Hearing Tōga's words, Sesshōmaru's golden slit-pupils finally shifted from Tōga's remnant soul to Shinji.
"Teach?" He repeated the word. His tone did not change. But the air within the abdominal cavity of Tōga's corpse abruptly froze. The oppressive yōki released from Sesshōmaru's body startled every underworld bird perched upon the bone walls, great and small. They burst into flight simultaneously, flapping frantically toward the higher gaps between the ribs.
Tōga's remnant soul stood where he was. His molten-gold eyes watched his son. He did not retract those words.
"Father...." Sesshōmaru spoke, his pace exceedingly slow. Every word sounded as though it had been ground out from between his teeth.
"You would have a demon warrior.... teach me?" That single sentence contained far too many things. Anger. Humiliation. Unwillingness. And a pain that even Sesshōmaru himself refused to acknowledge, the pain of being, once again, denied by his father. Pain. Far too much pain!
Tessaiga, given to an outsider. Tenseiga, given to him. And now even the task of teaching him a lesson, delegated to another's hand. In Sesshōmaru's eyes, Tōga had never once looked at him properly. From beginning to end.
"Sesshōmaru, you need to only answer me one question." Tōga's remnant soul drifted slightly. Silver-white motes scattered from the edges of his shoulder armor. He suddenly became serious. Solemn. "Do you have anyone you wish to protect?"
Silence. Sesshōmaru did not answer. The crimson within his golden slit-pupils deepened by another shade. Protect. That concept, in Sesshōmaru's view, was merely the posture of the weak.
And the one who had asked this question, his father, was, in the eyes of this young noble of the dog-demon clan, offering nothing less than… an insult. And so he was enraged. Furious.
"It seems you still don't." Tōga sighed. Though a remnant soul had no need to breathe, the gesture still carried the weight of lament. For the great general of the Western dog-demon clan, such a Sesshōmaru was clearly unqualified.
He still needed… tempering. Then he turned to Shinji. "Boy. Tessaiga did not reject you. That was its judgment. You said 'borrow', but I can see it. Tessaiga genuinely wishes to follow you. It's just that this unworthy son of mine will not let the matter rest. You must have seen that as well."
Shinji had indeed seen it. Sesshōmaru's killing intent had surged from a gentle wave to a raging tide. Though his face still wore that same eternally indifferent expression, the claws of his right hand, index and middle fingers, had already pressed together.
Though that killing intent was not yet directed at him, he knew very well: if he insisted on keeping Tessaiga, that killing intent would, in an instant, be aimed at him.
But so what? He had come here to borrow Tessaiga. And if Tōga intended to gift it to him outright, he naturally would not refuse.
Thus,
"Hand over Tessaiga." Sesshōmaru finally spoke formally. His golden slit-pupils stared directly at Shinji.
"You helped me summon back the soul of that half-demon. So today, set Tessaiga down, and I will not hold anything against you. The promise I made, will also remain unchanged." His tone was flat. It was the final ultimatum delivered to an object unworthy of further words.
In Sesshōmaru's perception, Shinji was, at best, a somewhat unusual demon. When they had met at Kaede's Village before, the other had merely been a demon with decent yōki, but by no means strong.
Only a few dozen, a hundred, times stronger than Jaken, perhaps. Though he could summon souls. Though he had, together with Kikyō, repelled the Tsuchigumo in its weakened state and even severed one of its arms, how could Sesshōmaru not know that the Tsuchigumo had held back?
The favor he owed could be used to spare the other. And the promise he had made, would not change. But that, absolutely, did not include Tessaiga. This exceeded his limits of acceptance. Exceeded the bottom line he could endure!
"Sorry." Shinji's reply, however, was so crisp it made the corner of Sesshōmaru's eye twitch.
"Tessaiga has acknowledged me. I also need it. And, you can't draw this blade." He didn't even bother with a more tactful phrasing. Within this cleft of the underworld, within the abdominal cavity of Tōga's corpse, he had no need to be courteous with Sesshōmaru.
He was no longer the same person he had been two months ago. Nor did he expect the other to give up Tessaiga because of that owed promise. That was not realistic. And it was not "Sesshōmaru."
"So?" Sesshōmaru's voice finally gained a temperature. Only, it was the temperature of extreme cold. "You mean to say, you are more qualified than I to wield my father's blade?"
"It's not a matter of qualification." Shinji unfastened Tessaiga from his waist and thrust it, reverse-gripped, into the bone floor behind him. The fur upon the hilt stirred faintly within the gray-violet mist. "It's that you cannot touch it. That has nothing to do with whether I'm qualified. Ask your father yourself."
Sesshōmaru's gaze swept toward Tōga. Tōga's remnant soul spread his hands. That languid, careless attitude detonated the final shred of Sesshōmaru's patience.
He moved. Five fingers spread wide. The venom condensed at his fingertips, dragging a blinding emerald trail through the gray-violet space. It was a poison so potent that even rock and steel would dissolve upon contact. It was the highly condensed power of his demonic energy.
An ordinary existence below the level of a daiyōkai would find it nearly impossible to withstand such an attack. Its name, Dokukaguzume. The Poison-Claw.
