The day mirrored his mindset: bright and clear, the sky unblemished by clouds or any hint of an approaching storm. An infinite chasm of space lay between him and the sun, a gulf impossible to traverse by ordinary means. Toga's thoughts were similarly unclouded, his usual aversion to muddled thinking replaced by an extraordinary calm. Today, distractions and worldly pleasures held no allure for him, a stark departure from his usual disposition.

Ordinarily, the world was a lake in which he longed to swim, where he could wade to its farthest edges and revel in the feel of water beneath his limbs. But today, he moved with a disciplined focus that was unfamiliar, rarely embraced by the dragon slayer. His life was like a tapestry once immaculate, now marred by the cuts, tears, and stains of his journey. Yet it remained beautiful, each flaw adding to its unique artistry, making it his alone. No one else could fully grasp the path that had brought him to this point. And today, he was ready to add another thread to the weave, another chapter to his story, marked by the acquisition of new skills and weapons.

Nestled deep within the heart of Aina Forest on Luluhawa Island, Toga sat with his left eye concealed, hiding his latest augmentation. Beside him, lying on a bed of verdant grass, was the mighty cleaver blade Zangetsu, resting peacefully in its dark splendor. Legs crossed, the dragon slayer gazed at a sheathed katana in his lap, its ornate hilt adorned with white and crimson-orange accents that shimmered in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. It was more than a weapon; it was a symbol of his evolving journey, a tangible representation of the challenges he had faced and those yet to come.

“I have two swords now and can use them fairly well, but no one would mistake me for a true swordsman…” he muttered, sighing deeply as if drained by his own shortcomings. The realization gnawed at him, a reminder of his need to grow beyond the fiery magic that had so often been his salvation.

“I need to change that. I can’t always rely on my magic. Some battles will need more than fire,” Toga continued, his tone low but resolute. He forced himself to confront the truth: he'd been fortunate in past battles, facing adversaries who had natural weaknesses to his fire dragon slayer magic or limitations that played to his advantage. But what would he do when he encountered an opponent who could stand toe-to-toe with him or exploit his vulnerabilities? That's where Zangetsu would need to come into play, along with his latest weapon, Rengoku’s Kimetsu. He knew that to truly master these blades, to weave these new skills into the fabric of his abilities, would require not just practice but a deeper understanding of the swordsmanship that had eluded him until now.

---

wc: 490/3500 (END WC Reduction of 30%)

In the dense heart of the forest, Toga relied on his instincts and the tools at hand to maintain his composure. Patience was never his strongest trait, and although gaining strength was his top priority, it usually stemmed from experience—combat and adventure where steel sharpened steel, driven solely by instinct and consequence. But that haphazard approach could only carry him so far. He needed something more sustainable, manageable, and predictable.

Resolute, he steadied himself within the vast blanket of grass around him. With Rengoku’s Kimetsu in hand, he admired the katana's vibrant, sharpened edge. His left eye remained closed, while his right focused intently on the glistening surface. Zangetsu, a massive and weighty weapon, required far more skill and strength than he could muster at this stage. Thus, mastery would have to come from the smaller katana for now. In this moment, the Kimetsu was his partner on this journey. Toga took a breath, his mind focused on honing his skills with this blade. He knew that refining his technique required precision, discipline, and patience. And so, he remained still, gathering his resolve as he prepared to wield Rengoku’s Kimetsu, seeking mastery through careful practice rather than by chance.

"Huh," Toga's nose twitched as he caught the scent of another. Turning his head, his pink hair fluttered in the wind as he set his gaze on the newcomer. "Oh, hello!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, waving energetically. His right brown eye carefully studied the figure while his nose sought further clues. The newcomer's scent was strangely familiar, even though Toga had never met this person. Oddly enough, it reminded him of Michael and Ursula.

"My bad! Was I bothering you?" Toga asked, standing up fully and dusting off the debris clinging to his clothes. "I thought I was alone, but you look strong!" He cut straight to the point, favoring a direct approach as his smile lit up his face. Toga's curiosity grew as he continued to study the stranger, noting the confidence in their posture and the determination in their eyes. This could be an opportunity to learn something new, to test his own strength against someone unfamiliar. He was ready to push his limits, to sharpen his skills in a way that mere training couldn't offer.

"Hey! This might seem odd, but do you want to spar?" Toga asked, his tone friendly but charged with excitement. He held out his hand in greeting, eager to see how the newcomer would respond.

