Chapter 138: The First Demon Slayer Budokai
The next day.
"Weren't they having a harmonious little gathering yesterday? Why is the
atmosphere so tense today?"
Supported by a Kakushi, Ubuyashiki Kagaya slowly walked onto the porch. He
looked with slight surprise at the courtyard, where several Hashira stood with
heavy auras, locked in a silent standoff.
He turned to the Kakushi beside him. "And what are those wooden signs over
there?"
On the other side of the garden, a Kakushi held a series of placards. They were
inscribed with the characters: [FLAME] [STORM] [LUMINARY] [STONE]. Behind each
name, a prominent "0" was written in white chalk, clearly for scorekeeping.
"Oyakata-sama, um... well," the Kakushi explained nervously. "The Pillars have
decided to hold a series of competitive sparring matches."
Takizuki, standing nearby with sharp ears, immediately raised her hand. "There
are only four combatants! I'm just here as the leisurely referee~"
The Kakushi wiped sweat from his brow and quickly briefed the Master on the
origins and rules of what Natsuya had dubbed the [First Demon Slayer Budokai].
The refined young Master let out a laugh that was half-curious and
half-helpless. "Natsuya-kun truly has a way of bringing unexpected surprises to
this mansion."
To be honest, Kagaya was quite curious himself. "Power-scaling" debates weren't
just for the internet forums of the future—they were a timeless human obsession.
The rules were simple. Natsuya had used white powder to draw a 30-meter square
"Ring" in the courtyard. Stepping out of bounds, losing consciousness, or
surrendering resulted in a loss. Each winner would receive one point on the
board. The format was a round-robin: everyone would fight everyone else exactly
once. Each participant could earn a maximum of three points.
There were several "Fair Play" sub-rules: No firearms (looking at you, Natsuya),
no bombs (looking at you, Uzui—though he wasn't in this bracket), and an
immediate "Cease Fire" command if a opponent yielded.
Basically, the goal was a high-level data exchange with low-risk parameters.
"In short," Natsuya said, cracking his knuckles as he stepped into the ring
first. "We'll know who's on top once we start swinging."
His first opponent: his Senior Brother, Igarashi Uzen.
For once, the peaceful, bespectacled young man allowed a spark of battle-lust to
ignite in his eyes. He pushed his glasses up. "Natsuya, I assume you've become
significantly stronger since our mission against the Lower Moon?"
Back when Natsuya was still grinding the basic five, that "One-Inch Punch" had
left a deep impression on him. Now that Natsuya had reached the "Ascension"
phase and created his own style, his progress had to be substantial.
I need to play this match with 100% focus, Igarashi thought.
"Aizen-senpai, I'm going to be honest," Natsuya smirked. "I'm currently so
strong it's actually scary."
"Even you won't be able to stall me for long."
Since he was facing a Hashira, Natsuya had no intention of nerfing himself. He
immediately triggered his Breathing Style. The vast, Abyssal aura of Luminary
Breathing spread across the courtyard like a silent, incoming tide.
The Storm Hashira let out a helpless chuckle. His Junior usually gave off a
steady, even polite impression—but every so often, he'd sprout these
ridiculously arrogant lines.
"Oh? Then I look forward to being enlightened, Natsuya."
Igarashi slowly drew his Nichirin Sword. Storm Breathing began to circulate. The
watery blue steel hummed in sync with his lungs, conjuring a refreshing but
high-velocity mountain gale that swirled around his frame, fluttering his hair
and sleeves.
Last time, Igarashi hadn't even used a Breathing Style until Natsuya forced his
hand. This time, facing a fellow Pillar, Igarashi showed zero negligence.
Takizuki Himorogi raised her right arm high.
[Luminary Breathing] vs [Storm Breathing]
"COMBAT—" Her clear voice spiked in volume before she whipped her arm down.
"BEGIN!"
In an instant, both swordsmen vanished from their spots. It was a high-speed
lunge that pushed the limits of the human eye.
"First Form: Solar Sunday — LONE PLUME OF DESERT SMOKE!" "Second Form: SIGHT OF
THE FALLING LEAF!"
One strike was a condensed, straight line of light—a "Plume" of vacuum that
seemed to slice through space itself, trailing dark-red embers. The other was a
fluid, graceful arc that whipped up fallen leaves while hiding a razor-sharp
wind intended to shear through air currents.
The "Setting Sun of the Desert" and the "Storm of the Mountain" collided.
