It was a two-man orgy of violence and hatred.

Pinpricks of pain shredded into Klein’s arm as he pushed deeper in, his flesh feeling an unpleasant numbness followed by a moist warmth that caused his stomach to roil. The kappa too was squirming, eyes widening at the realization that he was honestly going to die! But if he would, he wouldn’t die in terror, but in rage. Veins bulged out from slippery, green skin as he increased his own grip on the massive man’s throat. No longer choking, but digging, piercing, black fingernails gouging into human flesh even as the kappa’s eyes teared, face turning all sorts of colors.

Blood began to soak the front of Klein’s shirt. Sticky warmth coated his fingers.

He lost 7 HP, claws sinking into his throat. 48 HP remained.

He lost 13 HP, hundreds of hook-like teeth ripping his arm to shreds. 35 HP remained.

He lost 26 HP, a major artery rupturing, his vocal cords gone and with it the scream he didn’t know he was screaming. 9 HP remained.

Raime’s crossbow slammed into the kappa’s body, an impact that was transferred into Klein’s arm as well. He lost 2 HP. 7 HP remained.

Lugh moved in, a shadow wielding a blade that glistened in the daylight. They understood. The price of victory. The price of the outplay. His blade bit deep into the kappa’s throat, cracking against the spine with such force that a shockwave burst out on the other side, cause the cattails to bristle in counteracting winds. He lost 4 HP, his own flesh nicked by his companion’s blade. 3 HP remained.

The monster couldn’t croak. Couldn’t scream. Could only commit.

The man who would one day be a samurai drew his wakizashi back and swung again.

The monster who would never become anything more squeezed.

Klein received 11 points of damage.

The kappa’s remained affixed, even as the body collapsed back onto the ground, held in place by the arm jammed down into it.

…

And yet, Klein did not die.

Flames, golden and bright, surged out from his body, encasing him completely. In the brilliance of the combustion, Lugh and Raime could only barely make out the figure of an ashen demon crafted of flame overlaid upon their party member’s form, before just as swiftly, those flames retracted. The tendrils seeped into Klein’s body, the gold gradating into charcoal black, until all that remained where flame-like tattoos branding his two arms.

All injuries he had sustained were gone, his bloody attire the only indication of the wounds once suffered. And with that, a window unseen to all but Klein emerged before the adventurer’s eyes.

[hider=Undying Vengeance, Ashwatthama]
[u][b]Type Arms-Guard, First Stage[/b][/u]
[sub]+20% HP, +20% STR, +10% END[/sub]
[i]A set of tattoos branded upon your skin, which calls forth a flaming demon to your assistance when certain conditions are met.[/i]

[b]Retaliation on the Brink[/b]
[indent]Activates upon receiving fatal damage.  Survive attack with 1 HP, remove all status effects, and summon [Ashwatthama] with HP equal to the total amount of damage dealt to you by the attacker. All attacks and skills targeting you will target the [Ashwatthama]. Upon vanquishing the creature, recover HP equal to double the remaining HP of the [Ashwatthama].[/indent][/hider]
The remaining kappa, struck by Ames and then stabbed from the side by Ari, moved to run, but it was too late by then. Amulak’s Magic Bolt stunned him with its concussive blast, and immediately afterwards, it became a seven on one curbstomp, from which an unarmed monster had no chance of surviving. Only a messy pulp remained once the party was finished with their gruesome task.

They had won the battle, and as the encounter ended, the party would watch as all the possessions left by the creatures, their weapons mainly, pixelated into tiny orbs that swirled in the air, before converging over the bodies. The fused spheres transformed into a different shape, and once the light faded, the new objects tumbled onto the ground.

A dirt-stained loincloth and eight bronze coins.