It turns out this is true. Tomioka Giyuu frequently used the softness and fluidity of Water Breathing to deflect the sashes shot at him from all angles.
After knocking away the belt attacks, Giyuu pretended to charge at Daki with full force—though in reality, he was only using about 40% of his power.
This was intentional. At that speed, Daki could barely keep up. She was forced to react, which was exactly what Tomioka Giyuu wanted.
He wanted her to feel like they were on equal footing, to keep her from growing suspicious. That way, he could slowly stall until dawn.
Sure enough, Daki was deceived and was starting to get irritated.
"Had enough hiding, you ugly bastard? Blood Demon Art: Eight-Layered Slash!"
Several pink-patterned belts wove together midair into a massive net and came crashing down toward him.
In response, Giyuu calmly sheathed his Nichirin blade and internally grumbled, Ugly? If that's how you're going to talk… I'll need to teach you some manners.
The next moment—the blade was unsheathed!
Daki's pupils dilated. She hadn't even finished blinking when Giyuu appeared directly in front of her—less than a meter away.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
Daki had no time to react. Giyuu's Nichirin Blade had already cut into her neck.
But her panic didn't last long. Daki quickly recovered and realized that her neck hadn't been severed.
"Damn it! As if you could sever my neck—get lost!"
Tomioka Giyuu just gave her a faint smile, distancing himself as one of her belts snapped out defensively.
If I truly wanted you dead, he thought, your head would've hit the floor the moment we met.
"Yes, yes… you're strong, aren't you?" Daki sneered, trying to hide her fear. "But next time, don't let me get so close… or I might just slice your neck instead!"
By now, her neck had healed, but the veins in her forehead throbbed visibly.
"Don't get cocky, you little brat!!"
With a shriek, Daki summoned more pink-patterned belts, wrapping them around her body.
Giyuu took a single step forward, blade ready, muttering under his breath, "So… you've recalled the clone that was monitoring the Hanamachi (Entertainment/Red-light District). Looks like you're finally ready to get serious."
"Blood Demon Art: Eight-Layered Slash!!"
As the belts rained down like blades from above, Giyuu exhaled deeply.
"Water Breathing, Eleventh Form: Dead Calm."
The droplets fell. The storm calmed.
Every belt that came into range of Nagi was sliced cleanly—none even brushing Giyuu's haori.
Daki stood frozen. She stared at her obliterated belts in disbelief.
What… what was that? she wondered. They just… vanished? Did his hands even move?
Giyuu, however, was sighing internally. I've been stalling for so long… even faking openings to keep her confident. But she still hesitated.
This performance is getting way out of hand. If Gyutaro realizes, I can handle it—but if Kanzaburo reports this to Oyakata-sama, I'm in trouble.
Oyakata-sama sees through everything. He'll know I've been dragging things out.
Luckily, Daki didn't disappoint—at least not entirely. She came to her senses, though instead of attacking again, she suddenly retreated several meters.
Giyuu furrowed his brow.
Then he saw it: Daki's back splitting open.
From within her body emerged a grotesque figure—emaciated, scarred, wielding twin flesh-scythes. The true Upper Rank Six, Gyutaro.
Gyutaro scratched at his face, voice hoarse and filled with derision.
"You… You didn't even realize you were being toyed with. Honestly, your brain doesn't work."
But Daki snapped back, "Brother! I could've killed him! Why did you come out?!"
Gyutaro didn't argue. He let his actions speak instead.
With a crack, the ground beneath him shattered, dust exploding outward.
In a flash, Gyutaro showed why he was Upper Rank Six.
In less than a heartbeat, his flesh-scythe was already descending toward Tomioka Giyuu's skull—just a hair's breadth away.
Thankfully, Giyuu's reflexes were faster. He twisted his sword up just in time.
CLANG—!
The blades met. Sparks flew.
Giyuu used the recoil to distance himself, blade poised to defend.
Gyutaro didn't pursue—yet. He turned and eyed Giyuu curiously, his raspy voice layered with venom.
"Hmm? You actually blocked that? That slash was meant to kill."
"Impressive. Really impressive."
His tone turned sickly-sweet as his eyes roamed Giyuu's face.
"You've got such a nice face… Smooth skin, no blemishes… not a single scar."
"Tall, lean, clean features. Bet the ladies love you, huh?"
"I hate it! I'm so jealous… I want to skin you alive, rip your guts out—make you die slowly!"
"I want you to suffer!!"
"Brother! Don't waste time on this guy!" Daki interrupted, her belts whipping forward to trap Giyuu from every direction.
"Just sit back and watch me finish him!"
"Blood Demon Art: Eightfold Belt Slash—Prison Siege!"
Belts shot toward Tomioka Giyuu from every angle.
But Giyuu stood firm, blade pointed downward.
"Water Breathing: Eleventh Form, Dead Calm."
He remained calm, unmoving. The belts never touched him—each sliced into nothing before they even neared.
To Giyuu, Daki was no different from any other demon he'd slain before.
The only opponent here who required his full focus—the only one worthy of being Upper Rank—was Gyutaro.
***
His thoughts were fleeting. After perfectly parrying Daki's full-strength strike, the water surrounding Tomioka Giyu was no longer calm—it churned with overwhelming turbulence, far greater than before. The rippling energy expanded outward, swallowing the battlefield whole.
