Kiyabu Hisao

Because Kiyabu had taken the ‘Sanity Tablet,’ his mind was shielded from the insidious influence of the Eldritch horrors lurking in the arena. This protective measure left him blissfully unaware of the bizarre tendrils that had ensnared his opponent, Vigilon, just moments before. Yet, in the chaos of battle, perceptions were skewed, and Vigilon, grappling with the phantoms of his own mind, misinterpreted Kiyabu's demeanor. To Vigilon, it seemed as though Kiyabu had no intention or concern for a fellow player's plight, a misjudgment born of desperation and fear. Had Kiyabu seen the tendril

After fumbling his initial attempt to take the lead in this duel, Kiyabu quickly regained his composure, his eyes locking onto Hirru, who was now pointing the tip of their sword in his direction. The gesture was both a challenge and a declaration of intent, but what truly caught Kiyabu’s attention was the familiar glint of metal in Hirru’s grasp. “Hm?” he uttered, a sound of intrigue rather than surprise. As he focused on the object, Kiyabu recognized it immediately—a set of coins strikingly similar, if not identical, to those wielded by Wulfrin during their match on Floor 5. The memory o

Even though his actions might have seemed cowardly to an outside observer, Kiyabu was anything but. He faced a foe—Vigilon—who was grappling with some unseen, eldritch influence that threatened to overwhelm him. In contrast, Kiyabu's mind was clear, having momentarily shaken free from the ominous feeling that had sought to ensnare him. Around them, the arena's atmosphere was charged with tension, punctuated only by the rumbles of the ground and the watchful eyes of their single-digit audience. These spectators, perched from on high, were savoring the spectacle of two players battling not just

PH *** Phoenix Souls: Activation The first time you would reach 0 HP immediately recover 100HP, 20 energy, and cleanse all negative effects. *** Morningstar | HP: 0/205 (-123) | EN: 49/59 | DMG: 9 | ACC: 4 | AA | EVA: 4 | REC: 2 | LD: 4 | FLN: 4 | PARA-V Kiyabu Hisao | HP: 100/200 (+100) | EN: 53/43 (+20) | DMG: 8 | MIT:30 | ACC:3 | KEEN: 1 | EVA:1 | BH:2 | LD:1

After landing the initial strike, Kiyabu skillfully put some distance between himself and Vigilon, his mind already calculating the next move. He wielded his trusted dagger with practiced ease, its familiar weight a comforting presence in his hand. The arena was a crucible of tension, every second stretched taut with the potential for triumph or disaster. As Kiyabu prepared for another swift assault, he heard the panicked voice of his opponent, Vigilon. The words were fragmented, tinged with fear and confusion, as if Vigilon had glimpsed something beyond comprehension. But Kiyabu knew he

While waiting for his introduction from the gracious host, Kiyabu took a long, refreshing sip of his water, trying to stave off the oppressive heat that enveloped the arena. “Sweet Christ.” He muttered under his breath, feeling the stifling warmth seep through his leather armor. “If I had known it would be this hot, I might have crafted some gear that wouldn't absorb so much heat.” The armor clung to him, each contour a reminder of the sweltering conditions, but he pushed the discomfort aside as he heard the booming voice of Kindling announce his entry. A slight smirk played on Kiyabu's l

“You're entirely not wrong about these boons gifted to us from the gods on high.” Kiyabu acknowledged, his voice resonating with a blend of respect and determination. The gifts of the divine, whether manifested as strength, speed, or insight, were powerful tools in the hands of those who knew how to wield them. “But I'm going to put them to good use in our duel.” With these words, he pointed his trusted dagger towards his opponent, an extension of his will and intent. The gesture was followed by a theatrical bow, a nod to the chivalry and honor that underscored their combat. “As for Lady

