Records from the Celestial Court
Elven Eyewitness Report – Day XX, Month XX, Solar Year XX
The Epoch of the Great Dying
Amidst a raging tempest in the great elven forest, I saw him.
He wore a hermit's hat, though it failed to conceal his silky black hair, tied in a ponytail with a white band that fluttered in the howling winds. Rain lashed against his chiseled face, its deep lines and subtle wrinkles adding to the cold sharpness of his gaze. His glowing purple eyes, brimming with malice, cut through the storm.
Draped in a black kimono with red and silver linings, his imposing frame was still evident beneath the fabric. Pale skin, laced with glowing purple circuits, pulsed with an aura of death. His arms, thick with muscle and marred by countless scars, bore the marks of a blacksmith—powerful, calloused hands that had long known toil and war. His legs, equally robust, radiated the athletic prowess of a warrior who had spent an eternity mastering his craft. Despite the merciless rain, the black wooden sandals on his feet remained untouched by decay.
A katana rested at his waist, its black sheath and hilt adorned with intricate dragon inscriptions. He stood tall—towering over six feet—a presence that dwarfed all around him.
And then there was the donkey.
Half of its face was bare bone, an exposed skull grinning in the storm. Its gaunt frame, though thin, emanated an unnatural strength. Thick shadows clung to its body, writhing as though alive. Its red eyes burned like twin embers in the night.
Then, as if sensing my presence, they turned to look at me.
Before I could react, they vanished. Or at least, that's what I thought.
When I awoke, I found myself bedridden. I had been petrified.
And the great elven forest… was nothing but ashes.
Thus ends my account of the Lord of Misfortune, Mundai Etakso, and his cursed steed, Mizukashi.