"Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon, Evening Palace!"
Sssshhk!
A slash too fast to see flashed by, and blood sprayed from a thin red line that appeared across Himejima Gyoumei's broad chest.
Yet Gyoumei remained unshaken.
His face showed only fierce battle spirit and deep hatred for the demon.
"Stone Breathing, First Form: Serpentine Bipolar!"
With all his strength, he hurled both his Meteor Hammer and broad axe, the weapons roaring as they closed in on Kokushibo from two directions.
Seizing the opportunity, Shinichi charged forward, his blades flashing as he closed the distance to Kokushibo's front in an instant.
"Forest Breathing, Third Form: Thorn Stab!"
Green blade light, swift as lightning, thrust straight toward Kokushibo's face.
Six blood-red eyes continuously rotated, capturing every minute movement on the battlefield.
The dark crimson hair fluttered in the winds stirred by the Breathing Techniques of the two Hashira, yet Kokushibo's expression remained unchanged.
"Moon Breathing, Fifth Form: Moon Spirit Calamitous Eddy!"
Dark red slashes expanded outward in concentric circles as Kokushibo spun, swiftly enveloping his surroundings.
The arcing waves, interspersed with crescent-shaped slashes, formed a near-impeccable defensive technique, effortlessly deflecting Shinichi and Gyomei's combined assault.
As a swordsman honed to near-perfection, Kokushibo was not one to remain purely on the defensive.
The moment he parried their strikes, his wrist twisted fluidly, and the crimson blade—etched with countless eyes—seemed to writhe for an instant.
"Moon Breathing, Third Form: Loathsome Moon—Chains!"
Two interwoven crescent slashes spiraled together, their power multiplying exponentially as they shot straight for Shinichi's neck.
Shinichi barely managed to raise his sword in time to block it.
But Kokushibo wasn't done.
His blade flashed dark red once more.
"Moon Breathing, Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon—Incessant!"
An unrelenting storm of slashes erupted from his sword, dense and relentless, all aimed at Himejima Gyomei.
The sheer force of the attack resembled a tempest threatening to swallow him whole.
BOOM!!
Sensing the overwhelming killing intent, Gyomei stomped the ground with crushing force, cracking the stone-paved surface beneath him and leaving a deep crater.
"Stone Breathing, Third Form: Stone Skin!"
The Meteor Hammer whirled alongside its thick chain, forming an impenetrable shield around him.
CLANG! CLASH! BOOM!!
Though fresh wounds opened on Gyomei's body, his resolve remained unshaken.
The brutal clash between the two Hashiras and the Upper Moon showed no signs of ending anytime soon.
.....
Meanwhile, the other Hashiras were not faring much better.
CRACK! SHINK!
"What—?!" Tengen's eyes widened in disbelief, but before he could react further, a searing pain erupted in his chest.
His body hurtled backward uncontrollably, crashing into a pile of rubble and kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Cough! Pfft—!"
Blood sprayed from his lips as Tengen clutched his chest and forced himself stand, gripping the sole remaining Nichirin cleaver in his hand.
The other blade was slowly pried free from his neck by a pair of black claws.
Gyutaro's grin widened, his fangs glistening as if dripping with blood, his gaze growing even more savage as he glared at Tengen.
"Tengen-sama! Are you alright?!"
"Damn it! How dare you hurt Tengen-sama! I'll never forgive you!"
"Stay calm!"
As three striking figures rushed to his side, poised to charge at Gyutaro, Tengen ignored the pain surging through his body and shouted.
"Get back!! You're no match for him! Don't act recklessly!"
His purple-clad wife, Hinatsuru, was the first to reach him, steadying his shoulder with a face full of concern.
"Tengen-sama!"
Tengen casually wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
The man who usually cared the most about his flamboyant appearance was now more disheveled than any other Hashira on the battlefield, yet the fighting spirit burning in his eyes was no less intense than anyone else's.
"Tsuyuri, kunai and gunpowder bombs, give me everything. With this bastard, just cutting off his head probably won't work. Go—you, Suma, and Makio must immediately assist those kids! You absolutely must cut off that female demon's head simultaneously!"
"But Tengen-sama, your body—"
"Don't worry about that! How could someone as flashy as me possibly fall here? The most passionate and thrilling fight is just about to begin!" Tengen grinned fiercely.
"Hurry, go!"
Tengen wasted no time and immediately pushed his three wives away, directing them toward the direction where Tanjiro and the others were battling Daki.
"Damn it! You think you can just walk away right under my nose? What do you take me for!?" Gyutaro roared furiously, swinging his blood-red sickle violently.
"Blood Demon Art: Spinning Slashes—Flying Blood Sickles!"
Countless crimson slashes chased after their retreating figures.
But—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Deafening explosions and the clashing of metal rang out.
Tengen, gripping his Nichirin Blade with one hand, leaped high into the air.
Blood from his forehead seeped into his eyes, yet he paid it no mind.
Instead, his expression grew even more exhilarated.
"It's not over yet! The score—it's complete! I've finally heard every note of your hideous symphony! Prepare to die!"
"Stop spouting nonsense! Just die already!" Gyutaro snarled viciously.
...
"These damn pests! Get the hell away from me!" Sanemi bellowed in extreme irritation, his Nichirin Blade slashing relentlessly as he cleaved the Wood-Stone Dragons harassing him into countless fragments.
Yet, these dragon-like wooden creatures seemed endless, like swarms of flies, firmly trapping Sanemi in place and leaving him no opening to charge and strike down Zohakuten.
Instead, his stamina was rapidly draining.
'No! I can't keep wasting time like this! I need an opening—wait... my blood!'
Gritting his teeth, Sanemi coldly resolved to rely on his trump card—his blood.
To demons, it was an unparalleled delicacy, a supreme rarity among rare blood.
For demons, ordinary rare blood was already a hundred times more tempting than regular human blood.
But Sanemi's marechi blood? It was a hundred times more potent than even that—an irresistible feast capable of shaking even a member of the Twelve Kizuki.
However, before Sanemi could act, an unexpected figure suddenly burst into his battlefield.
BANG! BANG!
Two massive holes were blasted through the wooden dragons in front of Sanemi.
A figure rushed forward, his face a mix of excitement and worry.
"Brother!"
"Gen… Genya?" Sanemi's eyes widened at first, but then uncontrollable rage surged within him.
"Who told you to get involved?! Get the hell out of here! This isn't a fight you can handle!"
"But Brother! I want to help you!"
"I don't need it! Get lost!"
"Brother! Watch out!"
BOOM!!!
A howling bolt of lightning suddenly descended upon them from above.
Distracted and agitated, Sanemi barely had time to react—but a sudden shove pushed him out of harm's way.
Splat!
Warm blood splashed onto Sanemi's face, instantly freezing his expression in shock.
"Gen… Genya…"
Staring at the motionless figure collapsed on the ground, Sanemi's eyes widened, his entire body trembling uncontrollably as countless fragmented memories flooded his mind.
"AAAAAHHHH!!!"
A sudden, piercing howl erupted from him, as feral as a wolf's cry.
"You bastard! How dare you hurt my little brother!!!"
CRACK!!
His grip on his sword tightened so hard it nearly crushed the hilt.
Sanemi's eyes turn red, his entire body temperature skyrocketing as fury and guilt consumed him entirely.
An unprecedented surge of energy began to awaken within Sanemi.
-----------------------------
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