In his immobilized state, Kiyabu was left with no choice but to listen intently to the quiet muttering of his opponent, Vigilon. The words were fragmented, a cryptic monologue that hinted at inner turmoil. ‘What's this guy mumbling about not letting a connection be severed?’ Kiyabu wondered silently, trying to decipher the meaning behind the disjointed speech. But as Vigilon’s mutterings became increasingly incoherent, Kiyabu sensed a shift—a dark foreboding that seemed to seep into the very fabric of the arena around them. Suddenly, Vigilon's usual crimson gaze was replaced by a void, an

After recovering from the adverse effects of his challenging time on Floor 29, Kiyabu felt a renewed sense of purpose and creativity coursing through him. He prepared himself for a grand and honorable display of his artistic talent, choosing to showcase his skills in the field of tailoring. It was a craft that demanded precision and imagination, and Kiyabu had poured both into the creation of his own silk fabric tunic. The tunic was a testament to his craftsmanship, a garment that spoke of elegance and dedication. Its design was a harmonious blend of tradition and innovation: a light blue

Due to his own misstep, Kiyabu found himself vulnerable, a rare lapse in his usually meticulous approach to combat. His opponent, Vigilon, seized the opportunity with relentless precision, delivering a swift yet burning slash that cut through the air with an audible swish. Kiyabu felt the blade's edge slice across him, a searing pain that was as much a testament to Vigilon's skill as to Kiyabu's momentary error in judgment. But the attack was more than just a physical wound; it carried within it a sinister magic, a dual-edged curse that manifested as more than a singular status effect. Ki

With a sense of foreboding permeating the air around them, Kiyabu felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a tangible force. The arena, usually alive with the roar of the crowd and the clash of combat, seemed eerily silent, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the impending confrontation. Kiyabu knew he needed to keep his wits about him, to stay focused despite the tension that crackled in the air like a brewing storm. His opponent, Vigilon, was known for taking the initiative, often striking first with a precision that left little room for error. Kiyabu's gaze was l

Though Kiyabu intended to make a grand entrance like in the previous duels, a strange, almost ominous feeling crept over him, sinking into his very being and curbing his desire for showmanship. It was as if the atmosphere itself had shifted, heavy with an unsettling tension that clung to him like a shroud. He looked towards the host, Kindling, who seemed to gesture nervously at the Eldritch Entity overseeing this round. Its presence was overwhelming, a dark silhouette that loomed over the arena, radiating an aura of dread. “This isn’t real…” Kiyabu murmured beneath his mask, the words bar

Though his gaze was locked on the foliage in front of him, Kiyabu kept a tentative ear open to Ciela’s teasing words, their playful banter weaving through the air like the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves around them. His thoughts drifted for a moment, momentarily captivated by Perlita, the little sea otter, who was happily wiggling her tiny paws in the air. “You’re not wrong there, I guess… I was just unlucky today.” He murmured, a soft smile breaking across his face. The playful antics of the sea otter were a delightful distraction, and he felt the warmth of joy bubbling up inside him.

With the momentary reprieve of his opponent being locked down by a stun status effect, Kiyabu seized the opportunity to put some distance between them. He calculated his next move, aware of the fleeting nature of such advantages in battle. However, his plans were abruptly interrupted by a fiendish roar that filled the arena, a sound so primal and fierce that it seemed to shake the very ground beneath him. In an instant, the sweltering desert heat that had been a constant companion transformed into an icy chill, the air biting and unforgiving. “Hm!” Kiyabu's gaze snapped back to Wulfrin, e

“Yes, I believe we've kept our audience waiting long enough with our exchange of banter and mythological talks about heroes, along with our verbal teasing of Lady Luck.” Kiyabu retorted, his voice carrying a playful energy that belied the intensity of the battle. A grin spread across his face as he adopted a defensive stance, ready to engage in the spectacle that both he and Wulfrin knew their audience craved. “So let's give them what they came for—a truly spectacular Clash of Blades.” The arena was alive with anticipation, the air charged with the promise of a thrilling contest. As Wulfr