This location was already a fair distance from Kyoto, and the surrounding area was sparsely populated. Satsuki and Kikyo had brought no guards with them—by all accounts, it was the perfect setting for an ambush.
Satsuki didn't even need to speculate. With her Tenseigan, the movements of the Seven-Man Squad were never hidden from her for even a moment.
And just as Satsuki finished speaking—
Whoosh— In a blur of white, an elegant figure appeared in the clearing. It was none other than Sesshōmaru, who had been quietly training outside Kyoto, studying the Tenseiga.
Though his expression remained as impassive as ever, those who knew him could easily tell—he was in a foul mood.
And a displeased Sesshōmaru was dangerous indeed. Without uttering a word, he released a surge of immense demonic energy that rolled across the field like a storm.
The members of the Seven-Man Squad tensed at once, drawing their weapons as the crushing pressure bore down upon them.
Renkotsu, the quickest thinker among them, instinctively stepped back half a pace, raising the cannon perched on his shoulder.
Ginkotsu, Jakotsu, Suikotsu, and the newly joined Mukotsu instantly fanned out, wary of being wiped out by one of Sesshōmaru's wide-range attacks.
Kyōkotsu, less bright than the rest, charged in bare-handed just as he had during their first encounter.
This time, however, a metal jaw guard gleamed upon his face, and his movements were slightly more controlled—apparently, he had learned something from their previous defeat.
Yet even if Kyōkotsu attacked with his full strength, he would still be incapable of harming Sesshōmaru. And now, holding back, his assault was utterly futile.
—Whoosh.
Sesshōmaru vanished soundlessly, his afterimage streaking through the air. In the blink of an eye, he appeared at Kyōkotsu's flank. Between his fingers, a whip of green light flared to life, poised to tear the brute apart.
But this time, the Seven-Man Squad was prepared.
Just as the glowing whip descended, a sharp shnk sliced through the air. Sesshōmaru's golden eyes narrowed—his whip snapped backward, intercepting the incoming strike.
The attack came from Jakotsu's transforming blade, which extended through the air like a serpent.
Sesshōmaru's whip coiled around the weapon's edge, ensnaring it completely. He was about to snap the blade when the thunderous roar of cannonfire erupted from behind.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
It was Ginkotsu, the cyborg of the Seven-Man Squad, blanketing Sesshōmaru's position with explosives. The blasts were so intense that Kyōkotsu was nearly caught in the blast radius himself.
Fortunately, neither of them was particularly bright—so long as they weren't killed outright, they remained comrades.
"Gah!" (Translation: Boss, I got him!)
"Heh, he looks impressive, but he's not so tough after all!" Kyōkotsu bellowed, grinning widely.
Jakotsu, however, didn't share their optimism. He had been trying to retract his serpentine blade—but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn't budge.
"Idiots!" he shouted. "He's not dead yet!"
"What—?"
Kyōkotsu barely got the word out before a line of green light flashed before his eyes.
The streak cut straight through his massive body, splitting him cleanly in half. A cloud of virulent miasma gushed from the wound, filling the air with poison.
By the time Kyōkotsu's corpse hit the ground, it was already dissolving under the corrosive toxin.
From within the smoke and flames of Ginkotsu's bombardment, Sesshōmaru emerged unscathed. One hand still held the glowing green whip that restrained Jakotsu's weapon, while the other shone faintly with an eerie, emerald light—his Poison Claw.
"You bastard—you killed Kyōkotsu!"
In his berserk state, Suikotsu roared in fury, swinging his iron claws and charging straight at Sesshōmaru.
"Foolish creature."
Sesshōmaru's cold laugh echoed through the clearing. With one hand, he summoned a vortex of demonic energy—an infernal spiral of venomous wind that rushed forward like a tangible storm.
"What—?!" Suikotsu's eyes widened in shock. He tried to dodge, but it was already too late.
At that critical instant, a chain shot through the air, wrapping tightly around Suikotsu's waist and yanking him free from the poisonous maelstrom.
Seeing his attack thwarted, Sesshōmaru made no move to pursue, for Bankotsu was already striding forward, brandishing Banryū.
"Demon," he declared coldly, "your opponent is me!"
As their leader, Bankotsu felt no fear after witnessing Sesshōmaru's strength for the second time. Instead, he stepped forward boldly to meet him.
"So that's why you gave me such a dangerous feeling last time. Turns out you're a yōkai, huh? What, are shrine maidens nowadays all fond of consorting with demons?"
