"Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"
A water-blue blade light condensed into a roaring water dragon, carrying a surging, overwhelming force as it poured down through the shattered roof.
Shokyū's pupils narrowed slightly.
His body paused for the briefest instant as he raised an arm to block.
"Who is it?"
Boom!
The water dragon slammed hard into Shōkyū's arm and burst into a spray of mist.
The impact forced him back several steps.
His foot came down with a heavy stomp, shattering the floor beneath him, and he withdrew from the room through the hole in the ceiling, landing in the attic on the floor above.
The thorn whips that had been binding Tengen Uzui and Yushiro were forced to loosen as well.
When the mist cleared, Giyu Tomioka stood there with his blade in hand.
Ripples flowed along the water-blue Nichirin blade, reflecting his expressionless face
He slowly lowered his sword, then turned to look at Tengen Uzui, who was covered in blood in the room below, and Kiriya Ubuyashiki, who sat calmly on the cushion.
"Protect the Master," Giyu said.
His voice was as cool as ever, but in those usually distant eyes, there was a rare trace of seriousness.
Tengen, who had just climbed out of the deep crater, froze for a moment. Then he bared his bloodstained teeth in a grin.
"You don't need to tell me that."
Giyu said nothing more.
He looked up at the hole in the roof, leaped, and chased after Shōkyū.
Shōkyū stood amid the wreckage of the upper attic, staring at Giyu as he came after him. His crimson eyes were filled with confusion and surprise.
"You? You're actually still alive?" Shōkyū's voice carried a hint of disbelief. "Yoriichi Tsugikuni should have killed you and that Sabito. I clearly saw it happen!"
Giyu did not answer.
He looked at Shōkyū without expression, holding his Nichirin blade before him as the current of Water Breathing flowed around his body.
At last, Giyu spoke, his voice still cold.
"Your question does not need an answer."
Shōkyū tilted his head, a playful glint flashing through his eyes.
"Do you think you can kill me?"
Giyu did not waste another word.
His figure vanished from where he stood, and a wave of water-blue sword light surged toward Shōkyū.
"Water Breathing, Fourth Form: Striking Tide!"
Layers of blue sword light rose and crashed forward like waves beating against the shore, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next.
Every slash carried enough force to sever steel, cutting toward Shōkyū from all directions at once.
Shōkyū gave a cold snort.
Several vicious thorn whips extended from his back, dancing through the air like tentacles as they blocked the incoming blade lights one after another.
"Is that all?"
Before his voice had even faded, Giyu's next attack was already upon him.
"Water Breathing, Sixth Form: Whirlpool!"
The blade light transformed into a massive water vortex, engulfing Shōkyū within it.
Inside the swirling current, countless sword energies spun and cut like grinding gears, trying to tear him apart.
Shōkyū frowned slightly.
He raised his arm, dark-red bloodlight gathering in his palm before exploding outward.
Boom!
The water vortex was blown apart. Giyu was forced back several steps, a thin line of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
But he did not stop.
He did not even wipe the blood away.
"Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust!"
The fastest sword form within Water Breathing.
The water-blue blade light was light and swift, like ripples spreading across the surface of a pond, yet its power could not be underestimated.
It thrust straight for Shōkyū's throat.
The strike was silent.
And terrifyingly fast.
Shōkyū's pupils contracted slightly. He twisted aside, and the edge of the blade skimmed past his neck, leaving a smooth cut in the wall behind him.
"Interesting."
Shōkyū touched the bloodstain on his neck. A hint of killing intent flashed through his crimson eyes.
Buzz.
His figure disappeared from where he stood. In the next instant, he appeared behind Giyu.
His claws, wrapped in dark-red bloodlight, tore toward Giyu's back.
"Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel!"
Giyu's body spun through the air, his Nichirin blade tracing a beautiful arc as it slashed upward from below toward Shōkyū's claws.
Clang!
The sound of metal clashing rang out, and sparks scattered in every direction.
Giyu was blasted backward.
He crashed through a wooden pillar and spat blood from his mouth.
