A clash of steel—no, of wood—unfolding within the span of a heartbeat. An endless exchange of offense and defense that seemed to stretch into eternity.
By the mere contact of our blades, I could feel it. The strength of the Wind Hashira, Shimotsuki, had firmly entered the realm of the superhuman.
If the prototype of the Twelve Kizuki I had faced was merely tenacious, this man was simply powerful.
When one of his paths was blocked, he immediately flowed into another. If that, too, was countered, he improvised a new strike on the spot, pressing his advantage without a moment's respite.
It was like a crocodile's death roll—a relentless, crushing will that refused to let go once it had bitten down!
But that was not all.
Moon Breathing
Sixth Form: Eternal Night, Lonely Moon - Incessant
I carved through the surrounding air with a multitude of vertical, crescent-shaped slashes, shredding everything in my vicinity.
Wind Breathing
Fifth Form: Cold Mountain Wind
He countered from above, unleashing circular gusts of wind-like slashes that acted as an impenetrable defense.
Like a machine calculating the exact value to balance an equation, he met my strikes with the forms best suited to negate them.
While my theoretical grasp of Total Concentration Breathing might be superior, his experience forged in the crucible of the battlefield was undoubtedly a tier above mine. And his innate talent for understanding the nature of Breathing likely surpassed my own. After all, he had awakened his personal Breathing style much faster than I.
At this level, he could likely subjugate that Twelve Kizuki prototype with ease.
In fact, since Wind Breathing consists mostly of relentless, connected techniques, he might even have a better elemental matchup against such foes than I do.
But the real problem lay elsewhere.
*Crack!*
In that brief window of time, my wooden sword had reached its limit. It could no longer withstand the Wind Hashira's ferocious assault.
Glancing at the blade, I saw it wasn't just chipped; it was riddled with deep, jagged gouges.
It seemed the same was true for Shimotsuki's weapon.
The next exchange would surely decide the victor.
And the moment I flickered my gaze toward my wooden sword for a fraction of a second, Shimotsuki did not let that opening slip by.
Wind Breathing
Eighth Form: Primary Gale Slash
Stomping the ground with enough force to shatter stone, Shimotsuki lunged forward with terrifying speed.
"You charge without caution the moment you see a chance for victory. That is your greatest flaw, Commander Shimotsuki."
I prepared to counter his strike right then.
The Eighth Form of Wind Breathing is supposed to be a rapid approach followed by twin slashes, but mid-dash, Shimotsuki's movement changed abruptly.
Using his forward momentum as a springboard, he vaulted into the air.
Wait—it's a feint!
Shimotsuki's real target was...
*Whoosh!*
...From above!
As if he had been waiting for this exact moment, he swung his sword down upon my head from mid-air.
Wind Breathing
Ninth Form: Idaten Typhoon
A whirlwind of sword ki, reminiscent of a Great Typhoon, tore through my surroundings, encompassing everything in a wide radius as if sensing certain victory.
***
Moon Hashira, Tsugikuni Michikatsu.
He was indeed a powerhouse worthy of the title 'Hashira.' As the Grandmaster who had disseminated the secrets of Breathing, his mastery of the art was on a level vastly beyond our own.
It wasn't particularly surprising. Even four months ago, he had effortlessly parried my attacks without being serious. He had proven his strength by slaying a Demon on par with the one the Echoing Hashira struggled with. In a mere four months, he had reached the rank of Hashira—the youngest and fastest in history. That was why I wanted to test myself against him directly.
However, there was something else that sent chills down my spine. It was the swordsmanship he practiced with his Moon Breathing.
It is true that Breathing is a wondrous technique that elevates physical abilities to a superhuman level, allowing one to perform the impossible. However, Breathing itself does not dictate the form of a sword style.
In other words, using a Breathing technique does not mean one naturally learns how to use a sword. Breathing and swordsmanship are separate issues.
For the Demon Slayer Corps, there were traditional schools that had been passed down for five hundred years. They didn't face this problem because they already had a foundation—a 'template' to reference.
But for Michikatsu, there was no original template to refer to. This meant he had invented every single movement from scratch... By his own words, he had been refining his swordsmanship since four years ago.
That means the history of Moon Breathing's swordsmanship is barely four years old.... and back then, he was only ten. Despite that, his sword style is a match for the Corps' five-hundred-year history... No, in some aspects, it even surpasses it.
He claimed he had never killed a person, yet—whether intended or not—his style was incredibly aggressive, focused entirely on the efficient slaughter of an opponent.
Furthermore, because he lacked mobility, he didn't attack first; instead, he stayed stationary and countered, which allowed him to analyze his opponent's movements completely.
Truly, this man is a 'Sword Demon.' If the Echoing Hashira, Minase Hiyori, is a Sword Demon because she lacks human emotion, this man is a Sword Demon precisely because he understands the human heart so well.
Endless questions swirled in my mind. Is this boy truly only fifteen?
By now, he should have been swept away by the storm I conjured, yet he stood there calmly defending against every one of my strikes, like the moon hanging high and aloof in the sky.
Even against my most prized specialty—a relentless assault that left no openings—his composure never wavered.
In terms of talent and Breathing, he is far above me.
The only thing I have over him is...
Experience.
In terms of tricks and irregular tactics, I hold the upper hand.
The moment he focused on his wooden sword was my chance.
I could feel that my own wooden sword was at its limit just by holding it. This attack would be the last.
I had to end it with this strike.
First, I used Wind Breathing, Eighth Form: Primary Gale Slash to close the distance.
As expected, Tsugikuni took a stance meant to counter that specific form.
I have you.
After such a long exchange, I had finally found the gap.
Mid-way, I switched forms, pulling out the true technique hidden within the feint of the gale.
Using the momentum of the charge, I vaulted into the air and unleashed Wind Breathing, Ninth Form: Idaten Typhoon.
A storm that seemed ready to grind everything to dust swallowed Tsugikuni whole.
The aftermath shattered the wooden sword, but this range was impossible to dodge. Moreover, 'Idaten Typhoon' is the strongest technique in Wind Breathing's arsenal. This should have settled the match.
And yet...
The wooden sword broke. The attack definitely hit.
A range this wide cannot be avoided.
Then why... why does it not feel as though I struck anything at all?
In that instant.
*Thud!*
Only after a sliding sound did I feel the sudden surge of pain from behind.
Ha.
It seems this is the end. That pain must have been the finishing blow; all strength left my body.
"Slow... even in your fall."
This boy... in that split second, did he dodge the attack and get behind me...?
I looked at him as he stared impassively at my falling form and struggled to open my mouth.
"Since when... was it..."
"Then let me ask you one thing. Since when were you under the delusion that I wasn't using 'Kyoka Suigetsu'?"
I see. You were simply looking several steps ahead of me the entire time.
There truly is a sky above the sky. Good grief...
***
"Can he even hear me anymore?"
This guy is absolutely insane. Pulling a feint in the middle of that?
If I had kept relying solely on the 'Score,' I would have been turned into a pancake.
....
Wait, did I hit him too hard? I did strike him on the back of the head, and even though my wooden sword was falling apart, I swung hard enough that it snapped upon impact.
He isn't... dead, is he?
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