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. All ambition must be tempered with humility. 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.

"Alright you little sand monkey. It's time you said your prayers!" Andrew Jackson proclaimed as he stuck out the tip of his Freedom Brand, only to see that the environment around him changed. "Well shit" he mumbled, taking in his new surroundings. It was a beach- no, a whole desert island with nothing else on it, except for another opponent to take down. Andrew Jackson took in a breath. It was thin- unlike the place he just was, the air was not saturated with freedom. Wherever Jackson was, he was no longer in America. And yet, he felt better. A feeling of confusion ran through him as he felt more invigorated than before despite having a spear lodged into his body and poison spat at him. That was when the president realized that the damage done in the previous battle was reversed, and at his feet was his M16 completely intact and reloaded, strap, muzzle, stock, and all.

But then, the air which was certainly not free allowed the president to smell something different. A not so pleasant smell wafted by. "You still here you little mosquito?" Andrew called out. No response. Abe was gone. "Means I won't have to deal with his ass no more." Andrew thought to himself as he leaned down to pick up his gun. He checked the feed to see all the bullets inside to click it back up into the rifle. The president then double checked the gun to make sure it was all working well.

After triple checking his weapons to make sure they all worked okay, Jackson finally made an effort to look around the island for his opponent. It was then when he noticed a cute little fox boy off in the distance, apparently thinking deeply about something. "Hey" Jackson cried "Are you my opponent? If so, get yer ass over here. I ain't got the patience to wait all day."

Tomaru's ears twitched as his opponent called out to him. It seemed as though his opponent was as different from the last as the arena was. Andrew Jackson's harsh words betrayed a deep-rooted sense of honor; whereas the demon would have done everything in its power to find an advantage, Mr. Jackson issued a direct challenge that called for even terms. Perhaps more impressive, though, was the aura of righteousness that this man emitted. He was a man distinguished from a common hired sword, a man both beloved and feared, a natural born leader. All of this Tomaru could discern simply from hearing his voice; what would happen when they crossed blades?

With a smile, Tomaru faced the president and entered his Hebi stance, his right hand grasping the hilt of his katana as the pressure built up within the sheath. He slowly walked forward, considering the angle of the sun, the man's height, and several other minute variables, and adjusted the position of the sheathed sword with expert precision. The attack he had planned was highly effective when executed properly, but it required complete concentration... and it generally only worked once. He advanced with slow, even steps as he closed the distance between him and Andrew Jackson, and when he was finally within striking range he halted. There was a look of burning intensity on Tomaru's face, as if he was ready to strike if a single grain of sand shifted in the wrong direction.

"You know son" Andrew Jackson remarked "I've been in so many duels in my life it ain't hard to tell when a guy's gonna make for a quick draw. In fact, I've been shot a few times and still came out alive. Why? Because unlike the man I was dueling, I had the power of Lady Liberty on my side. And as long as she holds that torch, the stars and stripes will wave forever! Also, I'm really good at duels. Kinda surprised. Last guy hid away from me. Had to to destroy a whole building just to get him out. But you're different, and I kinda like that. But judging by the clothes you wear and that smell, you're not American, and I don't make small talk with non-Americans. You hear?" The president concluded his words with a deep breath, before noticing that his opponent was still crawling slowly on the sands, hands on his sword.

Then, just as his opponent approached, the president jumped backwards trying to clear a bit of distance between him and the kitsune. "Whoa there fella! Comin' on a little close!" said Jackson as he did a backflip, recovering midair and landing on his feet. As he jumped, the sun shined on his shoes, revealing the carving of the American flag on the sole of Jackson's loafers. It was only a carving, unfortunately and didn't feature that signature red, white, and blue. Mid jump, a silhouette could be seen floating out from Jackson's body- the silhouette of a bird. He had called upon the help of an eagle, which flew upwards spreading its wings as it soared higher up, showing its back to the sun.

"A few strategies I wanted to try. I'd say you were a good fighter. Nice knowing you though." Jackson stated as he planted the American flag on the sand over Tomaru's body. "See you partner" the president saluted.