For the first ti since appearing, Hantengu felt it.
He was being hunted.
Not attacked. Not pressured. Not resisted.
Hunted.
The crimson-eyed figure standing before him did not look like a swordsman facing an Upper Moon. He looked like a predator that had already decided the outco and was rely walking toward the corpse.
Zohakuten's face twisted.
"You bully the weak and still dare act arrogant…"
His hands rose, drumsticks clenched tight.
"You despicable creature!"
Dong, dong, dong!
The Hatred Drums thundered behind him.
Five wooden dragons roared as one and surged forward, their enormous jaws splitting open. Gale winds, lightning, and sonic waves erupted together, tearing through the forest in a storm of destruction.
Trees snapped. Earth burst apart. The air itself seed to scream.
Asuramaru raised his true form and cut forward.
Black mist poured from the sword like ink spilling into water. It expanded in an instant, swallowing the space around him and forming a dark, swirling barrier.
The combined attacks crashed into it.
Wind vanished.
Lightning broke apart.
Sound waves were smothered before they could pass through.
Zohakuten's pupils shrank.
"How…?"
His voice trembled with disbelief.
"What is that mist?"
Before he could recover, several slashes shot out from within the black barrier.
They ca from strange angles, as if the mist itself had grown fangs.
One stroke.
Two.
Three.
The wooden dragons were severed in midair, their massive bodies breaking apart before they could reach him.
Then the mist scattered.
Asuramaru stepped out of it, both swords in hand, his movents smooth and strange, like flowing water slipping over stone.
"Water Breathing—Third Form: Flowing Dance."
His footwork changed.
The distance between them disappeared.
Zohakuten had only just raised his head when Asuramaru was already before him.
The true sword in Asuramaru's other hand erupted in scorching fla.
"Hinokami Kagura—Shining Ray of Grace."
The strike descended from above.
Sun-bright fire coiled around the sword, spiraling downward in a fierce arc. The flowing steps of Water Breathing carried his body forward, while the burning force of Hinokami Kagura fell like judgnt.
The two Breathing Styles did not clash.
They completed each other.
Zohakuten opened his mouth, power gathering in his throat. He intended to repeat the sa trick as before—to release a sonic wave at point-blank range and crush the enemy before the sword could land.
Too late.
Asuramaru passed him.
A line of fla cut through the darkness.
When Asuramaru landed and turned, Zohakuten's arm had already fallen to the ground.
His other arm twisted unnaturally, the flesh warped and blackened around the wound. A burning pain spread through him, sharp and poisonous, digging deep into his body.
Regenerate.
He tried to force the missing arm back.
Nothing happened.
No—there was movent, but it was slow. Painfully slow.
The flesh wriggled, resisted, trembled.
It was as though sothing filthy had invaded his blood and was crawling through every vein, interfering with his recovery.
Even the severed arm refused to heal properly.
Zohakuten's expression finally changed.
It had never been this difficult before.
What was happening?
His body felt sluggish.
His blood felt heavy.
His senses were dimming.
Panic, ugly and instinctive, began to rise in him.
If this continued, he might truly die here.
No.
He had to retreat.
He had to regroup with Akaza. If they joined forces, they might still have a chance to kill this thing.
The wooden dragons moved at his command, dragging the mass that protected Hantengu's true body toward the open battlefield.
Asuramaru lowered his body slightly, watching him flee.
"Difficult to heal, isn't it?"
Zohakuten froze.
"And your body feels wrong too."
His face darkened. He turned his head sharply, eyes filled with rage and alarm.
"What did you do to ? My body—"
He never finished.
His blood surged violently.
Black blood burst from his mouth and splattered across the ground. His aura weakened, the hatred blazing in his eyes flickering for the first ti.
Asuramaru's voice was flat.
"You're not worthy of knowing."
He raised both swords.
Water gathered around the swords, first as thin streams, then as spiraling currents. The flow wrapped around his body, circling faster and faster until the air humd with pressure.
Not far away, Tanjiro stirred.
His fingers twitched against the soil.
Then his eyes snapped open.
A sharp breath tore into his lungs.
Heat.
His body was burning.
