Ayumu slowly heaved Kaze towards the crowd. Pale, light blue faces contrasted against the bright red shrine behind them. Ayumu took the bandages from Yukina's hands, sharing the slightest glance at her eyes. The small moment of eye contact expressed so much more than he could've ever spoken.
"I'm glad I found you again,"
Ayumu unravelled the bandage roll. Kaze put his hand up. His eyes squinted, like many others, glued to Ali and Eira. However, he was the only one to catch Eira's small movements.
A deep ambivalent reaction simmered in most people's stomachs. An equilibrium between relief that Eira was somewhat apprehended, and a deep worry of what would come next. It was clear that Ali was on their side, yet, the embedded fear that he'd turn on them and rip them to shreds never left their minds.
Blood leaked out from Eira's twisted and shattered nose bridge, sharp pain erupting immediately when she tried to inhale through her nose. She gasped for air through her mouth, sharply intaking desperately needed oxygen. Even through her blurry and clouded vision, she could make out Ali reeling his fist back again.
The punch had disoriented her to the point where she couldn't feel any sensation except for a constant tingling. Her nerves wouldn't respond to her wishes to move, completely subjugated and forced to watch Ali's monstrous fist roar towards her. Her hand habitually tightened on the hilt of her sword. The first remnants of control were returning, but nowhere near fast enough to evade or block Ali.
Ali's knuckles smashed against Eira's jaw. The atmosphere vibrated from the deafening impact. Her brain slammed against his skull violently, once again triggering flashes of bright colours, only comparable to the most intricate kaleidoscopes. The combination of sharp physical agony and overstimulation reset her recovery. This time, the bright flashes of colour remained, isolated to where everyone was positioned, almost as if they replaced her usual perception of colours. Were his strikes scrambling her perception?
No. It was something else. Ali's regular and dull grey had exploded and bloomed into the most beautiful symphony of colours she had ever perceived. Turquoise, like the brightest gem found in the sea, kissed and meshed with a soft lavender purple, in the centre of a mosaic of greens, blues, and yellows. All together, but at the same time isolated. Her mind scrambled itself trying to perceive all the colours simultaneously. Her eyes refocused fiercely as he stared at the bloodied Ali in front of her.
Above the agony and overstimulation lay the single aspect of the fight that made Eira want to crawl out of her skin and light herself on fire. The humiliation that stabbed at her as she felt the countless burning gazes on her, her allies, her friends, her team, watching as she was beaten by the very demon they set out to kill. Where was their shame? Where is her assistance?
Frustration flooded her, erupting from the depths of her stomach like a volcano; her eyes widened and burned with an unmatched vigour. Her skin prickled with overwhelming unease and humiliation. The Ice Hashira let out a loud and guttural screech, the shrill boiling in her throat. The accumulation of fatigue and exhaustion subsided in the presence of Eira's unrelenting, seething annoyance.
Her sword hand scorched upwards aggressively, the blade's icy cold metal a stark contrast to the boiling blood in her veins. A boiling icy front swept across the entire forest.
Ali swiftly reacted to the sudden attack before others had even registered it. He released his grip and blasted her backwards, a strong stream of wind thrusting her backwards. Eira flew backwards. She grunted as she got a grip on herself. She controlled her spin and landed onto the floor, digging her heels into the soft soil. Among the gust that shoved her backwards was the strong scent of Ali's wounds. She poured the entire reservoir of strength to stay planted on the ground.
Her arms hoisted up to guard her eyes from drying out. Even now, her perception hadn't returned to normal. Every one of those filthy traitors was too colourful for their own good, behind Ali as if he was their protector.
Strangely, however, she felt as if Ali's monstrous punches to her face had cleared her head. The ringing, which accompanied the large aches that pierced through her head, sounded like a melody. Singing instructions. The wind continued to drag along her face, slightly wavering in strength.
Immaturity.
She could feel it in Ali's Blood Demon Art, nowhere near the perfection and precision that Akaza wielded. It was young and full of flaws.
