The rain came down in heavy sheets, soaking my haori as I ripped it off and threw it toward Aoi. The faint flames flickering on the fabric snuffed out instantly, drowned by the deluge. My chest tightened—my last spark of hope extinguished. No more holding back. I charged at Kazanami, blade gripped tight, every muscle coiled with fury.
He hurled his spear at me, the black shaft slicing through the rain like a thunderbolt. It was fast, but I'd faced worse. My plan was simple—chop it into pieces, make it harder for him to pull it back together. The spear entered my range, and I swung my blade, steel flashing.
But then the spear twisted mid-air, its black shaft veering left with unnatural precision, as if guided by an invisible hand. My heart lurched. He can control it like that? I gritted my teeth, cursing my own blindness. He'd only recalled it before, never shifted its path mid-attack.
My mind was a storm, clouded by grief and rage since I'd found Yuki's body. The spear's tip gleamed, slicing through the rain toward the girls, a deadly promise in its arc. No. If it struck, they'd be lost. Kazanami had sworn he'd spare them. Liar bastard.
I froze for a heartbeat. Throw my blade to redirect it? No, that wouldn't work. Ghost Step. The thought blazed through my mind. Maybe I could reach them in time.
Before I could move, a gorgeous, precise sword strike split the spear in half. Kanao. She stepped into the chaos, her blade catching the moonlight, a lifeline in the storm. Thank god. Backup.
"Run! Get to safety!" I shouted at Aoi and the girls. "I've got this!"
I didn't wait for them to answer. I lunged at Kazanami before he could summon his broken spear back, unleashing a storm of strikes. My blade danced through the air, each swing fueled by Yuki's memory. He blocked with bare hands, his eyes narrowing, that smug grin finally fading.
Aoi scooped up Yuki's body and bolted with the girls, Kanao guarding their retreat, her stance steady as stone. Good. No more distractions. Just me and him.
Kazanami's body flared with a burst of fire, trying to shove me back, but I twisted away, the heat grazing my skin. I spotted the chipped blade in the mud—Aoi hadn't taken it. I needed to light it, call Ghost, but there was no time. Kazanami rushed me, his spear reformed and wrapped in dull flames, flickering weakly in the rain.
He thrust, the spear a blazing lance. I parried, steel clashing with a sharp ring that echoed over the storm. The rain pounded harder, thunder growling above. It should've doused his fire, but the flames clung to him, a faint shield around his body, a boost to his weapon. Doesn't matter. I'd end him, rain or not.
"You're not bad," Kazanami said, his voice cold and smooth, a twisted smile curling his lips. "But this game's over."
Bluffing? Then I saw it. His flames flared bigger, hotter, fiercer, defying the downpour. He conjured a second spear from pure fire, gripping both with deadly intent. He charged, a blur of flame and steel.
I dodged and deflected, but it was tight. His speed and power had spiked—he'd been toying with me. Each blow rattled my arms, my bones screaming. Was this his real strength? I couldn't stop. Couldn't retreat. People lived nearby; I couldn't let him loose. I had to avenge Yuki. I wouldn't let my old friend—this monster—kill anyone else.
I fought back with everything I had, pouring my soul into each strike. Shadow Breathing: First Form – Veiled Fang. My blade sliced through the rain, a dark crescent aimed at Kazanami's chest, the air hissing as water vaporized against my steel. He parried with his spear, the clash ringing out like a bell, sparks scattering into the downpour. My arms trembled, but I didn't stop. Third Form – Eclipse Fang. I spun, my blade arcing wide, a shadowed wave meant to carve through his defenses. He leapt back, his flaming spear leaving a trail of steam, his eyes glinting with that infuriating smirk.
I pressed forward, my breath burning in my lungs. Fourth Form – Crescent Fang. A low, curving slash targeted his legs, aiming to cripple his stance. The blade bit into his thigh, blood sizzling as it met his fire, but his flesh knitted back together in a heartbeat, flames licking the wound closed. Damn it. My muscles screamed, the weight of each swing dragging at me, but Yuki's face—her fading eyes—kept me moving. Fifth Form – Obsidian Rain. I unleashed a storm of rapid slashes, my blade a blur of black steel, each cut a cry for vengeance. Kazanami blocked, his spear spinning in a fiery whirl, but I saw his arm falter, just for a moment.
One last push. Sixth Form – Phantom Strike. I lunged, aiming for his shoulder, severing his arm in a clean slice. It hit the mud with a wet thud, only to regrow in a burst of fire, the new limb gleaming with fresh malice. I staggered, my chest heaving, rain mixing with sweat on my brow. His neck. That was the only way. Cutting limbs was useless—his regeneration was too fast, too relentless. I needed an opening, a single moment to strike true.
Then it hit me. I grabbed the chipped blade and flung it high above him. It caught his flames, glowing faintly, and his eyes flicked up—just a split second. Perfect.Ghost Step. I surged forward, blade aimed at his throat. No stopping now. Even if he blasted me with fire, I'd push through.
My swing connected, steel biting into his neck. Hard. Like cutting rock. But I could do it. I poured every ounce of strength into it, my arms burning, my breath ragged. The blade sank halfway.
Then it stopped. My momentum died. No. I couldn't cut deeper.
"What's wrong, huh? Can't finish it? Pathetic," Kazanami sneered, his face a mask of malice. He slammed his fiery fists into my chest.
I flew back, the world a blur of rain and shadow, and slammed into the mud with a sickening thud. Pain erupted in my ribs—a sharp, searing stab that stole my breath, as if a blade had lodged in my chest. Something was broken, maybe more than one. The cold rain washed over me, soaking my hair, cooling the heat of my battered skin, but it couldn't dull the fire in my side. I tried to move, to push myself up, but my arms buckled, trembling under the weight of my own body. My lungs burned with each shallow gasp, the air too thin, too heavy.
Too much. The thought clawed at me. Too many forms—Veiled Fang, Obsidian Rain, Phantom Strike—chained together without pause. Too many hits, Kazanami's fiery fists and spear grazing me, wearing me down. Too long fighting, alone, with Yuki's lifeless face haunting every swing. My body was breaking, betraying me when I needed it most. I dug my fingers into the mud, its slick, gritty chill grounding me, but the weight of my failure pressed harder. Yuki. But my strength was gone, drained into the earth beneath me.
I'm screwed. I can't beat this bastard, not like this, not broken and battered in the mud. The thought slammed into me like a fist to the gut, raw and heavy, as pain tore through my ribs—each breath a sharp stab, like a knife twisting in my chest. My body was giving out, but I couldn't just lie here. Yuki's face, her fading whisper, burned in my mind, demanding I keep going. Could I hold out for backup? My Kasugai Crow had flown off, probably screeching for a help—Hashira, if I got lucky. But how long would that take? Minutes? Hours? I didn't have that kind of time. I had to pull back, turtle up, buy a few precious seconds. Where was that damn Ghost? The chipped blade had caught his flames, a faint signal flickering in this cursed storm, but he was nowhere. My stomach twisted at the thought. How much longer could I wait for him to show?
Then I heard it, a low snarl cutting through the rain's roar.
"Blood Demon Art: Crimson Spear Shower"
I forced my eyes up. Above Kazanami, the sky blazed with hundreds of fiery spears, hovering like a deadly constellation. Every single one aimed at me.
To Be Continued…
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Author here. I made a new image for the Cover. Should I replace the current one with this one (with a few edits) ?
[ Cover Art ]