After a long standoff, Kokushibo and Yoriichi moved at the same time.
Both blurred into afterimages as the crimson blade met the dark-red one. Steel shrieked against steel, sending blinding sparks flying.
The shockwave rippled outward, flattening everything around them. Grass and leaves were blasted into the air and scattered in every direction.
Without a word, neither used any techniques. Instead, they relied solely on the perception granted by the Transparent World—reading, breaking, and countering each other's moves in a seamless flow.
At a glance, Yoriichi, fighting on the defensive, seemed to be at a disadvantage.
But with every clash, Kokushibo's weapon grew more damaged.
He noticed it immediately.
Though forged from his own flesh and blood and as hard as steel, it was still part of a demon. Against a Bright Red Nichirin Blade, it held no advantage.
Realizing this, Kokushibo tightened his grip, twisted his body, and struck twice in a single motion. Crescent-shaped slashes surged forward in alternating arcs.
Yoriichi simply angled his blade.
Scarlet flames surged from its edge, carving radiant streaks through the air as they effortlessly tore through the incoming attacks.
In that instant, Kokushibo's weapon changed.
Its surface twisted with dense, vein-like patterns. Demon eyes split open along its length, erasing any trace of its former cold clarity.
Kokushibo himself transformed as well. His face paled, and new eyes opened above and below his original ones.
Though they were twins, they no longer resembled each other at all.
Yoriichi froze for a brief moment.
But Kokushibo was already moving again, swinging the demonic weapon down.
Countless massive crescent slashes erupted, engulfing Yoriichi from all directions.
[Brother...]
Yoriichi lowered his gaze. His Nichirin Blade deepened into an even darker red, the flame-like aura around it surging violently upward.
With overwhelming force, he cut straight through the incoming barrage.
Like snow melting under sunlight, the attacks vanished the moment they touched his blade.
And in the next instant, his strike reached Kokushibo.
But the demonic weapon reacted as if it had foreseen it, rising sharply to intercept.
Steel screamed on impact—yet stronger still was the stench of burning flesh filling the air.
Yoriichi shifted his grip and pressed down.
The cut went clean through.
Without pause, the crimson edge swept upward. In a single, precise motion, the arm holding the weapon was severed from Kokushibo's body.
A violent burning sensation erupted from the wound.
Even with his regeneration, Kokushibo knew instantly—his arm would not grow back.
In that same instant, the shriek of tearing air and the sharp pain at his neck told him everything.
He had lost.
He had always known he could never match Yoriichi.
What he hadn't expected was that, once Yoriichi stopped holding back, he wouldn't last even a single exchange.
[The next strike... will probably take my head. How pathetic, Kokushibo.]
But the searing pain halted just before reaching his spine.
In the end, that crimson blade did not fall.
Kokushibo didn't move to counterattack. He simply stared at him.
"...What are you doing? Why did you stop?"
Yoriichi's grip did not tremble, but the veins along his arms stood out, betraying the strain beneath his composure.
"Was everything you said earlier just empty talk?" Kokushibo lowered his gaze. "If you can't even do this much, have you really made up your mind?"
The crimson blade moved again—but instead of descending, it withdrew.
Yoriichi lowered his head, his voice hoarse.
"...I'll wait until sunrise. No matter what happens today, I will kill you."
The wound at Kokushibo's neck did not close after the blade withdrew—if anything, it worsened.
A searing pain spread from his right shoulder and the side of his neck. A faint sense of disintegration crept through his body. Had he not resisted with everything he had, he would have already begun to crumble.
[As expected of you... Heaven's Chosen.]
Kokushibo looked at Yoriichi, who stood before him with his head lowered.
"You're still as weak as you were back then."
"...Yes."
But as he watched Yoriichi's downcast figure, Kokushibo laughed.
He stopped suppressing the burning corrosion eating away at his wounds.
"This time... I'll decide for you. This may be the only right choice I've ever made when facing you."
Yoriichi didn't understand what he meant.
But soon, as Kokushibo finished speaking and the faint sound of ash drifting away reached him, Yoriichi finally looked up.
Kokushibo's body was beginning to break apart—starting from his right arm.
"...Brother?"
"So in the end, you really are just an ordinary man..." Kokushibo looked at him, a faint smile in his voice, no longer bothering with that aristocratic tone. "Who would've thought there'd be something in which I could surpass you?"
Yoriichi stared at his crumbling body, then lowered his head again. His voice trembled.
"...You've always been stronger than me."
"Hmph... and you're still saying that now."
Kokushibo lowered his gaze as his body continued to fall apart at an even faster pace.
"Yoriichi, you once said that those who walk a path to its end all arrive at the same place. But I never had your talent. I could never reach what you reached, nor see the world as you did.
"And still, I chased after you like a madman. I abandoned everything—my family, my wife and children, my humanity. Even the dignity that should have belonged to a samurai. And after all that... all I ever did was stare at your back.
"That's when I finally understood. I could never become anyone else. I was only Tsugikuni Michikatsu. Only Kokushibo. And what took me centuries to realize... Hiru had warned me about long ago.
"You all lived as yourselves. Only I remained trapped in my own ugliness, unable to break free... How laughable. I realized it too late. By then, there was no path left to return to."
"No, Brother, I—"
"There's no need to say anything pointless."
Kokushibo raised his left hand to cut him off, though his gaze remained fixed on Yoriichi's grief-stricken face.
"Maybe it's for the best Hiru didn't come with you. Otherwise, he'd probably be laughing and crying at me right now... As the head of the Tsugikuni family, that would be far too disgraceful.
"And even if I told you we could meet again after death... with the way the two of you lived, you'd never end up in the same place as someone as steeped in sin as I am.
"So, Yoriichi... I suppose this means I've finally broken free of you, doesn't it?"