The winds steadily decreased in power, and her eyes widened. Her body flickered with a rush of adrenaline, and her brain throbbed intensely. Could it be that Ali's Blood Demon Art correlated with his breathing? Could he only hold his gusts of wind for as long as he could 'exhale'? In that instance, the best window for a counter would be when he had to pause to 'catch his breath'.
Within a few seconds, the strong gust of wind evaporated into a weak breeze. Ali stood there, his trembling arms still suspended forward, the slight shine of sweat coated his face. His body aching from the wound that didn't heal. He could feel his strength leaking out alongside his blood. The regeneration wasn't fast enough to even the ground, Eira seemed to only increase in ferocity. Was he really the demon here?
Eira's shadow covered the forest, one could swear her light blue eyes were glowing. A microsecond was all it took for her to react. Within that microsecond, her brain burned like it never had before, she surveyed her surroundings and manifested it into a masterful battle tactic.
She had the same epiphany Ali had in his bout with Kaze. For so long, vicious, blind, rage-fuelled advances worked completely fine for her. But now, she had to deploy intelligence in the same magnitude as speed, power and strength.
Ice Breathing. Sixth Form: Cold Front.
Her blade tore through the air, a powerful manifestation of her slash emerged from the atoms and screeched through Ali. The air bent around the flying slash as a warning of its intensity.
Ali's first instinct was to leap out of the way, but he quickly realised the implications. Eira had presented him with two choices. Either face the attack head-on, or evade it and let it travel to the crowd of amateur slayers behind him, the only one capable of blocking the currently injured. She wasn't afraid to exploit the meaningless lives of those who betrayed her.
Ali's jaw clenched, he violently swung his fist, and clashed right into the centre of the ferocious air slash. The sharp force ripped into his fist, scraping the skin of his knuckles before dispersing into thin air. Behind him, the crowd gasped, some out of fear, others out of shock. Kaze grabbed at his sword, but his entire body winced at the pain. Ayumu put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.
"Patch him up," Ayumu's eyes glanced at Yukina, his whisper soft, accompanied by the bandages in his outstretched palm. He stepped in front of the limping Kaze, offering a small but steady look back at him.
Kaze didn't rebel. Instead, he offered a grin of solidarity and respect to the boy who displayed so much courage.
Injured, exhausted, and afraid, yet, Ayumu didn't falter.
At the forefront, Eira's mouth contorted to a scowl as she watched the 'noble' actions. Both from Ali's decision to guard the slash and Ayumu's courageous initiative. Her soul increasingly bubbled with envy and rage. An unbearable urge to make them regret their decisions surfaced. Ali's body heaved up and down with heavy breath. Currently, he didn't have energy to waste. He needed to play smart, conserve it for when it mattered.
Eira brandished her sword in the air, letting it spin rhythmically. Without warning, her fingers wrapped around the hilt and thrust the sword forward. She made three powerful swings. Slashes, all curving in different directions, they all homed into their target, not onto Ali, but onto the crowd behind him. It was impossible for him to stop all three.
"I got it!" Ayumu shouted, his outburst a signal to Ali. Immediate trust was established with no hesitation.
Wind roared into the surroundings. Ali launched forward towards Eira, his fingers coiled tightly in his palm. Screams and shouts erupted from the petrified crowd as the slashes flew towards them. Ayumu leapt into the air, flailing his sword at each of the slashes, blocking them consecutively.
Before he even dropped down, he shouted.
"Disperse into the forest! Go!" Ayumu commanded, faint hesitation in his voice. Like all leaders sometimes, Ayumu wasn't sure if it was the right call, but he knew it would minimise casualties; that was all he wanted.
Eira mirrored Ali's powerful charge, pushing off the ground and sprinting towards him. As he grew closer, she thrust his sword forward as if she was fencing. Ali was forced to duck downward. He spun his body and swung his fist at her torso. Eira jerked her body backwards as the rough winds grazed her haori.
