"Kuguruma, are you certain you do not want this old man to hold back?"
Within the courtyard of Kazami Sarayoshi's dojo, the sandy ground was perfectly level.
The master and disciple stood facing each other holding wooden swords, while not far away, Masachika sat formally on his knees to observe the upcoming sparring session.
"There is no need, Master Kazami."
"Even if I haven't mastered a new breathing style, speaking of Thunder Breathing alone, I have already achieved Total Concentration: Constant."
Kazami: "..."
Could you please not mention Thunder Breathing?
Unaware, Natsunishi continued, "The current me is no longer the weak swordsman of the past."
The old man's gaze softened slightly with emotion.
The boy who had once gripped his sleeve and wept bitterly upon his sister's death had grown much taller now.
He always felt as though that had happened only a short while ago.
Clearly, while wiping away his nose, the boy had sworn to him that he would kill all demons to avenge her.
He was no longer a child who needed to stand behind others.
Holding his wooden sword, a thousand emotions welled up in his heart.
But—
Even though you have grown up, Kuguruma, as your master, I must tell you that arrogance and impatience must never be tolerated at any time.
He certainly recognized Natsunishi's talent and hard work.
However, Kazami Sarayoshi believed in his own decades of cultivation in Wind Breathing, his deeply refined understanding of sword techniques, and the instincts honed through countless brushes with death.
He would still not be weaker than his disciple.
He was not old yet.
He still possessed the capability and responsibility to identify any lingering shortcomings for Natsunishi before the boy reached the summit.
Kuguruma had already forged his own path.
This battle would perhaps be the last bit of guidance he could offer him.
"Kuguruma, there is an old saying from the Middle Kingdom."
The old man slowly assumed the most fundamental starting stance of Wind Breathing, his form as steady as a massive rock.
"An exceptionally outstanding tree whose sharpness is too exposed is often the first to be broken by fierce winds."
"A swordsman's sharpness only needs to be revealed at two moments."
"One is when about to sever a demon's head."
"The other is right before drawing the blade."
"Today, let this master witness with his own eyes just how far your training during this period has brought you."
Wind Breathing!
Fourth Form: Rising Dust Storm!
Even though he was advanced in years and his physical strength had declined, Kazami's movements showed not the slightest hint of sluggishness.
Stepping forward to close the distance, his opening move was a refined sword technique that seamlessly combined offense and defense.
A fierce wind abruptly rose from the ground, swirling sand and dust into a rapidly spinning, turbid wall of air.
Carrying both crushing pressure and slicing force, it swept directly toward Natsunishi.
Watching from the side, Masachika couldn't help but widen his eyes.
This was the first time he had seen his master strike with such seriousness.
Even Natsunishi had to admit.
This form of Kazami's, whether in terms of power delivery, the execution of the slash, or the mastery of timing and momentum, was textbook standard and powerful.
An ordinary B-Rank swordsman would likely fail to survive a single strike.
Regrettably, he was facing Natsunishi.
Natsunishi merely took a completely natural, light step onto the ground.
With an incredible, almost instantaneous and fluid side-step, he moved clear of the core area of the wind blades.
His movements were smooth, making a heavy task look light.
He used only footwork, without even activating a breathing style.
Kazami's heart tightened.
He had anticipated that Natsunishi would use Wind Breathing or his new breathing style to parry or counter.
The old man immediately cast away the last shred of casualness.
The trajectory of the wooden sword in his hand abruptly accelerated.
It transformed into a torrential downpour of strikes.
For a moment, his entire being seemed to be accompanied by afterimages.
The sharp shrieks of the wooden sword and the crisp snaps of collisions erupted continuously within the dojo.
Yet, even though the offensive grew denser and more aggressive, it still failed to place much pressure on Natsunishi.
Either slipping past with a turn of his body or occasionally parrying with his wooden sword.
He effortlessly neutralized Kazami's tempestuous chain of attacks one by one.
In fact, he felt the difficulty was not even as intense as his training with the three youngsters at the Rengoku residence a while ago.
Was Kazami weak?
Of course not.
During his peak, he once possessed strength approaching that of the Hashira.
Even now that he was older, if he were to face the likes of Kyojuro, he could still pin them to the ground with one hand and deliver a thorough beating.
It was just that the current Natsunishi was simply too strong.
Realizing this as well, Kazami no longer held anything back.
He activated his Wind Breathing to its absolute limit!
The violent airflow surged within his aging yet resilient physique, causing his already swift speed and the power of his slashes to break through their limits once more!
Total Concentration!
Even his output when slaying demons was nothing more than this.
