The sound of shattering air split the silence.
The instant Yukinoshita Akira grasped his Nichirin Blade, the atmosphere around him shifted dramatically.
Monts ago, he had been like the setting sun—fading, distant, on the edge of twilight. But now… he was the dawn itself, blazing anew across the horizon.
"It seems you have quite an impressive comrade," Akaza said slowly, his golden eyes glancing toward Yukinoshita Yukino in the distance.
Despite being a demon who had slain countless humans, Akaza had sworn long ago never to harm a woman. Even now, he didn't lift a finger against Yukino, though she had just thrown Akira his sword.
In fact, her act only deepened his respect.
To Akaza, a swordsman without his Nichirin Blade was like a warrior fighting with both arms severed. And now—both of them stood complete.
At the sa ti, neither had yet gone all out.
"Of course," Akira said with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "My companions are all extraordinary people."
His gaze drifted toward Yukino.
It had been so long since he'd felt this kind of heat—this raw thrill of combat that burned deep in his veins. And it was all because of the opponent before him: the Upper Rank Three of the Twelve Kizuki.
"I'll help you, Akira," Yukino said suddenly, drawing her own Nichirin Blade and stepping forward.
"Stay back," Akira said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argunt. "This isn't a fight you can interfere in."
"Why not? I've already mastered Water Breathing. I can fight too!"
"Yukino, your talent is real—and your growth has been impressive. But fighting an Upper Rank demon is still far too soon for you."
"I'm stronger now. I'm not just so decoration standing on the sidelines!"
"Maybe next ti," Akira replied quietly. "But not tonight."
"Why?! I can fight!"
Her voice trembled—not from fear, but from frustration.
Yukino Yukinoshita had always been proud. To stand still while soone she cared for faced a monster alone—it was unbearable.
"This is a battle between n," Akira said softly, yet with unshakable certainty. "A duel between warriors. There's no place for a third party here."
"…I…"
Yukino bit her lip, the words dying in her throat.
She wanted to argue, to shout that this wasn't so duel of honor—it was life and death against a monster that could slaughter them all.
But when she t Akira's eyes, she understood.
And in that mont, Saeko Busujima's words ca back to her:
> "A good woman is one who can respect a man's resolve."
Back then, she hadn't understood what it truly ant. But now, as she watched Akira standing there—his presence radiant, immovable—she began to.
"…Don't lose," she whispered.
"Of course," Akira said, smiling faintly. "I'm the strongest, after all."
Her chest tightened at his words. But seeing his smile, even Yukino couldn't help but return one of her own.
Akaza, still waiting patiently, said nothing. He simply stood there, arms folded, watching with calm anticipation.
He was a warrior—and he respected warriors.
And Yukinoshita Akira… was one of the few humans he deed worthy of that title.
"Thank you, Akaza," Akira said suddenly.
"It's nothing," Akaza replied. "You've given the best entertainnt I've had in centuries. As a fellow warrior, you deserve the full rights of battle."
"Then," Akira said, raising his sword, "let's begin round two."
Akaza grinned wide, his tattoos glowing faintly beneath the moonlight. "I've been waiting for this!"
He slamd his foot into the ground.
"Blood Demon Art: Destructive Death — Compass Needle: Technique Deploynt!"
The earth beneath him split open, revealing a glowing pattern—twelve points of light forming a spinning snowflake-like mandala.
This was Akaza's art—his blood-made compass. It could read the fighting spirit of his opponents, track their movents, and adjust his strikes like a magnet pulling toward its prey.
Akira exhaled deeply, his breath turning white in the cold night.
"Sun Breathing—"
Steam billowed from his lips as every muscle in his body tightened, his stance lowering into perfection.
His Nichirin Blade ignited in golden fire.
The mark on his forehead flared brighter, glowing like a brand of divine fla. Even his hair—tinted red at the ends—seed to shimr and dance like living fire under the night wind.
"Destructive Death: Disorder!"
"Sun Breathing, Eighth Form: Solar Heat Haze!"
They moved at the sa instant.
A fist wreathed in demonic energy t a blade burning like the sun.
The impact tore through the forest.
A deafening shockwave blasted outward, scattering earth and leaves. Even Yukinoshita Yukino, standing a good distance away, was hurled back by the force.
She steadied herself, staring in disbelief.
The clash between them—it was beyond human. Beyond anything she could ever hope to join.
"This… this is insane…" she whispered, her eyes wide.
Across the clearing, Akaza's laughter rang out.
"Incredible! This is the kind of fight that makes my blood boil! Yukinoshita Akira—let's battle until the last drop of blood!"
Akira smirked, gripping his sword tighter. "Naturally."
And then, once more, their world narrowed—just the two of them, swallowed by the rhythm of combat.
"Destructive Death: Air Type!"
Six punches exploded through the air, so fast they were invisible—re distortions tearing through the space between them.
Akira's blade flashed, deflecting the invisible strikes one by one, his movents like flowing sunlight cutting through a storm.
"Sun Breathing, Sixth Form: Burning Bones, Sumr Sun!"
His blade spun in a blazing arc, unleashing a burst of fire that roared toward Akaza.
Clang!
"Destructive Death: Eight-Layered Demon Core!"
Eight crushing blows struck from eight different angles, colliding with Akira's flas and dispersing them in a storm of sparks and smoke.
But Akira was already gone.
Using the burst of heat as cover, he leapt high into the air—his figure glowing against the moon.
Akaza looked up, his instincts flaring.
"Sun Breathing, Ninth Form: Setting Sun Transformation!"
A single slash fell from above—swift and divine.
Steel t flesh.
A deep wound split Akaza's chest from shoulder to sternum, cutting all the way to the bone. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc.
But even as the wound tore open—
"Destructive Death: Crushing Type — Thousand Leaves Flash Willow!"
Akaza ignored the pain completely. His body twisted in an impossible motion, his fist crashing upward.
It struck Akira squarely in the chest.
Even with his guard raised, the blow sent him flying, crashing through trees as the forest roared from the force.
Blood splattered the ground where he landed.
But despite the pain, despite the bruises forming across his ribs—
Yukinoshita Akira grinned.
The real fight had only just begun.
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