Ayumu's feet met the soil again and he assumed a strong stance once again. His eyes were full of determination as he heard hurried footsteps retreat into the forest behind him.
Eira swerved left skillfully as Ali unleashed a powerful blast of wind towards her. Before her next move, her eyes darted to Ayumu's steadfast stance in front of the shrine. His resilient eyes made her blood boil. Did he really think he stood a chance of guarding her if she really wanted to kill them?
She didn't care for those traitors above using them to misdirect Ali, but now that her ego had been bruised by Ayumu's simple action, her pride wouldn't let it slide. But as much as she would've loved to sprint into the forest and hunt them down to torture Ayumu, she couldn't. Not with Ali here. She took a deep breath and steadied her body, twisting her body to prime her attack.
Ice Breathing. Tenth Form: Snow Devil.
Eira erupted in a rough and powerful spin. Like a tornado, she exploded with power, footwork maintaining the speed. Her sword loosely followed the asymmetrical spin; at times it was slow, at times it was fast, but consistent all the same. Almost immediately, Ali halted as Eira quickly tilted and began to move towards him. The swings came every half a second; he swerved, weaved and ducked under the intense offensive strikes, seemingly random, but extremely effective at restricting him. If he stopped in dodges to leap backwards, Eira could easily get at least two slices in. Two more than he could afford in his current state. He clenched his jaw as he continually tried to move backwards.
There was a reason Eira chose the Tenth Form. Traditionally it would be performed differently. But she had repurposed it on the spot to function for her specialised motives.
Amongst the constant humming of Eira's blade in the air, loud clashes of metal pierced Ali's eyes like gunshots. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Where were they coming from? In the midst of his thought, he narrowly missed his chest being slashed again.
Ali stared at the blurred spinning figure in front of him, following the blade, and realising the fluctuating speed. Her spin served two purposes, the 'slow' part of her rotation was aimed to keep Ali at a distance, but as soon as her sword wasn't pointing at Ali, she accelerated her spin to unleash a flying slash.
Brutal and continuous attacks flew wild and reckless, all twisting and turning, accelerating towards Ayumum's general area. He grunted loudly, launching himself in every direction, desperately guarding the retreating slayers from the onslaught. He could still hear the leaves crunching under their feet, they weren't far enough.
He felt like a dog forced to play fetch, his breath growing rougher by the second as he dashed around like a kite in rough wind. He wasn't to get all them, some whizzed past him and whistled into the forest. He prayed none of them caught the escaping crowd. He prayed they hit a tree instead of a human.
For now, Eira was effectively attacking, defending and exhausting Ali and Ayumu simultaneously. Not for long.
Ali placed a large gamble on the fact that Eira wasn't stably grounded in this form. He completely halted, flexing all his muscles; his brightly glowing crescents pulsed with vigour. The atmosphere went still for a millisecond, and just before Eira's cold blade met his shoulder, the air detonated with wind. Ali was the epicentre of the explosion, in every direction, gusts shoved and dragged anything they caught. Dirt flung into the air, and more importantly, for what felt like the thousandth time, Eira was airborne, forced backwards. Ayumu, who was in the air at the time, was caught alongside the wind, being pushed into the dense treeline.
The explosion was quick to subside, but left behind a slight crater beneath Ali, and a fog-like cloud of dust and dirt, heavily obstructing their sight.
Ali stomped his foot down fiercely. A powerful breeze, almost like a wall falling perfectly face down, caused all the dirt to immediately drop to the ground, clearing the area in a millisecond. Soft breezes followed. Eira was nowhere to be seen. Ali's jaw clenched as he panted heavily. He grunted as he pushed through the agony, his eyes sluggishly searching the bushes. She couldn't have hidden that quickly, right?
Ayumu burst out of the forest on a completely different side. The shrine was far away from him. Anxiety filled Ayumu as his eyes failed to see Eira. A deep, unsettling, impending sense of danger prickled at his neck, a cold sweat breaking out on his face immediately.