The sword momentum quickened, the wind blades grew denser, and the air-tearing shrieks almost merged into a single continuous sound.
Had it been the Natsunishi of several months ago, he would likely have suffered defeat at the very first exchange.
But the current him was already vastly different.
In Kazami's eyes, Natsunishi's figure seemed to produce overlapping afterimages that were difficult to distinguish between real and false.
He actually matched his own limit-breaking offensive precisely with identical, if not faster, speed!
Clearly, he was only evading and parrying.
Yet he still had the spare capacity to counter by tapping his wooden sword against the weak points of Kazami's offensive.
Kazami recognized this technique.
This was the combat style of Natsunishi's senior brother, Igarashi.
With sweat appearing on his forehead, Kazami could already faintly feel his physical endurance beginning to approach its breaking point.
He felt as though he were not dueling a swordsman, but rather attempting to sever a beam of light or capture a gust of wind.
Wanting to suppress the opponent was nothing but futility.
However, far from being disheartened, the old man wielded the wooden sword in his hand even more wildly!
"Good! Good! Good!" Kazami laughed thoroughly.
His weathered face flushed with excitement.
The long-lost fighting flame belonging to a swordsman was completely ignited within his eyes.
That bit of a senior's dignity was utterly cast aside.
At this moment, standing here, he was a martial artist who had encountered a formidable foe and wished to exert every ounce of his strength to defeat him.
He, Kazami Sarayoshi, was the challenger.
"You have become very strong, Kuguruma!"
Even among the Hashira he had witnessed during his days in the Demon Slayer Corps, most were merely at the opponent's current level.
Kazami's breathing operated in an even faster, more powerful manner.
His energy levels fluctuated, briefly soaring above 230.
Wind Breathing!
Tenth Form: Esoteric Art - Desolate Storm Fall!
This was a sword form unique to Kazami.
It was also the technique this elderly man had spent his entire life polishing, an ultimate trump card that he had never before displayed in front of Natsunishi.
The swordsman advanced rapidly, man and blade seemingly transforming into a giant tornado connecting heaven and earth.
Shrouded in a will that tore everything to shreds, it crashed thunderously toward the youth!
Natsunishi narrowed his eyes slightly.
Old man Kazami hadn't been boasting after all.
This single strike was likely sufficient to slay a Lower Rank demon of Mukago's caliber.
The youth also finally moved in a true sense for the first time.
The power of breathing.
Like the sun, moon, and stars, it revolved within his body.
There was no violent wind, and no raging flames.
Only the air around him distorted slightly, and light seemed to converge upon him, enveloping his entire being in a hazy yet impossible-to-ignore aura.
Yao Breathing! (Astral Breathing)
He stepped forward, simply and cleanly.
The wooden sword in his hand brought down from above, facing the center of that world-destroying storm, delivered a plain and unremarkable slash.
There was no fury of a hurricane, and no gorgeous trajectory.
There was only a straight, incomparably concentrated beam of light.
It was a condensed strike that tore through the air, leaving a brief vacuum trail, while the edges of the trajectory continuously scattered specks of deep, night-like dark red starlight.
Beautiful yet fatal.
This strike, resembling a solitary column of smoke, cut into the gathering storm raised by the old man.
First Form: Solar Brilliance - Solitary Smoke of the Vast Desert!
Chii!
Like a hot knife cutting through butter.
The astonishing, grim storm was split into two right down the middle, instantly collapsing into turbulent air currents that caused the vegetation in the courtyard to sway continuously.
Kazami's eyes widened.
The momentum of that solitary smoke did not stop; after cleaving open the storm, it came to a halt against Kazami's neck with a cold touch.
The old man maintained his posture of unleashing his esoteric art, frozen in place.
Natsunishi: "Old—Master, thank you for the match."
Kazami did not respond immediately.
He slowly lowered his head, looking at the wooden sword in his hand which seemed to have suddenly become weightless, and then looked up at Natsunishi.
There was no frustration or dejection.
Instead, a subtle smile spread from the corners of his mouth, ultimately transforming into an exceptionally hearty and incomparably proud laugh.
"Hahaha! Good! Wonderful!"
He struck Natsunishi's shoulder with force, his eyes unexpectedly growing somewhat moist.
He gazed intently at the youth, his eyes shining brightly as he said, "Kuguruma, you are the disciple I, Kazami Sarayoshi, am most proud of in this lifetime!"
Even for Natsunishi, who possessed a thick skin.
Being praised so directly and intensely by his master made him scratch his head with a bit of embarrassment.
"Not at all, it is all due to your excellent guidance."
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