THE SAMURAI'S REVENGE

Haytham found himself standing before a dark forest. Night had fallen, and despite the blood-red hue that stained the sky, an oppressive darkness clung to the woods. Slowly, he ventured into the shadowed depths, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves under his unseen feet. Then, he heard them – soft, deliberate steps ahead. Through the gloom, a figure materialized: a man clad in a black kimono, his feet encased in black wooden sandals, white socks peeking above the straps. Black hair framed a face with striking blue eyes, and around his waist, a black-hilted katana rested in its scabbard.

"Are you perhaps Kyofei's disciple?" the man's voice cut through the stillness.

"How do you know his name?" Haytham countered, his own voice low and cautious.

"I was Kyofei's first disciple," the man replied, a hint of reminiscence in his tone. "He was a man who inspired trust, charisma even. But his ideals… they were weak, lacking a true foundation. He was not a free man, bound solely by his beliefs. That is why I chose to leave him. And when the great Sayler began his revolution, I knew I had to become his ally. Sayler, unlike Kyofei, possesses a true objective, and his ideals are not mere empty words."

A flicker of something akin to anger sparked in Haytham's eyes. "Surely Kyofei was… unique, deeply devoted to the way of the samurai and the sword. But that did not make him weak. Thanks to him, I have become who I am now. I will make you swallow those words!"

The man's gaze hardened. "I am Riabeorth, his first disciple. And I, here and now, challenge you to a duel!"

Haytham's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his own katana. "To restore Kyofei's honor, I will defeat you! I accept!"

Steel whispered against leather as Haytham drew his blade. Riabeorth followed suit, the moonlight – what little pierced the canopy – glinting off the polished steel. Slowly, deliberately, they closed the distance between them, each step measured, until their blades were mere inches apart, poised and ready.

In a swift, simultaneous motion, their katanas rose. A flurry of rapid slashes filled the air, too fast for the eye to truly follow. A blue aura crackled around Riabeorth, contrasting sharply with the crimson energy that pulsed from Haytham.

Suddenly, Riabeorth settled into a firm stance. "Dragon technique, first form!"

With a powerful swing, he unleashed a horizontal arc of pure blue energy. Haytham leaned back, the glowing blade whistling past his face by a hair's breadth. In the next instant, time seemed to warp around Haytham. The air thickened, and he moved with impossible speed, a supersonic dash that brought him directly before Riabeorth. He aimed an upward slash, hoping to catch his opponent off guard, but Riabeorth's parry was lightning-fast. A sharp knee jab forced Haytham back.

"Dragon technique, second form!" Riabeorth declared, his movements fluid and deadly. A storm of blue light slashes erupted around him, a whirling vortex of energy. Yet, Haytham was faster. Utilizing his heightened speed, he danced through the barrage, dodging the majority of the attacks. In his left hand, the shadows seemed to coalesce, forming his black demonic sword, tendrils of purple flame licking its edges. He teleported, a blink in the dim light, reappearing directly in front of Riabeorth. With both blades now drawn – one radiating crimson, the other burning with violet – he unleashed two simultaneous horizontal strikes. Riabeorth met the assault, parrying both, but the combined force sent him skidding backward.

"Dragon technique, third form!" Riabeorth's voice held a new intensity. Blue flames erupted along the length of his katana's blade, the steel taking on an azure glow. He shifted his grip, holding the weapon like a rapier, and lunged forward with blinding speed, aiming a powerful thrust at Haytham's chest. Haytham met the attack, crossing both his swords in a desperate parry. A shockwave of energy exploded between them, the force of the blow pushing Haytham back several steps.

"Dragon technique, fourth form!" A colossal, fiery blue aura engulfed Riabeorth. He swung his katana, and the energy solidified, morphing into the roaring head of a blue dragon. It lunged towards Haytham, jaws snapping with raw power.

"Dimensional Slash!" Haytham roared, meeting the attack head-on. He swung his katana in a clean, vertical arc, the blade slicing through the very air around it. The blue energy dragon was bisected, but instead of dissipating, it detonated in an enormous vertical beam of pure energy. When the light faded, both warriors stood panting, their bodies bruised and battered, yet their eyes still burned with the fire of battle.

"You are a worthy opponent," Haytham admitted, his voice rough. "Only my brother has ever given me this feeling of rivalry in battle. For that, I will show you my power at its absolute peak! Admin mode install twin demons!"

A grotesque transformation wracked Haytham's body. The right side, where he had held his brother's greatsword – the one that pulsed with violet energy – became a stark, absolute black, stretching from the middle of his head down to his right foot. Lines of energy, like writhing purple flames, etched themselves across this blackened half. His right eye's sclera turned pitch black, the pupil a piercing violet. From his right shoulder blade, a demonic wing unfurled, its outer membrane black as night, the inner structure a lattice of vibrant purple energy.