His eyes darted left and right, meeting horrific sights no matter where he looked. The corpses of Arata and Chiyo had mangled into the branches of different trees, dirt and splinters covering their wounds. The demon slayer that Eira had killed, her limbs tangled and lodged between the fencing of the shrine. The mutilated bodies were reminiscent of Akaza's horrific, injured state when Eira unleashed her Eleventh Form.
Ayumu's eyes widened. His heart thumped loudly. His head almost snapped at the speed at which he looked upwards.
"The sky!" Ayumu's voice boomed, cracking as fear riddled in his throat. He had a right to be scared. Eira was floating in the sky, her ascent at its peak, completely visible against the now almost blue sky.
Unlike previously, a tree wasn't being thrown at her. And nor was Ali in the state to do so. This time. Eira would successfully rain down the blizzard onto the tumultuous battle and meet the conclusion she desperately yearned for. Ayumu, Ali, her attack would cover enough area to target them both. As her ascent slowed, she reached optimal height. Eira lifted her sword above her head in a way that was almost presented as graceful.
Ice Breathing. Eleventh Form: Winter's Conclusion.
Ali and Ayumu braced themselves. Their skin prickled, trickles of chills slowly dripped down from the sky like snow, echoing the chills throughout their entire body. At the very least, all the slayers had to be at a safe distance to escape. Eira sliced the air in front of her, swinging her arm downwards. It was the only swing they were able to see before her swings transformed into an indecipherable blur.
Slashes began to pelt down like bullets; wherever they hit, dirt bounced upwards. Hundreds of craters formed as the merciless blizzard stormed down upon the battlefield where Ali and Ayumu stood.
Instinctively, Ali tensed his legs and immediately began to dash left and right. Twirling, pivoting and switching directions as if he were performing an intricate dance. For the most part, his wounds had stopped bleeding and were now in the process of closing up. Exhaustion quickly took over Ali's mind and physique, it clawed at his thighs, core, calves and feet. He had to remain extremely focused, he was barely able to feel the slashes enough to evade. He dodged narrower and narrower every time, able to feel them whizzing past his skin.
His brain pounded with violent flashes of his life. Stills of important moments, shots of memories he didn't even know existed. His human life and his demon life. His mind desperately fed these memories into him as motivation, a final and desperate attempt to push Ali past this.
He missed Asumi. He wanted to look at the flower in his pocket now. Make sure it was safe.
Ayumu was in an even worse situation. He should've stayed hidden in the forest, under the cover of the trees. Instead of evading the onslaught of attacks like Ali, he had foolishly chosen to block them. Within the first few seconds of swinging his sword, he regretted it. He regretted his life. Every time his blade clashed with a slash, he felt like he was slamming his sword against a train, racing towards him. He couldn't do it. The muscles in his arms burned with damage and fatigue. He could feel rips in his muscles, only increasing in abundance. He couldn't do it. Tears began to blur his vision as his swing inevitably slowed.
He knew this was the end. The next clash against his blade felt different. The strain was too much. His grip was strong, but his sword position wasn't, he let the blade flicker in strength, and as a result, the force overpowered it. His sword shattered, breaking into multiple fragments, the slash was mostly weakened, but whizzed onwards and scratched along his face, cutting deeply.
In that moment, Ayumu had already accepted his fate. He held the hilt of his sword tightly, watching the fragments of metal hover, slowly dropping in slow motion. His eyes glanced up at the silhouette of Eira, suspended in the sky. It looked like she had multiple arms with how fast she was swinging. Like a cruel angel, raining the punishment of heaven down to the Earth.
In that moment, Ayumu closed his eyes softly, a tear rolling from the edge of his eye and down his cheek. He wished that in his next life, he would at least live long enough to open a udon restaurant, or even a stall. He was happy with whatever. He wished he could've opened one in this life, but it was mercilessly cut short.
In that moment, Ayumu held his head high, the static of battle being pierced by the soft whistling of slashes that etched closer and closer. His body was seconds away from being torn into shreds, left in a puddle of unrecognisable flesh.