One human and one demon, meters apart, stared at each other.
The snow fell slowly, and the two of them stood motionless like sculptures.
"No, that's not right."
—On second thought, something is not right.
Muzan crouched down, cautiously staring in the direction of Kamado Tanjuro. His black suit was bulging, and the muscles under his clothes were surging.
His five brains were racing, trying to find an answer to this confusing dilemma.
'What's going on?! Why is he here?!'
'Did Kokushibo lie to me?!'
'No, humans... can't live that long.'
'A descendant? No, impossible.'
That guy has no descendants at all!
It would be easier for him to believe that there was a god in this world than to believe that Yoriichi had crawled out of his grave to hunt him down.
Muzan's pupils twitched rapidly; his logic told him that the man in front of him wasn't Yoriichi.
But every time he looked at the earring, he felt a stabbing pain in his body.
---
Tanjuro slid into an Iaido stance, slightly pulling back his left foot, his left hand holding the scabbard, and his right hand holding the hilt, ready to draw his sword.
~Click~
The thumb is pressed against the tsuba (katana guard).
Deep breath...
'In the end, so what if I was seen through?'
Tanjuro's hand on the hilt of the sword gripped it tightly. The fear and trembling leave his body as he gets comfortable with the texture of his katana.
He has changed the original ending of his family.
And that's enough!
"Hiss—" Tanjuro inhaled slightly, and the cold air around him instantly gathered in his direction, turning into a converging airflow.
That's right.
He looked ahead, his eyes calm and firm.
The cold wind and snow blew through Tanjuro's hair, slightly moving his hair.
In his deep red pupils, he saw Muzan squatting in the snow not far away.
From then on, anything he did was for his own benefit.
'It's worth it.'
Tanjuro's heartbeat steadied as he slipped into the transparent world.
Slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again slowly.
Tanjuro's five senses reached their most acute peak at the moment. Then, the world seemed to have changed in Tanjuro's eyes.
~Whooo——!~
An invisible wind rose from Tanjuro's body and spread to Muzan's position not far away.
In an instant, a circular area with a radius from himself to Muzan was shrouded.
Time seemed to slow down; the swaying of the leaves, the falling of the snow, and the flying snow brought by the wind suddenly slowed down.
It was like the world was moving frame by frame.
Muzan was trying to slowly get up and, at the same time.
His body movement gradually became clear in Tanjuro's eyes.
The friction and contraction between muscles and bones, the twisting of blood vessels, and the ups and downs of the lungs were clearly visible when he stood up.
And also—the five brains and seven hearts that were constantly moving around inside Muzan's body.
)—Transparent world—(
---
Muzan, all seven senses are tingling.
He's slowly getting up while holding onto the tree. His attention suddenly focused, and he stared at Tanjuro's silhouette with his eyes wide open. His eyes were stunned in disbelief.
What just happened?
Even though only a few seconds had passed.
"How?" His voice was quivering.
The man is still standing there.
And yet, why did his aura suddenly disappear?
Muzan is seeing but not seeing.
All of these events came crushing down on his memory, and the composure he had been trying to maintain cracked.
"That's right!"
This is a familiar feeling.
'Three hundred years ago... when I first saw that annoying persistent guy, I felt this same feeling.'
Muzan's head became clogged with blood due to excessive tension, and his thoughts slowed down a bit.
Rather, he was afraid to think.
---
~Swish!~
The sound of something cutting through the air came from the opposite side.
~Hiss—~
Then came a sound of steam from boiling water.
Muzan, who never took his eyes off of Tanjuro, saw all his actions.
Tanjuro drew his sword.
The moment the scorching hot red blade appeared in the dark night, it glowed red, shining and dazzling like the sun.
~Shaa—~
The high temperature came into contact with the cold outside world, instantly evaporating any snowflakes falling in the surrounding air, and bursts of white steam constantly appeared from the blade.
The sharp blade cut through the steam, and the red blade radiated light in the night, announcing its presence to the world.
—Bright Red Nichirin Sword.
~Swish! Swish!~
Tanjuro waved the crimson blade, which emitted a red-gold blade light.
He pointed the blade downwards, the tip of the blade aimed at Muzan.
"Muzan." Tanjuro looked at Muzan; his arm holding the hilt of the sword was tense, and white steam of high temperature was escaping from the corner of his mouth.
"Care to share with me..."
"What's so funny?"
!!!
Muzan frowned tightly, staring at the red-hot crimson blade with phantom pain and panic. His throat was constricted, and he couldn't speak.
He had only one thought in his mind.
—Run!Run!Run!Run!Run!Run!Run!Run!Run!Run!
The shock tonight was too great for Muzan.
Previously, Tanjuro dared not to speak, worried that his voice would be too different from Yoriichi's and that Muzan would notice the difference.
But now,
—It's simply too good a chance to pass up.
When using the Transparent World to see the five brains and seven hearts in Muzan's body.
Tanjuro understood in an instant the essence of the Hinokami Kagura—the sword techniques of the Sun Breathing.
Five brains and seven hearts, a total of twelve cuts, are needed to cut them open at the same time.
Then, to finish the job, the neck has to be cut off cleanly.
Thirteen cuts in all.
The Sun Breathing sword techniques consist of thirteen forms in total.
In other words, the essence of Sun Breathing forms is a complete set of killing processes born and perfected to kill Kibutsuji Muzan!
In his life, when Tanjuro danced the Hinokami Kagura, he always felt that his heart was not reaching his intention.
It feels like something is missing.
Until now.
Tanjuro stared at the heart and brain wandering in Muzan's body, and the feeling of emptiness finally cleared.
The Target: What is missing is the target of attack.
He now felt that if he wanted to, every strike could precisely land on Muzan's vital points!
The method of killing Muzan is like a fill-in-the-blank question.
And in his hand, was a copy of the absolute correct answer that had been filled out by his predecessors three hundred years ago!
This kind of sword technique that he had practiced for thirty years and honed in the world of Sekiro.
Excitement grew in his chest, replacing any other thought; it is pulling his blade! This is his confidence!
Within the range of Tanjuro's perception.
~Thump.~
"Father."
Tanjiro, his face full of exhaustion, staggered over step by step, and finally his eyes rolled back and he fell straight into the snow, powerless.
"Tanjiro?" Tanjuro paid a little attention to the direction behind him, and his heart tightened.
'Damn it, Tanjiro went up the mountain early.'
This was not part of Tanjuro's plan.
~Sreek.~
He quickly positions his blade and changes his stance.
Unconsciously, his body moves to shield Tanjiro from Muzan's sight.
The body's muscle memory made him strike the same pose he had been practicing for the past 60 years.
—The first form of the Sun Breathing.
)-Enbu!-(