Yet he immediately flipped to his feet and held his Nichirin blade before him once more.
Shōkyū looked at the shallow cut on his claw.
"Giyu Tomioka."
He spoke the name, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold smile.
"A dying struggle is nothing but a waste of time."
As soon as he finished speaking, the thorn whips on his back spread out like a peacock's tail, dozens of them surging forth. Every single one gave off a dark-golden glow.
"Blood Demon Art: Yomi, Thousand Thorn Piercing!"
Countless thorn whips shot out at the same time, pouring down like a storm.
Each one had enough force to pierce steel, and they moved so quickly the naked eye could barely follow them.
Giyu took a deep breath and pushed Water Breathing to its absolute limit.
"Water Breathing, Eleventh Form: Dead Calm."
His blade light became as still as a quiet water surface, dissolving every attack from the thorn whips.
Shōkyū looked down at him from above, his eyes full of mockery.
"An impressive defense. But how long can you keep it up?"
Giyu raised his head.
The contempt in those cold eyes irritated Shōkyū more than anything.
"Long enough," Giyu said.
Shōkyū froze.
"Long enough for what?"
...
Elsewhere in the Infinity Castle.
The battle between Shinichi and Yoriichi Tsugikuni had entered its final stage amid the ruins.
Their blades collided again and again, scattering bursts of sparks.
Shinichi's breathing had fallen completely in sync with Yoriichi's.
With the power of the Transparent World, his perception had reached a height he had never experienced before.
He could "see" every one of Yoriichi's movements.
He could "predict" every single slash.
And even so, he still could not defeat Yoriichi.
This man's blade was simply too fast.
So fast that even when Shinichi could predict the attack, his body could not keep up.
His arms trembled.
The webbing between his thumb and forefinger had split open. Blood trickled down the hilt of his sword.
Yet Yoriichi, standing across from him, remained calm and composed.
"Your blade has become very strong," Yoriichi said as they fought. "But it is still not enough."
He swung his sword.
The plain, ancient-looking Nichirin blade transformed into a pale-golden streak of light, cutting toward Shinichi's neck.
Shinichi blocked at the absolute limit of his strength.
Their blades collided with a piercing metallic ring.
Clang!
The impact forced Shinichi several steps back, and a faint metallic sweetness rose in his throat.
Yoriichi did not pursue him. He only stood there quietly, watching Shinichi.
"It seems you are hesitating," Yoriichi said. "Your blade carries no killing intent."
Shinichi smiled faintly.
"Maybe. If you were a real demon, I'd definitely want to cut you into thousands of pieces."
That was right.
What Shinichi saw in Yoriichi's eyes was not the same cruelty that filled the eyes of those demons. Instead, there was something strange there.
Expectation.
But expectation for what?
He did not know.
"What are you expecting me to do?" Shinichi asked directly.
Yoriichi did not answer.
He simply raised his sword, pointing the tip at Shinichi, and spoke with solemn seriousness.
"Strike once more." He said, "Use your greatest strength."
Shinichi closed his mouth. His gaze became equally serious as he tightened his grip on his Nichirin blade.
The power of life began to gather.
Life Breathing was driven to its limit, and white light condensed along the blade, compressed again and again until it became a dazzling stream of radiance.
"Life Breathing, First Form: Blade Radiance!"
Shinichi stepped forward and swung.
Yoriichi looked at the overwhelming surge of life force, and a faint light flashed in his eyes.
Then he lowered his sword.
He did not block.
He did not dodge.
He simply stood there in silence and allowed that blade light to pierce into his chest.
Pshk.
The faint sound of steel entering flesh rang out.
Shinichi froze.
His hand was still wrapped around the hilt, and the tip of his Nichirin blade had already sunk deep into Yoriichi's chest.
"Why?" Shinichi's voice was filled with shock. "Why didn't you dodge?"
Yoriichi lowered his gaze to the blade piercing his chest and revealed a faint smile.
He raised his hand and placed his own Nichirin blade against Shinichi's neck.
But what touched Shinichi's skin was the back of the blade.
"A sharpened sword needs blood to open its edge."