With both hands gripping his katana, Giyu looked up at Gyutaro, a wild glint in his eyes.
"Hey," he said with a steady breath, "you're the first demon to witness this technique in its perfected state. Consider yourself honored."
"Water Breathing, Twelfth Form: Wave of Suppression!!"
In that instant, the water surrounding Giyu erupted violently. Towering columns of water burst skyward, then crashed downward toward Gyutaro and Daki like divine judgment.
Daki froze at the sight. Her eyes widened in disbelief—was this truly a human's power?
But Gyutaro was different. With a twisted grin, he stepped forward, arms spread wide, laughing maniacally.
"Hah! You're not bad at all!"
"Remember this name as you die: Gyutaro of Upper Rank Six!!"
"Blood Demon Art: Circular Blood Scythe!!"
A crimson whirlwind erupted from his arms as he spun the blood-slicked scythes in wide arcs. The whirlwind met the falling torrents mid-air—twisting, slashing, colliding.
Boom—boom—BOOM—
The sound of water and blood clashing echoed across the night. The whirlwinds shredded several water columns, but the cascade kept coming. Gradually, the relentless flood overpowered Gyutaro's defense.
With a thunderous crash, the final water column slammed into the ground, leveling the terrain in its wake.
In the distance, Tomioka Giyu stood firm, blade lowered, breath measured. Though he had perfected the Twelfth Form, its energy toll remained immense.
But Gyutaro gave him no time to rest.
From the smoke and wreckage, crimson ribbons and blood blades struck first—followed swiftly by Gyutaro, dual scythes in hand, closing the gap.
"Tch. You're really not letting me catch my breath." Giyu's voice was calm, but resolute. "Then I guess I'll have to go all out."
He inhaled deeply—and his figure shimmered.
Phantoms of his form flickered behind him, a trail of afterimages one step behind.
"Water Breathing, Thirteenth Form: Mirror of the Moon Reflecting Flowers!"
The moment he spoke, the battlefield erupted.
Daki's belts and Gyutaro's blood blades rained down—followed by a fierce overhead strike from Gyutaro's blood-drenched sickle.
But none of them touched him.
Slash-slash-slash—
Each strike passed through flickering illusions, crashing into stone and earth. With every precise step, Giyu's overlapping images followed—delayed echoes of his movements.
Though he called it the "Thirteenth Form," it was no new technique—just an advanced synthesis of existing forms, layered in flawless execution, and directed inward. The Ninth Form's agility, the Eleventh Form's calm, all channeled into fluid motion.
"Hahaha! You're a slippery one!" Gyutaro barked. "Let's see how long you can keep running!"
Refusing to let Giyu regain control, Gyutaro lunged forward and unleashed a barrage, twin scythes spinning like a hurricane.
But Giyu's face remained unmoved. He danced through every strike with quiet grace, dodging blades and ribbons alike.
"C'mon, brat! Stop dodging and fight me head-on!"
Gyutaro suddenly compressed his stance—arms flexing, foot slamming forward.
"Blood Demon Art: Leaping Slaughter Slash!!"
It was a defensive technique at its core, but Gyutaro turned it into a full-bodied assault.
Just then, Daki reacted in perfect sync. Her belts shifted from offense to containment, spiraling through the sky to block Giyu's escape routes, compressing the field.
Gyutaro's attacks accelerated. Rage flooded his expression. No matter how hard he struck, not a single blow landed. Not even a scratch.
It drove him mad.
Tomioka, still evading, knew the truth. The Thirteenth Form could endure for some time—but it wasn't perfect.
Its weakness?
It only worked when you didn't strike.
If Giyu attacked first, he'd open a gap. A single misstep would be fatal—especially against an opponent like Gyutaro, whose reflexes were sharpened by decades of battle. And worse: those scythes were laced with deadly poison.
But Giyu also sensed it—Gyutaro was getting sloppy. Irritated. Emotional.
A smirk touched his lips.
He casually said, "I've fought Upper Rank Two before. Compared to him, you're pretty weak. So this is all the Sixth Rank has to offer?"
Gyutaro's face contorted. Veins bulged. His bloodshot eyes nearly split open with fury.
"You little—!! I'll tear you apart!!"
Still dodging effortlessly, Giyu chuckled. "Oh, and tell your sister I'm not ugly, by the way. I have seven wives, after all." 💀
"WHAA?!" Gyutaro froze mid-lunge. His brain stuttered, short-circuiting in disbelief.
Then—pure, unrestrained fury.
"YOU BRAT!! ARE YOU MOCKING ME?!"
Giyu grinned. "Got him."
The timing was now.
Though Giyu kept dodging, he remained cautious. Gyutaro's perception was no joke—if he realized Giyu was preparing an attack, it'd all be over.
The Thirteenth Form was nearing its time limit.
Three seconds.
He gripped his katana tighter—and without warning, his blade turned red-hot.
Crimson Nichirin Blade—awakened.
"Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"
A serpentine dragon of water erupted from his blade.
With the last remnants of the Thirteenth Form's acceleration, Tomioka Giyu surged forward, body blurring, blade crashing forward like a tidal wave!
Gyutaro's eyes widened. His instincts flared.
Just before the red blade reached his throat—he twisted and retreated.
But the slash grazed his shoulder, slicing deep. Blood sprayed.