. I hate it intensely.