"You flatter me," Ryozan said, responding to Mr. Sunshine's compliment, but now the time for exchanging words was over; it would soon be time for them to exchange blows. He looked over to the coliseum as well and nodded. He could only imagine the unsung history that took place withing; how many warriors had spilled blood within those walls, and for how many was this place a grave? And yet their glory was every bit as transient as their lives, for not one of those battles was written in the annals of history. But perhaps that was what made those battles so great. Nobody was left to revel in the fighters' glory save the spirits that chose this coliseum as their final resting place. And Ryozan could feel the spirits stirring here, the thrill of battle, nearly tangible, permeating every stone and speck of dirt on the island.

The kitsune lowered his blade so that the tip was just above the ground, and began his solemn walk into their battleground. The torches that once lit the passage had long rotted away, and only a few spears of light managed to pierce through the cracks that time had etched into the ceiling. For a brief moment, Ryozan was engulfed in darkness, then as he turned a corner he plunged back into the light of the open coliseum. He supposed this is where the crowd would cheer, lauding their champion or denouncing their villain, but stone could not speak so all was silent.

Still, something was strange about this place... or rather impossible. The floor, though made of dirt, was smooth, compact, and clean; not a single trace of battle, be it blood or bones, marred the pristine ground. And every seat, though empty, was intact. Given the age of this structure, such a state was impossible. This floating island had surely endured storms and weathering, and nobody was around to clean up. But somehow the coliseum seemed to be in as fine a state as when it was built. It was as if the building itself had a soul, and it had been sustaining itself on the fighting spirit of those warriors that found -- or rather were pulled -- here over the years. 

Ryozan took his place in the center of the coliseum, then turned to face Mr. Sunshine. He clutched the hilt of Shirogami with both hands and brought it up in front of him in a guarded stance. He lead with his left foot, dragging his right a bit behind the other, and angled his body to reduced the exposed surface area. He took a deep breath, and upon exhaling, a cool white smoke came out of his mouth, a result of tiny ice crystals immediately evaporating in the warm air. Ryozan was was ready to create a story much more exciting, and much brighter, than the one he had told.