Steel met steel. Sparks erupted.
The light illuminated the excitement in Natsuya's eyes and the momentary shock
behind Igarashi's lenses.
This child... his speed and power are already equal to mine? Did I get weaker?
No, I've been training daily. He's just growing at a rate that defies logic.
Noticing Igarashi's surprise, Natsuya decided to drop a mid-fight taunt.
"Senior! You should drink less coffee! It's making your bones brittle!"
Ignoring the locked blades, Natsuya's boot snapped out in a savage stomp aimed
directly at Igarashi's foot.
In any martial art, the base is everything. If you pin an opponent's movement,
their options drop by 90% and their DPS tanks.
However, Igarashi moved as if he had read the script. Almost the exact frame
Natsuya's shoulder twitched and his center of gravity dropped, Igarashi
sidestepped the stomp trajectory.
Sen-no-Sen.
Based on the subtle shift in Natsuya's muscle fibers and his understanding of
kinetic logic, Igarashi could simulate Natsuya's moves one second before they
happened.
BUT.
That was the "Old" Natsuya. The Natsuya of today was a different beast.
Armed with [Insight] and the System's combat assistance, combined with the data
from thousands of "Gamer" hours, Natsuya could perform a "Secondary Shift."
As Igarashi dodged, Natsuya's movement changed mid-animation. The stomp was
revealed to be a "Cancel." His weight shifted forward. Using his shoulder as an
axis and his hips as the engine, he lunged with his entire body.
He became a drawn bow suddenly released.
"Style: LITE-TETSUZANKO (Iron Mountain Lean)!"
This kid... He can perform a 'double-feint' even while being read by
Sen-no-Sen?!
Igarashi was stunned, but he didn't panic. He was a veteran. Instead of
retreating, he leaned into the impact, closing the gap to jam Natsuya's leverage
before the strike could reach full power.
The exchange was a flash of frames. In the single breath following the first
clash of steel, the two had initiated and discarded four different offensive and
defensive intents.
In the end, this micro-exchange resulted in Igarashi taking a minor "Poise" hit.
When "Vision" (Sen-no-Sen) is equal, "Armament" (Raw stats and Body density)
becomes the deciding factor. And Natsuya's numbers had finally surpassed
Igarashi's.
Body stats are close, but the UR-multiplier of Luminary Breathing and my higher
Tech stat are tipping the scales, Natsuya noted.
Next heartbeat, Igarashi recalibrated his lungs and lunged again. He was as fast
as a gale, the whistle of his blade constant and sharp. He clashed with
Natsuya's own high-speed edge and the occasional parry from the boy's metal
gauntlets.
A cacophony of sparks and kinetic shockwaves filled the ring.
The other Hashira watched with grim, focused expressions. Honestly, Natsuya's
"Martial Arts Tournament" was proving to be more valuable than they had
expected. Once a warrior reached the "Hashira" tier, they hit a wall. There were
no opponents left to sharpen them.
Cultivators? They had surpassed them years ago. Lower Moons? Without Blood Demon
Arts, they were just training dummies to be deleted in one hit.
Their daily routine had become a stagnant loop of physical conditioning. Seeing
two of their own go at it like this was a wake-up call.
Maybe a 'Ranking Tournament' isn't a bad idea for the office culture, Shinjuro
and Gyomei both thought.
Takizuki Himorogi, however, was thinking something else.
Igarashi... he's stronger than he was at the last meeting. If you factor in his
'Sen-no-Sen,' it's a toss-up between him and me for the Number 3 spot.
But little Natsuya-kun... he's actually suppressing Igarashi? Does that mean he
can suppress ME whenever he wants?!
The usually lazy and casual Wing Hashira felt a massive "Danger" alarm go off in
her head.
Wait... am I the bottom-tier unit of the current Nine Hashira?!
Takizuki felt a surge of adrenaline. Thank the Sun she was clever enough to
volunteer as the referee. She had avoided the "Ranking Match" and thus avoided
the official "Last Place" label.
Safety first!
She forgot her professional neutral stance as a ref and pumped a fist toward her
bespectacled colleague.
"IGARASHI! GO FOR IT! AS HIS SENIOR, YOU CAN'T LOSE TO LITTLE NATSUYA!"
As long as you don't lose, then I, Takizuki Himorogi—who 'technically' beat you
in a spar once—am still Number Three!
My logic is flawless!
☆☆☆
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