The atmosphere in the hall changed suddenly.
It wasn't just a feeling… it was something tangible pressing on every body from all sides.
At the moment Akaza's expression shifted and his voice came out with a serious tone, it was as if the air itself had vanished.
A heavy sensation poured into the place, as if the air had become ten times heavier, and breathing turned into hard labor that required effort.
The wooden floor beneath everyone's feet gave off faint creaks, and it was even clear that the floor beneath Akaza's feet had already cracked.
As for the walls, they seemed to lean slightly inward, as if the entire hall was being pulled toward a single center…
"Ieeek…"
Sanemi felt that wave first.
The hand that had been holding his sword steadily just moments ago began to tremble—an instinctive physical response to the presence of a terrifying being.
Even the instincts Sanemi had relied upon all his life told him only one thing:
"You will die."
He tried to swallow, but his throat was as dry as the desert.
The eyes of the other Hashira moved unconsciously toward the source of that crushing pressure. The Insect Hashira felt her body become heavier… she felt like she had become part of the atmosphere Akaza had created.
She gripped her sword again, but this time because of the overwhelming sense of threat.
The air around her had turned cold in a way unlike normal cold—cold that carried the dread of death.
And among the silence of the room, there were two people smiling with ease.
The Flame Hashira's face was lit with an expression of pure enjoyment, as if he had finally found something truly exciting, while the Love Hashira's face was filled with complete astonishment.
The Serpent Hashira and the Stone Hashira kept their expressions utterly still, without a single twitch.
Rengoku, despite his rare bravery, could not stop the smile from appearing on his face.
He had seen countless monsters and mighty people, but he had never seen an aura that made his heart slow its beating in such a way… as if his body were trying to preserve its energy for something greater to come.
As for Obayashi -sama, the leader of the Hashira, he remained still in his place, but his eyes tracked every subtle movement in Akaza's body.
He did not speak a word, but he knew this man was not here for a mere game.
Akaza stood tall without bending or tension, still holding Sanemi's weapon as if it were an ordinary stick.
Then, very slowly, he lifted his head slightly and took a deep breath.
That single breath was enough to make the heaviness intensify, as if every particle of air in the hall now belonged to him.
He took one step forward.
Just a single step, yet the floor beneath his feet made a muted sound, as though the wood had been suddenly compressed.
In that moment, no one needed words to understand:
The aura Akaza released was not merely a show of strength… it was an unspoken declaration that any reckless movement would mean the end for Sanemi.
The air became stifling—not because oxygen had disappeared, but because every mind was interpreting the situation as "no escape."
Even the breaths of the Hashira, who had spent their lives facing death, grew shorter and heavier.
Akaza's eyes moved slowly, meeting theirs one by one, as if weighing them, measuring their worth.
A faint, cold smile curved his lips… the smile of someone who knew he was in control of the entire scene.
> "Hashira—prepare your weapons. Ready to strike him down the moment he attacks."
True, Akaza was strong, but he was no match if the Hashira attacked together.
Still, he did not intend to retreat. Instead, he adopted a strange stance—something like that of a professional boxer—ready to pounce on the Hashira at any second.
The Hashira's fingers began to shift on their sword hilts.
The faint sounds of steel sliding from its sheath echoed through the hall.
Their gazes grew sharper, each eye searching for the first movement from Akaza.
Akaza remained unmoving, his shoulders relaxed despite his predatory stance.
His feet were rooted into the floor as though he were part of the hall itself.
There was no rush in his movements… it was as if he was savoring the sight of them tensing before him.
The Wind Hashira, Sanemi, leaned slightly forward, the muscles in his arms taut as if ready to explode.
Rengoku, despite his smile, let his hands instinctively shift into an attacking position, his eyes tracking every inch of Akaza's body, hunting for any opening.
The Love Hashira, despite her wonder, tightened her grip on her sword bit by bit, her heart pounding on the edge of danger.
The air thickened even more.
Even the sound of flames dancing in the torches seemed to fade.
Every person in the room was ready… just one moment before the explosion.
And then—
A sharp yet calm voice cut through the stillness:
"Enough."
It wasn't just a word—it was a command, one that came from Obayashi-sama, leader of the Hashira, in a tone that allowed no disobedience.
The word's echo struck the hall's walls, halting hands mid-strike and making eyes that burned with fire blink in brief surprise.
Obayashi-sama hadn't moved from his spot, but he turned his head slightly and looked at Akaza with the gaze of someone who had the authority to shatter this tense scene entirely.
His faint smile hadn't changed, but his voice carried enough weight to make even Akaza slow his breathing for a moment.
He spoke slowly, sweeping his eyes over everyone:
> "No blood will be spilled here… not until I say so."
The hall was engulfed in heavy silence, as if the air itself had stopped moving.
The Hashira's eyes were fixed on Oyakata-sama, their leader, who stood with his usual imposing presence.
Without raising his voice, Oyakata-sama posed his question in a tone that killed all pretense:
> "Why did you come here…?"
The words were few, but they were enough to double the weight in the air.
At that moment… a wide grin spread across Akaza's face.
He didn't answer right away… instead, he let a deliberate pause hang in the air.
Finally, in a steady, unnervingly calm voice, he said:
> "I want to become… a Hashira."
End of chapter
Obayashi's photo in the first comment