It is hard to carry almost an entire bear with brute strength.

Thankfully, Tomoe’s on ice.

The traction is much higher thanks to the snow, but the raw floor itself is quite slippery. The fur, apparently anti-stick, is able to slide across it unperturbed. Tomoe specifically chose her path along patches of rocks. The predator’s fur stands out against the light black and blue of the spires, and so she kept her line of sight lined up with them, able to see any abnormal lumps.

Thankfully, no mishaps happened on the way back. Either the species numbered few or the smell of the hunt wasn’t a great enough temptation to strike. Hopefully it was the latter, Tomoe preferred being in one piece.

Her mouth twitched in annoyance. Walking around with sludge in your boots is not pleasurable. The snow here seemed to keep its form better than normal snow, making for an unpleasant sensation.

Tomoe’s frown became increasingly deeper. When did she become so irritable?

She stopped for a moment.

She opened her hand and clenched it.

Now that she thought about it, she used to be faster than this, better than this. Quicker wit, fantastic muscle memory, is it just an effect of her rebirth? Maybe it would subside, but should it not within the next few days it would go to the top of her priority list to fix it.

Other than that, it was likely time to train Isirith when she got back. It would increase their fighting potential, as well as give Tomoe a well-deserved rest. For most people, teaching active combat lessons would still put a small amount of strain on the body. Indeed, for most people.

Tomoe thought harder on it as she started to leave the invisible bear fields. It was difficult to determine Isirith’s weapon type. Not because of her body shape, but because of two things mainly. One, the small grippers on her hands and feet, she didn’t know how that would affect grip and movement patterns. Two, even though she had such a, dare she use the term, womanly body, her strength was completely incongruent with it. She also weighed more than she appeared. Maybe her body is more condensed? That would also explain the impressive muscle power and tension as well.

Another thing troubled her, the uncolored energy she detected.

It caused something that should not be able to happen to happen. There was no smoke in the fire despite it apparently burning, and the simple creation of water? Preposterous, the law of conservation of matter dictated that matter couldn’t be created or destroyed. Is it perhaps an undiscovered element, one that could form other structures? Then how can it be controll- you know what, I'm going to leave this to the professionals when I meet them.

This world’s technology, from what she can remember, is more primitive than her society’s advanced and revolutionary technology, but that could surely be sped along by some equations she memorized. At least, Tomoe hoped. Maybe there was a different line of advancement due to this strange matter, or perhaps element?

Ah, I’m here.

At least, she thinks she is.

Possibly?

Tomoe now starts to second doubt herself, but using a localized map (her brain) she confirmed the location.

It was the same place.

The platform, the wall, the territories, it all lined up. And yet… all her grips were gone.

As if Tomoe simply never made them, the wall upward was perfectly fine again. There were no footholds or handholds anymore. Ice didn’t grow into them, it was too pristine of a job. She could think of a few things, but the answer was in this case the truly fantastical one. It regenerated.

For a while, she had already been suspecting this place to be too artificial to be natural. This only supported her theory. Any damage that had been done had been healed. Squatting, she found a small indent, the last one she sculpted into the frozen water. A tiny bit of the impression was left, but if she looked close enough it was being filled at a rate discernible to the naked eye.

She looked at the wall. And then the bear carcass. And then her sword. And then the wall again. And then the top of the wall. And then all around her. She didn’t know whether to sigh, laugh, groan, or something. Since she didn’t know what to do, she just didn’t do anything. Except, that is, getting back to chipping. A tedious, much more unenthusiastic than before, chipping.

As with most all tasks, that was eventually done. Once at the top, she searched the straight up rampart that led to the seventh floor. While the ground beneath Tomoe was smooth, the wall in front of her had jagged stones. Finding a particularly large and sturdy one, she got out the object that would allow her to pull her stunt.

Bear intestine, a large trail of it.

It was a shoddy job, with her essentially skipping a few steps, but with fluid handiwork, she seemed to manage an uneven cord. Lots of places made use of animal intestine, especially sheep intestine in musical instruments.

Tomoe was appreciative of her fortune. The intestines of this animal were not only over twice that of a normal bear, but also rugged and strong. It did, however, take quite some time to pull the entire thing apart into strands, twist them together, and tie the edges. Bloody work, and quite slippery. Good thing that blood can be cleaned much easier from hands than clothes. Taking the hilt of her wakizashi, she opened a small cranny for the guts to be hooked into.

After pouring a bit of her canteen in the indent, Tomoe looped the makeshift rope around the nick she crafted and looked down. Before she started her ascent she fastened a sturdy series of knots to prevent the corpse’s fall. A human adult intestine is about twenty feet, while this was over twice the size of a bear. Over fifty feet of organ, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it took to digest food.

Holding one end of the cord in her hand, she jumped off the ledge. Tomoe’s entire idea was based off a simple pulley system, abusing gravity to its fullest. The supernatural quality of the organ and the tight weaving allowed it to hold the tension of the load. Though not that heavy, her hunt had been hauled up quite a significant amount by using herself as a counterbalance.

The material that acted as a belt for the simple machine slid within the groove of the stone she chose. The water turned ice acted as a great reducer of friction, and allowed for less tear on the viscera. With a much smoother than expected movement, Tomoe slipped her feet into the notches made for climbing.

Utilizing her lower body strength, she pulled the line taught and heaved downward. A step at a time, she crept down, the other body rising at the same rate.

Sweat dripped over her skin. Should have done a double pulley… She stopped for a bit. At least, I think that’s how it works. Something about work over time.