A technique unique to the dog-demon clan. His speed was also extraordinarily swift. The speed of a daiyōkai in humanoid form, though not the absolute pinnacle of speed, and still unable to surpass Kidōmaru within the Rashōmon domain, was fluid to an extreme degree.
In terms of striking speed, it was hardly inferior at all. It was more than ten levels faster than Takeda Shingen at full power with her military momentum entwined upon Mount Hakurei. It was countless times faster than Uesugi Kenshin's golden slash after channeling the faith of three hundred soldiers. The incarnations of gods and buddhas, having entwined the military momentum of their nations' most elite forces, still faced a qualitative disparity against a true daiyōkai!
But Shinji's reaction was not slow either. He did not use the Five Elements yōki externalization to strike the strong with the weak. Sesshōmaru's raw strength was greater than his.
No matter how many methods he possessed, Shinji had not the slightest intention of underestimating his opponent. The moment battle began, it was at full strength. The horns upon his head rose. Crimson scales spread across his body.
The Twelfth Transformation, the Māra Body, unfurled in an instant. And then, Leopard-Tail Speed. The instant the Guardian Spirit's power activated, his body vanished from where it stood. The Poison-Claw sliced through nothing but an afterimage. Emerald venom splattered against the bone floor, hissing and fizzing, corroding a crater half a shaku deep.
Shinji reappeared three paces to Sesshōmaru's left. Onikiri left its sheath. The Shura-Heart surged. Demonic energy rose and was carried upon the blade's edge. Blood-fire wrapped the steel. A horizontal slash.
Sesshōmaru didn't even turn his head. A whip of light shot from his fingertips. Silver-white demonic energy formed a lash over forty meter long, directly deflecting Onikiri's blaze. The sound of metal clashing against demonic energy echoed through the abdominal cavity, shaking the ribs overhead with its resonance.
Shinji's arm was knocked back half an inch by the recoil. The web of his hand went faintly numb. Sesshōmaru's whip of light coiled forward, carrying its lethal venom, aiming for his wrist,
But. Celestial-Eye Piercing. The perception of the three-eyed peacock unfurled in an instant. The trajectory, speed, force distribution, and weak points of that whip of light, all surfaced within his vision.
Shinji flipped his wrist. Onikiri slashed vertically downward, its edge driving directly into the weakest link of the whip's force. The line snapped. Silver-white fragments scattered to either side.
Sesshōmaru's pupils contracted for a single instant. Visible surprise. His whip of light had been severed by a mere demon blade. The last time such a thing had happened, was in Tanba Province, near Kyōto, against the Tsuchigumo.
"You've… grown this much stronger?" Sesshōmaru murmured. His tone remained flat. But the posture of his right hand had changed, from a single finger to all five claws pressed together.
The concentration of his demonic energy doubled. The next strike carried not the slightest hint of probing. Five emerald blades of poisonous claw-light slashed out simultaneously, cutting from five different angles, sealing off every direction around Shinji, front, back, left, right, and above.
However Shinji neither dodged nor flinched. He simply advanced. Vajra, Indestructible. Golden radiance sheathed his body. The five poisonous claws struck simultaneously. The sound of corrosion hissed in a continuous chorus. Emerald venom streamed across that golden surface, but could not penetrate even a fraction.
Shinji stood utterly motionless within the encirclement of the poison claws. His crimson demon eyes stared directly at Sesshōmaru through the emerald mist of venom. And then, the counterattack. His left hand spread open. Banryū was drawn from his back. Not for a slash, but with Immovable Earth as the anchor, the power of the earth was channeled into the blade's body.
A straight thrust.
The pale greatsword carried the weight of a mountain. The air before its tip was compressed into visible white mist.
Sesshōmaru sidestepped. Banryū grazed past his shoulder armor. A single plate of silver armor was sheared away by the sheer force of the blow. The fragment was pulverized by the sword pressure before it could even hit the ground.
Sesshōmaru retreated two steps. He glanced down at the gap in his shoulder armor. Then he lifted his head. Within his golden slit-pupils, the cold indifference and dignity maintained for centuries, finally showed cracks.
"You—" Surprise. Shock. Three months ago, this had still been a weak, insignificant demon. And now, he could actually trade blows with him. This had, without a doubt, exceeded the comprehension of this young dog-demon daiyōkai, who, though young in the scale of his kind, had already lived for a full four hundred years by human reckoning. This was no ordinary demon's growth rate!
But he never got to finish his sentence. Because Shinji gave him no chance to finish it. Extreme Will condensed. Onikiri and Banryū lashed out simultaneously. Blood-fire and earthen weight layered upon one another. Dark crimson heat and pale yellow pressure intertwined into a spiraling slash, driving straight toward Sesshōmaru's chest.
Sesshōmaru raised his hand. The whip of light shot forth once more, this time not one, but three. Silver-white lines wove into a net, catching the twin-blade strike head-on.
BOOM. The shockwave exploded outward from the point of collision. The bone walls of Tōga's abdominal cavity were shaken with spiderweb cracks.
