Swish!
The attack was a single point of cold condensed light aimed directly between Shinichi's eyes.
"So fast!" He had braced himself, but the sheer speed of her lunge still caught him off guard.
His mind was a fraction too slow, but his body, honed by countless life-or-death battles, reacted on pure instinct.
While the blade was still inches from his forehead, he arched his back, bending at the waist in a sharp, evasive maneuver.
With a flick of his wrist, his green Nichirin Sword spun out in a graceful, defensive arc.
Ping!
He easily parried the thrust, but it was only the beginning.
His vision was instantly obscured by a sea of vibrant, colorful pollen, the sweet scent flooding his senses.
"Blood Demon Art: Dance of the Phantom Butterfly—Intoxication."
The moment he inhaled, the world around him began to blur, as if he were looking through a sheet of melting glass.
'This pollen is poisonous!'
The thought flashed through his mind just as the sharp, slender blade began its assault, taking advantage of his compromised senses to strike fiercely from all directions.
"Forest Breathing, Sixth Form: Hurricane Strike!" A wide arc of green wind blades erupted from his position, sweeping around his body.
The high-speed, rotating defense firmly guarded every inch of space as he desperately poured his vitality into his eyes, fighting to clear the poison.
Purple and green light flashed violently, illuminating the dilapidated factory in strobing bursts of color.
The two figures were a constant blur of motion, every collision punctuated by the harsh shriek of metal on metal.
"Awooo!" Huddled in a dark corner, Maru-ni who's still swollen and miserable, let out a series of yips and howls, trying to cheer for his master.
Of course, whenever Shinobu's cold gaze flickered in his direction, he would immediately duck his head and play dead.
Ping! Clang! Ping!
Shinichi weaved and blocked, his turquoise blade a whirlwind of motion.
Vitality flowed through the steel, allowing him to accurately parry every venom-laced thrust Shinobu delivered from a dozen tricky angles.
He never once took the initiative to attack.
Every swing of his sword was a desperate attempt to defend, to guide, to neutralize her ferocious assault without harming her.
Shinobu's movements were ghostly and silent, her violet, slitted pupils showing no emotion, only a cold, simple obsession with "eliminating the target."
As the battle intensified, the slender purple blade in her hand began to drip with a more deadly, corrupting toxin.
Shinichi could feel the dangerous aura coming off it; when she nicked his uniform, the fabric sizzled and corroded, leaving a gaping hole.
The standard-issue uniforms of the Demon Slayer Corps could withstand the bites of ordinary demons!
"Blood Demon Art: Dance of the Venom-Wing—Insect Swarm."
Her cold, unwavering voice echoed again.
With a flick of her wrist, countless tiny "butterflies" made of pure, highly toxic energy fluttered from her sleeves.
They glowed with an eerie purple light, enveloping Shinichi like a swarm of deadly fireflies as the sweet, cloying scent in the air intensified tenfold.
Having just cleared the last of the pollen from his system, Shinichi's pupils constricted.
He immediately held his breath, pushing his Forest Breathing to its limit.
A powerful surge of vitality flooded his body as he swung his blade in a continuous, blurring motion, shattering every poison butterfly that came near him.
But while the butterflies were destroyed, the potent hallucinogenic toxin they released upon impact was nearly impossible to avoid.
The world before him began to warp and melt once more.
The abandoned factory twisted into a giant, pulsating nest of purple venom.
The ground beneath his feet undulated like a swamp, and the single figure of Shinobu across from him began to split and multiply.
"Forest Breathing, Sixt Form: Hurricane Strike!"
With a low cry, Shinichi forced his mind to focus.
His sword spun before him, transforming into a green hurricane.
The violent wind pressure blew away the last of the poison butterflies and, at the same time, he channeled even more vitality into his own system, a clear spring washing away the poison from his brain.
The illusion began to blur and fade.
But just as he was recovering, Shinobu vanished, blending seamlessly into the darkness.
The next moment, she was at his side.
Her blade, gleaming with a cold light, stabbed silently at his neck like a striking viper.
The angle was perfect, the timing impeccable.
Clang!!
He remembered this from their training spars.
Her slashing power was weak, but her thrusts held an incredible, focused force.
If you weren't prepared, she could catch anyone off guard.
His Nichirin Blade, brought up just in time, blocked the poison stinger.
The immense force of the impact sent a numbing shock up his arm.
Even more terrifying, strands of deep purple poison slithered along his blade like maggots, frantically eroding the emerald green vitality that coated it, producing a sickening sizzle.
He didn't dare to hold the block.
Using the force of the collision, he slid backward, shaking his wrist to channel a powerful burst of vitality down the blade, forcibly blasting the clinging poison away.
The venom splattered onto the concrete floor, instantly corroding small, smoking pits into its surface.
Shinichi's scalp tingled.
He stared at Shinobu, who had also retreated, his Adam's apple bobbing.
He still couldn't bring himself to use his full strength.
He had to try something else.
"Shinobu! Look at me! It's me, Shinichi!" he shouted, his voice filled with desperation as she disappeared into the shadows once more.
He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try.
"Don't you remember? Aoi! Kanae! Everyone in the Demon Slayer Corps!"
In the shadow of a rusted machine, she paused.
For a single, breathtaking moment, a flicker of light seemed to pass through her cold, violet eyes.
But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by an even thicker, more menacing murderous aura.
"The demonic aura on you…" her cold voice stated, "…must be purged."
In his desperation, Shinichi had been forced to use a fraction of his own demonic power to metabolize her poison, and she had sensed it.
She held her blade vertically before her chest, her butterfly wings flapping gently.
A deep purple energy began to gather around her, gradually forming a huge, translucent butterfly phantom that pulsed in time with her own movements.
Deadly venom dripped from the edges of its ethereal wings, emitting a pressure that could freeze the soul.
"Blood Demon Art, Final Dance: Funerary Butterflies of Poison."
The giant phantom flapped its wings fiercely.
Countless purple poison needles, formed from extremely concentrated toxic energy, shot towards Shinichi like a torrential downpour, their piercing shriek breaking the sound barrier.
The attack was so widespread it blocked all possible avenues of escape.
It was pure, devastating annihilation.
'There's no other way,' Shinichi thought, his heart aching.
"I'm sorry, Shinobu. Don't blame me for getting rough."
"Forest Breathing, Seventh Form—Soaring Wood Dragon Slash: Twin Strike!"