"Hmph..."
Sesshōmaru's reply was to snap his glowing whip, yanking Jakotsu through the air and hurling him straight into Renkotsu, who had just aimed his cannon at Satsuki.
Then, tightening his left fist, Sesshōmaru struck head-on against Bankotsu's massive Banryū halberd.
Strength had always been Bankotsu's greatest pride, but before a true yōkai, even power that could crush men like insects seemed feeble.
The colossal halberd—and Bankotsu himself—were sent hurtling backward from Sesshōmaru's single blow, slamming hard into Ginkotsu's metallic body with a thunderous crash.
Meanwhile, at a distance, Kikyo frowned as she watched the battle unfold.
"Lady Satsuki... who is that?" she asked.
"Ah, you haven't met him yet," Satsuki replied calmly. "Allow me to introduce him—this is Sesshōmaru of the Western Lands. For now, he's one of mine."
"Sesshōmaru? He's... a yōkai?"
"He is," Satsuki confirmed lightly, noticing Kikyo's conflicted expression. "He was also the trial that Lady Kagura of the Shrine once assigned to me."
—Though, truth be told, Satsuki had never once taken that so-called "oracle" seriously.
"A trial from Lady Kagura herself?"
Hearing this, Kikyo's doubts did not vanish entirely, but at least she restrained herself from objecting in the moment.
Sesshōmaru, meanwhile, fixed his gaze upon Bankotsu—who, though battered and bruised, stubbornly pushed himself upright.
The Banryū in his hands bore a visible crack from Sesshōmaru's earlier strike, yet its polished blade still glimmered with a cold, metallic luster.
"Hmph... so this is what a yōkai is," Bankotsu muttered, his expression twisting with bitter frustration.
As a mere human, he had relied on his own overwhelming strength and the mighty Banryū, honing himself through countless battles to reach heights few mortals could imagine.
Yet, as he faced ever-stronger foes, he had come to a painful realization—his growth had slowed, and he could feel his limits closing in.
A human body held no yōki, divine energy was incompatible with his nature, and spiritual power was something only a few were born with.
Without such forces, no amount of training could overcome the inherent limits of humanity.
Once he recognized this, Bankotsu ceased limiting his challenges to humans and began turning his blade against yōkai.
He slew and hunted them—not merely to train himself, but to prove that a mortal, even without the aid of supernatural power, could still cut down monsters.
He hated yōkai—and yet, deep down, he envied them. Why were they born with such innate power?
Then, not long ago, fate had offered him a solution.
If a human body could not contain power—then he would simply house that power elsewhere.
Struggling to his feet, Bankotsu reached into his pocket and drew out a black magatama. Without hesitation, he pressed it into the crack along Banryū's blade.
In that instant, the battlefield changed dramatically...
Boom—!
The moment Bankotsu embedded the black magatama into Banryū, an unfathomable power erupted from his body, radiating outward in a crimson shockwave so dense it seemed tangible.
The wave expanded in all directions, sweeping across the clouds and the earth. Birds flying overhead let out faint cries before falling lifeless from the sky.
Sesshōmaru frowned, his golden eyes shifting toward the black magatama embedded in the Banryū. That familiar aura instantly reminded him of his battle with Ryūkotsusei—his gaze turned cold as frost.
"That's one of the Lunar Palace's black magatamas?"
As someone from the Katori Shrine, Kikyo was especially wary of anything connected to the Lunar Palace after the humiliation they had suffered at the hands of the Wheel Yama King. The black magatama, most of all, symbolized that ominous power.
Satsuki, on the other hand, looked utterly calm—her expression unchanged, as though none of this concerned her in the least.
Bankotsu said nothing. His cold gaze was fixed entirely on Sesshōmaru.
He had already completed the black magatama's "trial," receiving the power contained within it. Yet, despite this, the seemingly reckless warrior had always held deep reservations about accepting such an alien power. Until now, he had never dared to wield it.
But facing Sesshōmaru—a being so overwhelmingly superior that even the strongest human soldier could not endure a few exchanges—he realized he had no choice.
If he relied solely on his human strength, Sesshōmaru could end his life with a single blow.
The difference between a great yōkai and the strongest mortal warrior was like the gap between the moon and a flickering firefly.
And so, the moment Bankotsu accepted this truth, his path was decided.
Now, the energy coiling around his body surged with violent intensity, instantly propelling his strength beyond the bounds of humanity—into something unprecedented.
Whoosh!
With a sound that sliced through the air, Bankotsu vanished from sight.