On his left side, the transformation mirrored the right, but in crimson hues. From the center of his head to his left foot, his flesh turned an inky black, crisscrossed by veins of fiery red energy. A matching demonic wing sprouted from his left shoulder, black on the outside, a blaze of red energy within. His left eye now mirrored its counterpart, a black sclera framing a burning red pupil. Haytham's gaze was unwavering, his stance radiating a terrifying power.

Riabeorth stared, a mixture of awe and apprehension in his blue eyes. "Interesting… I see you are not as weak as I initially believed. You are, after all, a veteran of the war against the glitches. For that, out of respect for you as a swordsman, I will show you my most potent form, granted to me by Sayler! Fragments dragon strength!"

A blinding azure aura erupted from Riabeorth's body. His blue eyes shone with an almost supernatural light, and shimmering blue dragon scales began to appear on his face and hands. His katana pulsed with a vibrant blue energy. He shifted into a final, resolute stance.

Simultaneously, both warriors coiled, then sprang. They met in mid-air, a collision of raw power about to unfold. As Riabeorth drew close, he roared, "True dragon technique, first form!"

With a sweeping, circular slash, he unleashed a ring of pure blue light. The energy tore through the air, creating an immense circular cut so potent that it bisected every tree in the surrounding forest, sending them flying skyward before crashing back to the earth. Haytham barely managed to evade the devastating attack, landing lightly on the ravaged ground.

Riabeorth, still airborne, rained down a relentless barrage of blue light slashes. Haytham, his perception of time warped to his advantage, danced through the storm of energy with impossible agility. In a blur of motion, he dashed forward, teleporting once more directly in front of Riabeorth. His left hand shifted, the katana replaced by his gun, and he unleashed a massive beam of concentrated blue energy. Riabeorth dodged with a speed that belied his transformed state.

"True dragon technique, second form!" Riabeorth roared, his katana arcing upward. A colossal pillar of blue light erupted from beneath Haytham's feet. He teleported backward just in time, the edge of the energy column searing his armor. He landed, taking a stance, and unleashed a crossed slash of combined red energy and violet flames in an "X" shape. Riabeorth met the attack with a swift, vertical blue slash, bisecting Haytham's strike. The two energies collided and dissipated in a shower of sparks.

"True dragon technique, third form!" From the hilt of Riabeorth's katana, tongues of azure fire licked upward, engulfing the blade in a brilliant blue light. He lunged forward with terrifying speed, aiming a lethal thrust at Haytham. With a desperate roar, Haytham parried with both his swords, the impact creating a cataclysmic explosion of energy that obliterated what remained of the forest.

Now, only the two warriors remained, battered and bruised, but their fighting spirit unbroken.

"It seems," Riabeorth gasped, his chest heaving, "that we are approaching the end of our battle. We are the two best disciples of that man. Let us give it everything we have, so we can finally understand if Kyofei was right or wrong!"

Haytham settled into his final stance, the air around him crackling with red and black energy. "Agreed. It is time to end this!" He dematerialized his brother's greatsword, gripping his katana with both hands, his gaze locked on Riabeorth.

Riabeorth mirrored his stance, a fierce blue aura blazing around him.

"Dimensional slash of demonic flames united!" Haytham roared.

"True dragon technique, fourth form blue flames of the dying dragon!" Riabeorth countered, his voice filled with a desperate power.

Both warriors surged forward, a final, desperate clash. Haytham's katana pulsed with violent red and purple energy as he unleashed a devastating vertical slash, the very fabric of space seeming to tear apart before it. Riabeorth's blade transformed, the azure flames coalescing into the roaring head of a blue dragon, complete with glowing eyes and sharp claws. He swung it downward, a colossal strike of pure blue fire.

The two ultimate attacks collided in a blinding flash of light that engulfed both swordsmen. When the light subsided, Haytham stood panting on one side of the ravaged landscape, Riabeorth on the other.

"You…" Riabeorth gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "You have won. Kyofei… he would have been very proud of you."

With those final words, Riabeorth's head detached cleanly from his neck. A torrent of blood erupted, only to dissolve into shimmering blue pixels. Then, his entire body followed suit, breaking down into countless glittering fragments that vanished into the air. Haytham had emerged victorious.

His transformed state receded, leaving him breathing heavily, the adrenaline slowly fading. Behind him, his shadow, elongated by the eerie red moonlight, stirred. A familiar voice echoed from its depths.

"You were very good in this fight," Sting's voice resonated from the darkness. "Now, give me your hand. Explanations will come later, but know that Sylene will explain everything."

Without hesitation, Haytham reached out, his hand disappearing into the inky blackness of Sting's shadow. And then, Haytham was gone.