The oppressive darkness, stone warriors, and wretched little demon faded away and was replaced by beaming sunlight, a boundless ocean and sandy ground. Tomaru sheathed his sword, finding that just as Skallagrim had promised, his injuries were healed and of no consequence. He stood on the lip of the basin, his white and crimson kimono flowing gently in the soft breeze. The smell of salt and sulfur filled his nose, and he could tell from the odor -- and the ominous bubbling -- that he would want to avoid contact with it if possible. He glanced for a moment off into the horizon, that empty blue void that seemed just as oppressive as the darkness he had previously fought in. How small and insignificant this tiny island was compared to the vastness of this eternal ocean; and how small and insignificant the ensuing battle would be compared the the entire history of this sandy protrusion. [i]All ambition must be tempered with humility.[/i] The words of his master resonated in his head, called forth by the beautiful, yet humbling scenery before him. However, this thought seemed comforting to Tomaru. How could a being as small and insignificant as him hope to have any effect on history? These things were not for mortals to worry about. All a mortal can do is live. And right now, Tomaru was choosing a life of battle. He smiled and waited for his opponent.