His heart pounded so hard it felt as if it might burst from his chest. The scar on his forehead stretched outward, spreading into a fla-like pattern that glowed beneath the moonlight.
The Slayer Mark.
Tanjiro did not understand what had happened to him yet.
He only knew that Asuramaru was fighting nearby.
Pushing himself up, he turned toward the battlefield—and froze.
Asuramaru stood there, both swords in hand, surrounded by roaring currents of water.
Tanjiro stared in disbelief.
Which form is that?
He had learned Water Breathing from Urokodaki. He knew every form. He had practiced them until his bones ached and his lungs burned.
But he had never seen this one.
What Tanjiro did not know was that this was sothing Asuramaru had created within the sword.
A form born from several Water Breathing techniques, refined and fused through his own understanding.
The currents reached their peak.
Asuramaru moved.
"Water Breathing—Twelfth Form: Water lody."
His figure vanished into motion.
Water spiraled around him like a raging dragon, elegant and violent at once. In a heartbeat, he closed the distance and appeared before Zohakuten.
The demon's eyes widened.
The twin swords had already crossed his neck.
"How…"
Zohakuten's head slid free.
"How is this possible…?"
It fell to the ground, eyes trembling with fear and hatred.
If his body had not beco so difficult to control, he would never have been cut down so easily.
As the severed head began to crumble, Zohakuten glared at Asuramaru with malice.
Losing his head would not kill him.
But with his body poisoned, sluggish, and unable to recover properly, he would be unable to fight for a short ti.
The only relief was that the true body had already been sent away.
Asuramaru did not even look back at him.
He sheathed the swords as casually as if he had just cut down weeds by the roadside, then leaped through the air and landed in front of Tanjiro.
His gaze fell on the fla-like mark spreading across Tanjiro's forehead.
The corner of Asuramaru's mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.
Then his expression sharpened.
"You were too careless."
Tanjiro lowered his head.
"I'm sorry."
"This isn't the ti for apologies."
Asuramaru's body dissolved into black smoke and flowed back into the sword. The true sword flew through the air and landed in Tanjiro's hand.
"That thing won't recover for a while. Kill the true body first."
His voice echoed in Tanjiro's mind.
"The true body fled behind you. It's probably heading for the train to eat the passengers and regain its strength."
Tanjiro's eyes widened.
The train.
The passengers.
He had already missed one chance.
He would not miss another.
He grabbed the fallen nichirin sword from the ground and rose with one sword in each hand.
"I won't let that happen."
All hesitation vanished from him.
There was only one thought left.
Kill Hantengu.
"Asuramaru," Tanjiro said, "help activate Demonization."
"You really do enjoy ordering people around."
The complaint was sharp, but Demon Power flowed into him all the sa.
The change was imdiate.
The Slayer Mark burned hotter.
Demon Power surged through his limbs.
The two forces layered over each other, one blazing from his body, the other roaring from the sword. Tanjiro felt every muscle tighten, every breath deepen, every heartbeat drive power through him.
He kicked off the ground.
The earth cracked beneath his feet.
His body shot through the forest like an arrow loosed from a war bow. Trees blurred past. The night wind struck his face like a whip, but his eyes remained fixed ahead.
His speed had gone beyond human limits.
In monts, he broke through the treeline.
There.
Hantengu's true body had escaped the forest and was staggering toward the train.
The old demon's tiny body had swelled and changed, but his terror remained the sa. He ran with desperate, crooked steps, muttering to himself as saliva dripped from his mouth.
"Humans… humans…"
His voice was hoarse with hunger.
"Zohakuten used too much of my strength… He was defeated… I must eat humans… I must recover…"
Near the train, Zenitsu and Inosuke spotted him at the sa ti.
Both drew their nichirin swords.
Zenitsu's face went pale, but his grip did not loosen.
Inosuke lowered his boar mask, twin swords raised, his body tense.
Behind them, the passengers saw the demon lurching toward them through the wilderness.
Panic spread through the train at once.
"What is that monster?!"
"Are we going to be alright?"
"Should we run?"
"Those two samurai don't look like they can hold it off for long…"
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
User Comments
0 comments from readers