When Tomioka Giyu unleashed Raging Surge once more, his arms were trembling uncontrollably.
The interwoven hues of pale blue and gold still shimmered sharply, but the strike was weaker than before. Using the Twelfth Form twice in a row, combined with several uses of Dead Calm to block the icy attacks, had pushed his body to the brink. His chest wound continued to bleed, soaking through his deep-blue haori. Every breath he took sent searing pain through his lungs.
"Still forcing yourself to stand?"
Douma's voice dripped with mockery. He dodged the weakened strike effortlessly, his fingers gathering frost into three sharp icicles. They shot forward with lethal precision, aimed straight for Giyu's shoulders.
"Just be obedient and let me eat you. Then you can be like me—immortal forever…"
The moment the icicles pierced his flesh, white-hot pain flashed through Giyu's vision. Darkness flickered at the edge of his sight.
Gritting his teeth, he swung the back of his sword at Douma's wrist, but Douma moved easily aside.
Douma's foot lashed out, slamming into Giyu's abdomen. The impact threw him backward, crashing hard against a pine tree. A metallic taste flooded his mouth, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Tomioka-san!"
From nearby, Kocho Kanae cried out in horror. She tried to rush to him, but the freezing energy in her body bound her in place. Even standing was agony. All she could do was watch as Giyu collapsed into the snow.
Douma walked toward him at a calm, almost leisurely pace. His snow-white monk's robe was splattered with black blood, yet his smile remained gentle. "Don't struggle anymore. It's meaningless. Beings as weak as you only exist to become our food."
He raised a hand, ice forming once more at his fingertips. "Still, I should thank you. Your Breathing Techniques are fascinating. Once I devour you, perhaps I'll learn something new."
Giyu pressed his hand into the snow, fingers clawing deep into the frozen ground as he tried to push himself up.
Through his blurred vision, he saw Kanae's worried eyes—and a flicker of a memory struck him.
No. He couldn't fall here. He hadn't saved her yet. He hadn't changed their fate!
Fueled by sheer willpower, Giyu forced himself to his feet and gripped his Nichirin Sword once more. His breathing was uneven, ragged—his golden aura from the Breath of the Sun now dim and unstable. Still, he raised his blade into position.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
The blade moved slowly, but with unwavering resolve, cutting toward Douma's leg.
Douma hadn't expected him to counterattack. He sidestepped quickly and retaliated, sending another icy blade thrusting toward Giyu's throat.
At that exact moment, a faint green flash split through the fog from behind Douma—blindingly fast, aiming straight for his neck!
"Wind Breathing, First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"
"Who?!"
Douma's expression twisted in alarm. He spun and raised his arm just in time, his ice blade clashing against the newcomer's sword with a sharp metallic shriek.
When he looked up, a man stood before him—Shinazugawa Sanemi.
His silver-white hair was disheveled in the wind, the scars across his face twisting with fury. The killing intent in his eyes was almost tangible.
"Wind Breathing?"
Douma smirked, intrigued. "Ah, the Wind Hashira too? How delightful! It's getting livelier by the minute."
Sanemi ignored him. His gaze swept over Giyu and Kanae's battered forms. When he saw the bleeding hole in Giyu's chest and the frozen spike in his shoulder, his fury ignited instantly.
"You bastard… You'll pay for this!"
"Tomioka! Fall back!"
Sanemi's voice rang out like thunder. He drew his second blade, gripping both in a cross stance. "I'll take care of this demon!"
Giyu tried to speak—to warn him—but his throat was too raw to form words. He slid down against the tree trunk, barely managing to stay conscious.
Kanae quickly crawled to his side, pulling out a pouch of medicine with trembling hands. She tore it open and pressed it against his wound. "Tomioka-san, hang on. Shinobu will be here soon with the medical team."
Douma's grin widened. "Oh? The Wind Hashira, hmm? Your technique is fast, I'll give you that. But in my frozen mist, even speed is meaningless."
He waved his arm, and the air thickened. Ice particles whirled around him, forming a cold, glittering fog.
"Blood Demon Art: Scattering Lotuses!"
As the mist enveloped the battlefield, Sanemi instantly felt his breath catch. The icy grains slid into his throat and lungs, numbing his insides. Each inhale burned like frostbite. His breathing rhythm faltered.
"Damn it!"
Cursing under his breath, he swung his twin swords, slicing through the mist and charging forward.
"Wind Breathing, Third Form: Clear Storm Wind Tree!"
His blades blurred, whipping up slicing winds that cut through the haze like a cyclone.
Douma didn't flinch. Ice walls rose around him, one after another, deflecting the strikes. His fingers flicked, sending ice blades flying toward Sanemi in a deadly volley.
Their blades collided in a flurry of sparks and frost. The faint green gleam of wind clashed with Douma's icy blue. Snow and shards of ice burst around them, black demon blood mixing with red human blood in the storm.