Following the passage of minutes, Tomoe was eye level with the practically refrigerated body. Now comes step two.

Her hands sauntered upward, unrelenting in the mission of stopping the cord from limping as she ascended, shoulder pressing to the fake sky. With a bit of finagling, she positioned herself directly underneath the camouflaged carnivore. Hoisting the dead creature with the makeshift leverage and her pinned shoulder hastening the process by shoving the body upward as she scaled the surface, her one lifeline groaned.

She looked down again. If she were to fall from this height from this position, especially considering her already broken bones, it would likely end in a critical injury.

Well, as they say, nothing ventured-

Tomoe lost her grip a bit, the raw flesh sagging down with enormous mass. Her body wheezed as the fragmented ribs dug into her. Steadying her breathing, she continued her clambering maneuvering.

nooooothing gained. Though I might just be gaining a death sentence, if anything.

The things stopping her drop was the woven strand and her feet in tiny uneven cubbies. It is not reassuring.

The second floor passed, as did the third. She was set to the right of the cadaver. Tomoe’s motions became much slower over the last few feet. To stop the rope from becoming loose, she had to advance away from the rock it was hitched on, along with all that she was already doing. It was bothersome.

Nonetheless, the operation continued. Sweat, bone, effort.

The bear slinked over the edge, onto the sheltered platform.

The abrupt shift in heft mangled the forces acting upon the innards, adding rigidity. In the rapid slip-second, Tomoe’s mind conflicted two choices of life and death.

If she continued holding on, it would no doubt snap. The previous wear, cold morphing the tough bowels fragile, the sudden pressure. It would be too much.

Why didn’t I think of this before!

She cursed her own stupidity. Cockiness. One of the worst traits she could possibly earn. If she could, Tomoe would bite her thumb.

The other option is to detach her grasp. It would essentially create the effect of swinging from a vine. Tomoe would then clutch onto it again from a lower orientation. This would be tough to complete, as her bicep, maybe tricep as well, is already torn from combat. The leftover swing velocity would be taxing as well.

With stern finality, she chose option two.

Her hands released.

Free falling is, in itself, an interesting feeling. Terrifying, and yet, relaxing. It is one of the few times where your sense of touch is quite weak. At instances like these, for some reason, your brain decides to gain uncanny clarity. A sense of refreshment like never before.

Glowering from pain, she reattached herself.

Her nimble fingers brushed against the rag-skin of her climbing element.

Temporarily, panic filled her bosom.

Even without her armor on, she didn’t even operate at fifty percent of her normal efficiency. There was something wrong with her, and not dealing with it early would be fatal. Her dexterity was not up to the task. She failed to grab on.

Scrambling for Orochi, her legs flailed for a solid niche. Skidding into one, her knees bent to better absorb the impact.

It was more of a crackle than a snap or a shatter.

Tomoe’s tongue staggered inside her mouth. Her pain tolerance is noticeably worse too.

Though a sacrifice, it was not a useless one. Her momentum halted briefly, an abyssal drop delayed. With a grinding slice, the blade dug a deep wallow into the ice, friction ever increasing. Rough debris flung, replacing sparks. The grating ceased. It had hit a violet lump.

The blade left her hands.

Her body relaxed. At this height,

Tomoe’s eyes narrowed with a brilliant gleam, At this height I can do it.

She waited. Waited for that one period of time. That single prompt that spoke ‘now’. Tomoe’s body, broken and mangled, reacted with a keen awareness. Now.

Her face shifted. A wince of pain, a determination for victory, a smile of adrenaline. Her feet kicked off the wall. The jump up and back wrangled gravity down. Her body flipped, ducking into a roll. The force of impact was eased over a longer distance, minimizing damage.

The momentum finally ceased as her body spread out across the floor.

Tomoe was flopped on her back, looking at the aftermath.

“Heh,”

How unusual.

“Heh, heheheh.”

She rarely laughs, and when she does not in situations like this.

“Hahahahahaha!”

It was tired, happy, relieved, excited, aching, twisting, growling, sad, euphoric. I am NEVER going to do that again.

Why did she have to do all that for a simple meal? Her calories must be screaming at her. All the energy was sapped by the frigid cave. Her eyes welled up with precious water. She bit her lip again.

Ahh, how long has it been since I've done this? Since I’ve felt such insecurity.

She is confused right now. She came to terms with who she is, but not what she is in a sense. Things that felt familiar and far meld together with a cold emotionless exterior. She still thought of herself as the invulnerable champion of her land. Now she just felt vulnerable.

Weak.

She liked feeling things. She liked feeling happy when seeing his loved ones. She liked feeling sad when hurt. She liked feeling angry when something happened. Yet all of these were in a cage, a cage that had now been shattered into a thousand pieces.

She knows who she is. She is Tomoe, a warrior birthed of the minds of an old samurai and a flaming youth. But what she is, she is not more than the sum of two parts. She is not less either. Something else. Something completely different.

She pretended to be unstoppable in her mind. To still be the same amazing harbinger of death. It made her feel safe in this new environment. It made her feel sure. This fall was merely the final strike on the chisel, shattering the statue that was Kyo. She didn't know what to feel.

Tomoe stayed there for a while. Not thinking or doing or fighting or meditating. Just nothing.

After such an ordeal, she never felt more at peace.

The harmony of the wind, of the rain, of the snow, of the rumbling. The melody of the color deviations fabricating a miracle, her breath eased. She felt nothing. Tranquility.

She shut her eyes.