Along the deathly silent street, a palpitation-inducing heat still lingered in the air.
Yotohime knelt among the scorched ruins, her striking face—revealed beneath her shattered Hannya mask—etched with blank disbelief and utter shock.
Four hundred years.
In the late Heian period, an era when jujutsu sorcerers shone like brilliant stars, she too had been a monster who climbed over the corpses of countless powerhouses to carve out the fearsome name of the Demonic Blade.
She once believed that as long as her blade was sharp enough and drank enough blood, there was nothing in this world she could not cut through.
Yet today.
The man before her, devoid of even a trace of cursed energy, had used nothing more than an understated upward slash.
With that alone, he thoroughly crushed every shred of pride she had built across four centuries.
"I... I am willing to follow you."
Yotohime's voice trembled. Lowering the head that had once been steeped in peerless arrogance, she cupped the severed halves of Blood Sakura in both hands and raised them above her head.
"From this day forth, my blade will swing only for you."
This was no capitulation wrung out by the threat of death, but complete surrender before absolute, godlike power.
As a swordsman, she grasped the terrifying realm embodied in that slash better than anyone.
It was the pinnacle of the sword, forever beyond her reach no matter how many lifetimes she spent pursuing it.
"Very well."
Yoru gave a faint nod, making no move to take the broken blade.
"However, your sword is already broken."
"A demonic blade that knows only how to gorge on blood is not worthy of staying by my side."
Yoru turned, his crimson eyes drifting toward Maki Zenin in the distance as Kirara Hoshi tended to her wounds.
"Maki."
Hearing Yoru call out, Maki endured the sharp throbbing across her body and stood with Kirara Hoshi's support.
"Your Pseudo-Soul Splitter Katana took damage during that fight as well, didn't it?"
Maki glanced down at the cursed tool in her grip, its edge chipped in several places, and gave a self-deprecating nod.
"Those ancient monsters have bones harder than steel."
"I doubt this blade will last much longer."
Yoru offered no reply, instead slowly drawing Shiranui from his waist.
Deep crimson radiance rippled across the edge, instantly casting a searing aura of sword intent over the entire area.
"Though the material of that broken Blood Sakura is steeped in malice, it possesses extraordinary growth potential and cursed energy conductivity."
Yoru looked at Maki, his tone calm.
"Next, using the ultimate heat of Sun Breathing, I will forcibly forge and smelt that broken demonic blade together with your Pseudo-Soul Splitter Katana."
"Maki, you have awakened the complete form of Heavenly Restriction, granting you the most flawless physical vessel in this world."
"Yet you still lack a dedicated weapon truly worthy of that strength."
Hearing Yoru's declaration, not only Maki, but even the kneeling Yotohime and nearby Kinji Hakari and the others wore looks of pure astonishment.
Forcibly melting and fusing two entirely distinct Special Grade Cursed Tools with flames?!
How could that be possible?!
Forging a cursed tool required exceptionally intricate cursed energy engravings and a specific environment; how could it be fused casually like heating iron on an anvil?
Yet looking upon Yoru's face, completely devoid of jest, everyone felt a strange certainty—perhaps this man really could pull it off!
"Are you ready?" Yoru asked, looking at Maki.
Taking a deep breath, Maki tossed the Pseudo-Soul Splitter Katana toward Yoru without hesitation.
"Let's do it!"
Yoru snatched the Pseudo-Soul Splitter Katana out of the air while signaling Yotohime to toss over the two shattered pieces of Blood Sakura.
Clang!
Shiranui let out a crisp ring as deep crimson light exploded outward!
"Total Concentration, Sun Breathing."
Yoru employed no specific sword forms, merely driving Sun Breathing to its absolute limit.
Bright Red Nichirin Sword, complete form!
An appalling heat akin to a falling sun burst from Shiranui's blade.
Yoru threw both the Pseudo-Soul Splitter Katana and the fractured Blood Sakura into the air, and his Bright Red Nichirin Sword transformed into dazzling crimson meteors, cleaving frantically into the two blades suspended aloft!
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
A deafening sound of hammering reverberated above Kyoto Colony.
Under the Bright Red Nichirin Sword's extreme heat that could melt anything...
Those two seemingly indestructible Special Grade Cursed Tools truly began to soften and reshape!
Every stroke of Yoru's sword carried an exquisite cadence.
Not only was he liquefying the steel with extreme heat, but with the pinnacle mastery of his Transparent World, he was forcefully untangling and guiding the tempestuous cursed energy circuits inside both blades.
"This... this is nothing short of a miracle..."
Yotohime knelt on the ground, staring dumbfoundedly at the fireball blazing bright as the sun mid-air.
She could sense that under the tempering of that pure, searing sword intent, her demonic blade—once rife with malevolence and bloodlust—was shedding its impurities bit by bit to achieve an unprecedented, terrifying metamorphosis!
Boom!
With the fall of a final, thunderous strike...
The suspended fireball burst apart, dissolving into a sky full of dancing crimson embers.
A brand-new katana drifted down through the glow, caught steadily in Yoru's grip.
Its blade was slender and straight, bathed entirely in an intimidating dark crimson hue, while the cutting edge shimmered faintly with an ethereal wisp of bloody light.
Gone was the nauseating malice Blood Sakura once held; in its place reigned an exquisite sharpness capable of severing the soul!
"Maki, catch."
Yoru gave an easy toss, pitching the brand-new weapon to Maki.
The moment Maki caught the hilt in her hand...
Hum!
A violent, terrifying surge of power perfectly aligned with her own blood and breath flooded through the blade into her body!
"So light... yet so strong!"
Within Maki's blood-flecked eyes, an unprecedented fervor flared to life.
She could feel that this blade was like a natural extension of her own body.
It flawlessly inherited the Soul Splitter Katana's trait of bypassing defense to sever the soul, while integrating the demonic blade Blood Sakura's terrifying trait of devouring blood to nourish its wielder!
"Starting today, this blade will be named 'Shura.'"
Yoru looked at Maki, whose presence climbed steadily higher with the new blade in hand, a satisfied smirk curling at the corner of his lips.
"And now."
Yoru turned his gaze toward the kneeling Yotohime, then to Kinji Hakari, Hajime Kashimo, and the others standing nearby.
A spine-chilling murderous glint flashed through his crimson eyes.
"It's time to teach those relics and Rotten Oranges hiding in the shadows..."
"Who truly calls the shots in this world."
As Yoru's verdict fell, the heavy blanket of clouds above Kyoto Colony seemed forcefully torn apart by that sky-piercing bloodlust.
An ultimate reckoning capable of completely overturning the landscape of the Culling Game had drawn back its bloody curtain.
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