At first, Sanemi's sheer speed and aggression kept him even with Douma—he even managed to nick Douma's arm once or twice, the bright red cuts freezing over seconds later.
But Douma's smile didn't fade—it only grew wider.
As the icy mist kept gnawing at him, Shinazugawa Sanemi's breathing grew heavier and his movements began to slow.
Douma saw his chance. His ice blades suddenly curved midair, slicing across Sanemi's thigh.
"Argh!"
Sanemi grunted, pain surging through his leg, but instead of retreating, he roared and lunged forward again. "Wind Breathing, Sixth Form: Black Wind Mountain Mist!"
A pale green cyclone spun up from the ground, sweeping the snow into the air, trying to blow away the freezing mist as his twin blades slashed straight for Douma's head.
Douma sneered, voice echoing coldly, "Blood Demon Art: Frozen Lotus Prison!"
Several lotus flowers of solid ice bloomed around Sanemi. In the blink of an eye, their petals turned into razor-sharp blades, shooting inward from all directions.
There was nowhere to dodge. Sanemi crossed his swords before his chest, blocking what he could, but his shoulders and back were cut open by the icy edges. The wounds froze instantly, sending waves of pain that nearly made him drop his blades.
"Time to die."
Douma stepped in, the ice blades twisting together into a long sword that thrust toward Sanemi's heart.
At that moment, a faint but fierce golden light slashed in from the side, striking the ice sword cleanly in half.
"Water Breathing, Twelfth Form: Raging Surge!"
It was Tomioka Giyu.
No one had seen when he'd gotten back up. His face was ghostly pale, lips drained of color, yet his eyes still burned with unyielding resolve.
Gathering what remained of his strength, he fused Water, Wind, and Sun Breathing once more. The light around his sword was dim but scorching, and with one swing, he shattered the ice sword and forced Douma backward.
"Tomioka!"
Sanemi's eyes widened in disbelief. He turned just in time to see Giyu's body sway and then collapse into the snow. His Nichirin Sword slipped from his hand, sinking into the white ground beside him.
Douma looked down at the unconscious Giyu, then at the wounded Sanemi and Kanae. His smile widened into that same serene, false expression. "How touching. But unfortunately… you'll all die here today."
He raised his hand again, condensing countless ice shards between his fingers. Just as he was about to release them—
"Namu Amida Butsu."
A deep, calm voice rang through the mountains.
A massive flail crashed down from above, smashing into the snow in front of Douma with thunderous force. The ground split apart, sending shards of ice flying.
Himejima Gyomei stood there, tall and immovable like a stone tower, his prayer beads clutched in one hand and his expression filled with solemn pity. Behind him, dressed in his flamboyant haori, stood Uzui Tengen, twin blades gleaming under the faint morning light.
"More guests?" Douma's smile finally faltered. Five Hashira now stood before him—two wounded, two fresh. Even he couldn't ignore that.
Uzui flicked his hair, twirling his blades in a dazzling spin. "Upper Moon Two, your luck's run out. Facing five Hashira at once—don't you think that's a bit too much, even for you?"
Douma's gaze shifted to the east. The horizon had already turned pale gold. The first rays of sunlight crept across the snow, slow but relentless.
His expression stiffened. The one thing he feared most—the sun—was rising.
He looked down at the unconscious Giyu and the battered Sanemi and Kanae, his face twisting into mock disappointment. "Tsk. What a shame. I really wanted to finish this. But fine—consider yourselves lucky this time. Next we meet, I'll devour every one of you."
Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, his body dissolved into swirling frost, vanishing into the depths of the snow-covered mountains.
Uzui moved to chase, but Kanae held out her trembling hand. "Don't… it's useless. He's too fast. And Tomioka-san and Sanemi-san need immediate treatment."
Gyomei paused, then nodded gravely. He turned and knelt beside Giyu, carefully lifting him into his arms.
Uzui sheathed one blade and slipped an arm around Sanemi, frowning at the ice spreading from the gash in his leg. "You need treatment now. The frost poison's already spreading."
Sanemi leaned weakly against him, scowling as his eyes drifted toward Giyu's pale face. His voice came out hoarse. "Damn bastard… passing out before me… next time, I'm not letting you win…"
Kanae exhaled shakily, relief flooding her chest at last. The tension holding her together gave way all at once. Exhaustion and cold rushed through her body, her vision dimmed, and she nearly fainted—only the quick reflexes of a nearby slayer kept her upright.
Above them, the sun climbed higher. Golden light spilled across the snow, melting the frost and washing away the lingering mist.
The battle in the northern mountains was over. All five Hashira were wounded, but at least—Kocho Kanae was still alive.
In Gyomei's arms, Giyu lay unconscious, his breathing faint. His lips curled upward ever so slightly.
I did it… this time… I finally did it.