The domain shattered within seconds.
Black fragnts fell away like shards of a broken mirror, catching the morning light for a brief, blinding mont before vanishing. Kashimo walked through the settling debris. He was grinning, a sharp, ragged sound escaping his throat. His white robes were saturated with blood, making it impossible to tell where his own stopped and his opponent's began. His violet-ringed eyes were bright, narrowed with a look of predatory satisfaction.
Across from him, Zenin Sawara was on his knees.
A massive void occupied the center of his chest. It wasn't a wound so much as a hole, running clean through from front to back. Through the gap, the final disappearing pieces of the domain were visible. Blood poured from the opening, pooling beneath Sawara's knees. He coughed, blood leaking from his nose and the corners of his mouth.
"You were clever," Kashimo said, standing over him. "You used a vow to shift the domain's focus."
He tilted his head. "But even if you bring your beasts back to life, a broken body can't hold the domain together."
Sawara didn't answer imdiately. His chest was already beginning to knit back together. Muscle and bone reford under the intense strain of his technique, but the exhaustion was etched into the marrow of his bones. He slowly lifted his head.
Kashimo raised the Soul Split Katana. The blade caught the sun, its dark edge pointed directly at the bridge of Sawara's nose. Sawara watched him for a beat, then slowly closed his eyes.
Suddenly, Kashimo's movent stalled.
His arm began to tremble. His blade dipped. A thick stream of blood began to flow from his nostrils, followed by more seeping from the corners of his eyes. The red tracks ran down his face, soaking into his crimson-stained robes.
"Hah… hahahaha…"
Sawara let out a hoarse, manic laugh.
"How does it feel?" he rasped. He stood up, his chest fully nded. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the man bleeding before him.
Sawara had used a Binding Vow to alter his domain's sure-hit effect. Kashimo had guessed half of it. The vow had resurrected the fallen shikigami. But it had done more. At the cost of a temporary reduction in his cursed energy reserves, the domain had been granted a dual effect.
The resurrection of his beasts. And a direct, lingering strike on the opponent's mind.
Kashimo raised a hand to his face. Blood leaked through his fingers, staining his palm. He looked down at the dark spots on his white sleeve. In seventeen years, he had never felt a rage quite like this. It wasn't the excitent he had felt against Gojo, or the thrill of a peer like the Ogre King. It was a cold, incinerating fury that burned in his gut.
Sawara wiped the blood from his own nose, his smile returning.
"The damage to your brain is permanent," he said. "The technique is already there, eating away at you." He rolled his shoulders, steam rising from his skin as his body recovered. "My technique burnout is already nded. What about you, nobody?"
Kashimo didn't answer. He kept his head down, letting the blood drip onto the dirt. After a few seconds, he looked up.
His eyes had changed. The indifference had slipped away, leaving sothing far more dangerous behind. It was the silence before a storm, the weight of a cloud about to break. He looked at Sawara, and his lips curled into a jagged smile.
"I suggest," he said, his voice coming out in a low, dangerous grate, "that you bring out your strongest beast now."
He leveled the Soul Split Katana again. The blood was still wet on his face, but his expression was colder than the steel. "Otherwise, I'll cut you where you stand."
Sawara didn't waste ti with words. He arched an eyebrow as his shadow churned. Agito erged from the dark, its massive, muscled fra standing at his side. Kashimo didn't wait. Blue-white electricity snapped and hissed around his body, the air itself turning acrid with the sll of ozone.
He launched himself forward.
The ground shattered. He was a streak of lightning, slamming into his opponents with the force of a thunderclap.
Steel t flesh. Fists t bone. The two n blurred across the path, every collision leaving fresh scars on the earth. The Soul Split Katana carved black arcs through the air, while Kashimo and Sawara traded strikes with a primal, desperate intensity. Neither gave an inch.
Kashimo took a punch to the shoulder to drive an elbow into Sawara's ribs. He swung for Sawara's head, only for the man to duck as the blade sheared through a lock of his hair. They tore into each other like starving animals.
Agito lunged from the side, its massive fist descending like a hamr. Kashimo caught the blow on his blade, the impact vibrating through his bones. Sawara took the opening, driving a knee into Kashimo's stomach. Kashimo groaned, responding with a slash that took off half of Agito's arm before he kicked Sawara back.
It was a frantic, blood-soaked dance of lightning and steel.
Suddenly, the Piercing Ox erupted from Sawara's shadow.
It ca out of nowhere. The creature slamd into his right side, a mass of muscle moving too fast for him to react. It was too fast for him to pivot or block.
The ox's horns caught Kashimo's right arm. The bone snapped and the at tore as the horn buried itself in his shoulder. The beast's montum didn't slow. With a violent, jerking motion, it ripped the entire limb from the socket.
Kashimo's arm spun through the air, his fingers still locked around the hilt of his sword. Blood sprayed in a wide, dark arc across the mountain path.
He stumbled, but he didn't fall. Gritting his teeth, he reached out with his left hand and snatched the Soul Split Katana out of the air before it could hit the ground. He skidded 5 paces back, his right shoulder a geyser of blood. He stood there, half his body soaked in red, and used the blade to steady himself.
The Ox landed where he had been standing, its breath heavy and its horns stained with his life. Sawara stood behind the beast, a look of triumph spreading across his face.
"One hand left," Sawara rasped.
Kashimo looked at his empty shoulder, then back at the man and his beasts. The blood continued to pool at his feet. He licked his lips and tightened his grip on the sword.
"That's enough," he said. His voice was quiet, but it carried through the wind.
Above them, the clouds began to coil, and the lightning within them began to roar.
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A/n: 700 power stones = 1 bonus chapter. We're so close, don't forget to vote with your power stones!!
For early access to 15 chapters ahead: p@tre~~/Demonic_Fiction (Link is in the synopsis and my profile).
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