Tōga's remnant soul drifted to a corner, arms folded, watching the spectacle. Within his molten-gold eyes was written: Continue.
Unlike his arrogant son, Tōga had long since perceived it. That special demon, who seemed wholly human, yet wholly demon, held within his body a demonic energy that was absolutely not weak. Not yet a daiyōkai. But very, very close.
"Sesshōmaru. You are far too arrogant. You stand far too high…"
"Letting you witness the power of a demon who has grown from true weakness... will do you good."
In battles between demons, tier was of paramount importance. But it was never absolute. Skill. Experience. Weapons. These, too, played their part.
Amidst this, Sesshōmaru's three whips of light held for two seconds before snapping. The residual force of Shinji's twin blades continued to drive forward. The edge was less than two cm from Sesshōmaru's throat.
Beyond this, Sesshōmaru finally retreated. Four full steps back. This was a retreat distance he rarely, if ever, displayed in humanoid combat. And against a demon weaker than himself, never. Four steps. For a natural-born daiyōkai, four steps of concession was the equivalent of admitting: in a clash of humanoid against humanoid, he held no absolute, overwhelming advantage. He was even, at a disadvantage.
Shinji's Māra Transformation, at its initial formation, had already possessed the power to match an ordinary daiyōkai in its humanoid form with its demonic energy drawn in. Now, after becoming more proficient, he truly could suppress the other by a margin!
A single instant of silence fell within the abdominal cavity. Sesshōmaru stood where he had retreated. His silver-white hair cascaded down, veiling half his face. But within the exposed golden slit-pupil, crimson had already spread to the very edge of the iris.
"In that case." His voice sank. His demonic energy began to skyrocket. Not the earlier gentle waves or surging tides, but a tsunami. Silver-white radiance poured from Sesshōmaru's body, drowning the surrounding space for dozens of meters. His body began to swell.
The silver armor shattered. The white haori scattered into shreds. His shoulder armor flew off and smashed a rib pillar to pieces. The fur upon his shoulder surged outward dozens of times over, spreading from his right shoulder across his entire body. Silver-white fur covered his limbs and torso. His face vanished. In its place, was a colossal canine head.
The snout was long and tapered. Fangs jutted outward. Crimson pupils hung on either side of the skull. The crescent moon of deep purple upon his brow had expanded to cover his entire forehead. A daiyōkai. Canine form. Demonic power fully unleashed.
Sesshōmaru's beast form unfurled within this sealed abdominal space. Though its size was still far from that of his father's corpse, it was nonetheless over a dozen meters in height.
The beast-form daiyōkai lowered its head. Its crimson pupils stared down at the small, gray-robed figure beneath. A low, rumbling growl surged from the depths of its throat, making the entire space hum with its resonance. Powerful. Terrifying.
If the humanoid Sesshōmaru of before had been a deep pool, deep, unfathomably deep, yet ultimately calm, then this Sesshōmaru was a vast, raging, incontestable ocean.
As a natural-born daiyōkai, Sesshōmaru's true strength had always been manifested in his beast form. In the absence of a suitable weapon capable of bearing the full weight of his demonic power, only this form allowed him to unleash himself freely.
The price was the loss of most of his rationality. The surfacing of bestial instinct. But, strength, speed, and reaction, all underwent a comprehensive, qualitative leap. And alongside the beast transformation, purple toxic mist began to billow around him. A miasma so dense it was terrifying, the "miasma" belonging to the daiyōkai Sesshōmaru.
It was the manifestation of a daiyōkai's demonic energy covering and assimilating the world around him, with Sesshōmaru's very existence as its source. It was the "Phenomenon" transformation that the Tsuchigumo had once displayed!
The last time Shinji had faced such pressure, it had been against the Tsuchigumo. But this time, though he stood alone, faced with this pressure, Shinji did not retreat. Because he truly was… not the same as before!
He sheathed his twin blades. Banryū returned to his back. And then, with the Māra Body, he activated the Shura Form! The skeletal frame extended from his spine. White bones grew and wove together outside his body. Thunder leaped and filled the gaps. fifteen meters. twenty-four meters. thirty meters. sixty meters! It ultimately settled at a scale even taller than Sesshōmaru's beast form.
What met the eye was a blaze of deep crimson. Flames and thunder erupted simultaneously. Four arms encircled. Three blades drawn at once. Upon the empty bone fingers, thunder crackled and snapped. Violet arcs danced between the joints.
The Bone Thunder Shura and the silver-furred, beast-form daiyōkai stood in opposition within Tōga's abdominal cavity. Two demonic auras collided in the space between them. The gray-violet mist was churned into a vortex.
Sesshōmaru's crimson pupils locked dead onto the bone-thunder colossus before him. He could feel it, the quality and density of that power was, shockingly, no less than his own.
Though in height it still fell far short of him. But that quantity. That quality. They truly were not far apart. This realization made the beast-form daiyōkai's roars, already wild with instinct, grow even more violent.
In the corner, Tōga's remnant soul watched this scene, his molten-gold eyes narrowing faintly. He stroked his chin. "This appearance… feels somewhat familiar."