"He's faster now..." Sesshōmaru muttered, his eyes narrowing as his body blurred backward in a swift evasion.
Vmmm—
The Banryū's massive blade grazed across Sesshōmaru's chest armor, halting just inches before contact.
"Demon—take this! Banryū Flash!"
A crimson aura flared to life along the halberd's edge. With a spiraling motion, that energy condensed into a fierce shockwave, launching straight toward Sesshōmaru.
"Hmph. Trivial tricks."
Sesshōmaru sneered, his body twisting as he left behind a ghostly afterimage, lunging straight toward Bankotsu.
Though Bankotsu's power had grown immensely, Sesshōmaru did not believe that a mere human—no matter what borrowed power he wielded—could stand equal to a true yōkai.
And one as proud as Sesshōmaru would never retreat before a mortal's frontal attack.
A flash of greenish-yellow light burst from his hand—the Power of the Explosive Fang.
"Bakusaiga!" he roared, unleashing the weapon's energy in full force toward his foe.
BOOM—!
In an instant, the two colossal forces collided, creating an explosion of sound and energy that shattered the air itself. The shockwave rippled outward like rolling thunder.
Crash!
The ground beneath them collapsed under the backlash, cracking open in a vast spiderweb pattern that spread for dozens of meters, forming a wide crater.
"Damn... is big brother okay!?"
"I always thought he was a monster, but now—he's practically a real yōkai!"
Forced to retreat from the center of the battlefield, the remaining members of the Seven-Man Squad could only watch, wide-eyed with disbelief.
Even Jakotsu and Renkotsu, who knew Bankotsu best, were stunned. That Sesshōmaru possessed immense yōki was no surprise—but that Bankotsu could unleash a power equal to it? That was unimaginable.
"For a mere human to clash evenly with a great yōkai like Sesshōmaru... the power of that black magatama is beyond comprehension!" Kikyo's voice was grave. "The people of the Lunar Palace—to scatter such dangerous artifacts across the land—they must have a sinister purpose!"
"Even now," Satsuki said coolly, "you still believe he's human?"
But by this point, the battle unfolding before them was far beyond anything Kikyo could intervene in. And deep down, she no longer knew whose side she should stand on.
...
Boom! Boom! Boom!
On the battlefield, the two figures moved like specters—so fast that their forms blurred into streaks of light, flickering through the air in a series of explosive clashes.
To an ordinary observer, it looked as though they were vanishing and reappearing at impossible speeds. Each impact between them sent shockwaves tearing across the land. The ground, the forests, the rocks—everything they touched shattered and crumbled. In mere moments, the surrounding terrain was reduced to ruin.
"Ha ha ha ha ha—how exhilarating!"
Amid their fierce exchange, Bankotsu's laughter echoed wildly.
At this moment, he had fully realized the scope of his newfound power. For someone who had long pursued strength but found no path forward, this was more precious than gold or beauty—it was pure, unbridled joy.
For the first time, he saw a wider world ahead—a proof that the road to strength was not a dead end.
His whole body trembled with excitement. "The Lunar Palace, huh? What a wonderful organization!"
Sesshōmaru offered no response. With a slight tilt of his head, he lashed out with his whip of light.
Bankotsu sidestepped with lightning speed, spinning the Banryū in his hands like a great fan to deflect the attack before counter-slashing toward Sesshōmaru.
This time, the aura radiating from the blade was no longer just red—it shimmered faintly with golden energy.
"That scent... His sword pressure just got stronger!" Sesshōmaru muttered, narrowing his eyes.
He no longer held back. Drawing Tenseiga from his waist, he poured his immense yōki into the blade.
Seeing this, Satsuki immediately grabbed Kikyo by the arm and leapt backward, pulling her clear of the battlefield despite her startled protest.
In the next instant, lightning surged around Sesshōmaru's form, coiling into the shape of a dragon before launching forward in a roar of thunder.
"Secret Art—Azure Dragon Rend!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Sound and lightning intertwined, exploding outward with a force that made the very heavens quake. The shockwave tore through the air like the wrath of a god.
Caught too close to the blast, several members of the Seven-Man Squad were instantly shredded into fragments by the overwhelming pressure.
A deep, resonant impact followed as Bankotsu's body was hurled across the battlefield, crashing into a nearby rice field and sending a massive pillar of water skyward.
Moments later, he rose from the flooded pit—his entire body soaked, shredded, and torn as though sliced by countless blades of wind. He looked utterly ravaged.