“Oh, that was odd! My name is Toga by the way! Should probably introduce myself before I jump out the window asking for fights, hahaha,”

---

wc: 450 [940]

Toga's gaze remained patient, though mildly confused, as he regarded the dark-haired wanderer. His left eye was closed, but he managed a half-hearted smile while listening to the stranger speak. Waving away any implication that the man had interrupted his meditation, Toga sought to ease his nerves. Meditation was a new ritual he had adopted to refine his skills. He'd much rather be dashing around the island, tackling a quest, or crossing blades and magic with someone than standing still. Yet, mastery required adaptation and flexibility. Mortals were like water, shaping themselves to the obstacles and currents of life. Toga was no different.

When the stranger showed interest in Toga's request, the dragon slayer's expression brightened with animated excitement. "Oh, good, gr—" he began, but his words were cut short as the man continued, expressing some skepticism. Toga chuckled lightly at the newcomer's wariness. "Makes sense to be cautious," he agreed, understanding the stranger's hesitation.

"Oh, don't worry! I'm not here to murder anyone," he laughed, waving away the notion. "It's just been tough to find a sparring partner out here, so I figured I'd ask the first person I saw." Toga's words were filled with warmth and sincerity, emphasizing that his intentions were purely coincidental rather than malicious. He looked at the man with unwavering resolve, eager to prove that his motives were genuine. "I promise you, it's just a friendly sparring match. We can both learn a lot from it!" He gestured to the small clearing they stood in, the forest canopy providing a natural arena around them. "What do you say?" He smiled, exuding a playful charisma as he awaited the stranger's response.

“Alaric? Cool name! I guess my streak of meeting fellow Joyans here has finally run out, hahaha,” Toga chuckled, finding no hint of familiarity in the syllables of Alaric's name. While not every Joyan adhered strictly to tradition or chose native names, Toga had been lucky in identifying people from his homeland until now. Alaric seemed to be an exception.

"I do have magic, but today I’m just using these swords and the spells that come with them. You guessed right; I’m working on my swordsmanship," Toga explained, scratching the back of his head and running his fingers through his pink hair. "You can use whatever you like, but I think Kimetsu and Zangetsu will be enough for me." He didn't want to underestimate Alaric or make assumptions about his strength. Instead, he saw this sparring match as a valuable opportunity to test his limits and break through his own glass ceiling. Toga was a dragon slayer by nature, but he chose to become a swordsman. He needed to wield his swords with as much ease as he did his fiery magic. Alaric’s unfamiliar presence, detached from the Joyan roots Toga knew so well, was a welcome challenge—a chance to grow stronger and refine his skills with both blades.

His transcender’s blood boiled as the spell-sword lifted the black cleaver from the ground before mining it’s tip into the dirt, opting to hold Rengoku’s Kimetsu in a proper stance. A silvery aura shimmered around him – a natural evolutionary peculiarity of his body as his Extinctas attribute materialized in real time. “Let’s have a great fight! Use whatever you have and come at me! Good luck!”

---

wc: 561 [1501]

- Rengoku's Kimetsu Drawn!

With a hearty laugh, Toga responded to Alaric's presumptuous agreement to the training session, his tone light and jovial. "Hahaha, don’t worry. I don’t plan for either of us leave to leave this forest in a body bag or anything." Despite his prowess in magic and his penchant for seeking out conflict as naturally as drawing breath, Toga held a profound reverence for life. The notion of willingly casting it aside for the sake of a marginal improvement in his training held no appeal to him. Alaric had nothing to fear from the dragon slayer's quarter. "Truth be told, I suspect I'll be the one on the defensive for the majority of this encounter," Toga admitted, his words tinged with an odd mix of mirth and sincerity.

Even with the use of a single brown eye, Toga could discern the immense physical talents that coursed through Alaric's veins, likely surpassing his own. Having crossed paths with several werewolves in the past—even holding a strong affection for one—the dragon slayer was well-versed in the inherent gifts bestowed upon their kind. Alaric's very essence exuded that hereditary fragrance, enveloping him like the radiant sun on a summer's day. Anyone possessed of a keen nose and familiarity with the species would have no trouble detecting it. Yet, there was something more at play. Alaric's strength seemed to eclipse even that of Michael and Toga's beloved Ursula. A smirk played upon Toga's lips as he realized he had indeed discovered an exceptional sparring partner.

With meticulous attention, Toga observed Alaric's slow, deliberate approach, his direct steps transitioning into a rotating arc that encircled the dragon slayer. Toga's smile never wavered as his eye tracked Alaric's movements; his gaze unwavering in its concentration.

The Exctintas, already poised in a proper stance, tightened his grip on his weapon, his breath slowing as he carefully gauged the distance between them. Armed with an intimate knowledge of his weapon's reach and his own wingspan, Toga had a clear understanding of his effective range. While Alaric exuded an aura of raw strength, if he chose to rely solely on his fists, Toga would capitalize on the advantage afforded by his weapon's superior reach.

There. The moment arrived. As Alaric continued his circular enclosure, closing the distance to within Toga's range, the soft click of metal heralded the arrival of Rengoku's Kimestsu. The blade sung through the air, effortlessly emerging from its scabbard in a lightning-fast draw. With a fluid motion, the pink-haired dragon slayer aimed to flash the blunt edge of the blade across Alaric's chest, mindful not to cleave him in twain. The concussive force alone would suffice to leave a lasting impression if the strike found its mark. A fair trade-off.

Toga maintained a compact slash, his body poised and fluid, ready to react instinctively to any counter. The training had begun in earnest!

---

wc: 501 [2002]

Combat Log:

As the sun cast its rays over Luluhawa Island, it illuminated a landscape ripe with the promise of determined growth. Those who walked beneath its warm glow might not have been aware of the potential that lay before them, but for those with ambition and inspiration, the gains they could achieve on this day could be monumental.

After all, the purpose of life was to exist, to grow, and to evolve. To learn from one's mistakes and strip away the pieces of oneself that promoted weakness or frailty. To discard the unnecessary and make room for the evolutionary steps that could bring one closer to their ultimate self. This was the reason why this morning held such importance, and why Toga trained with unwavering dedication.

Blessed with the rare and immensely powerful gift of dragon slaying magic, Toga excelled in this area. However, this was the moment where he would shed his inadequacies and create space for growth. Though not yet a swordsman, he knew that with time and perseverance, he would become one. This was the path he had chosen, the journey to becoming his best self, and he embraced it with open arms and a determined heart.

Toga mused to himself, a perfect smile adorning his features as he watched his blade narrowly miss Alaric's frame. The dark-haired lycan, with instinctive focus, pivoted and withdrew, his footfalls carrying him just out of reach of the slashing blade and ultimately beyond Toga's range entirely. The dragon slayer observed with a wide smile, his eyes telling a story of their own as he thoroughly studied the way Alaric moved, documenting the patterns he wove to evade the attack. The werewolf's retreat was simple yet efficient, his circular approach seamlessly transitioning into a linear escape. It was a testament to his skill, and Toga couldn't help but respect it.

"Ooooh, nice Alaric-san! You're as quick as I thought," Toga called out, his words validating his earlier assessment of the man. Alaric possessed physical tools that naturally outclassed his own, an innate advantage in this battle, especially after Toga had limited the encounter to the use of weapons or the magic that originated from those tools, rather than the users themselves. Reflexivity was but one facet of combat, yet it was significant enough to allow for inferences about other capabilities. Toga's smile only grew as he realized the true depth of the challenge before him, his excitement mounting with each passing moment.

"But I wonder if your strength is just as impressive," Toga whispered, his words barely rising above a whisper as he resumed a more traditional stance known as Chudan-no-kamae. With his feet shoulder-width apart and knees slightly bent, he elevated his left heel, positioning his left foot slightly behind his right, and squared his hips to the front. His katana rested at naval level, extended forward but angled downward. "Here I come, Alaric!" Toga exclaimed, his smile growing more excited as he tightened his grip on the weapon's hilt.

Without hesitation, he pushed off, his body shooting forward at breakneck speeds towards the werewolf, his weapon held overhead. His entire focus centered on the warrior before him, the dragon slayer veered slightly to his left, favoring more visibility for his right side and creating a more situational response. As he entered the range of his weapon's maximum length, Toga pulled his arms down, attempting to drop the blade upon Alaric, aiming to cleave him in two. However, he wielded the blunt side of the weapon, ensuring that no lasting harm would come to his opponent.

---

wc: 600 [2602]

Combat Log: