Night fell, and Mount Momoyama was swallowed by a dense fog.
This was not the light, damp mist common in mountain forests. It was heavier, suffocating, like gray dust scattered through the air.
Yet Asuka, sitting cross-legged in meditation indoors, had not noticed the anomaly.
He closed his eyes as his breathing rhythm gradually shifted.
Through constant experimentation, he had already learned to switch seamlessly between Flame Breathing and Wind Breathing, merging them into his own Storm.
Now he felt the scorching current of air flowing down his windpipe into the deepest part of his lungs, then spreading through his limbs using the force technique of Thunder Breathing, quietly observing the changes within his body.
Crackle.
In the stillness of the night, a faint black-red spark flickered briefly at the tip of Asuka's nose.
It was his Spiritual Pressure resonating with Thunder Breathing after being compressed to an extreme degree.
"So that's how it is..."
Asuka opened his eyes, a trace of realization passing through his dark pupils.
"Looks like it's time to head back."
After these past few days of insight, he had basically grasped the true essence of Thunder Breathing.
Though he was still far from reaching its peak, that had never been his goal. He only sought to discover the common ground between the different breathing styles.
"Next, as long as I consult Tomioka and Himejima, I should be able to..."
A nauseating, blood-soaked Spiritual Pressure suddenly spread through the mountain fog, closing in from every direction.
The aura of demons.
And not just one or two.
Asuka's senses sharpened instantly. Grabbing Nugata, he rushed outside.
Standing in the center of the sandy courtyard, he gripped the sword hilt tightly, feeling the surging malice gathering around them. Confusion rose in his mind.
Why were there so many demons?
He wasn't exactly an expert on demon behavior, but even he knew demons rarely moved in such organized groups. Each had its own territory and habits.
Could it be... Muzan's orders?
"Old man, wake up," Asuka called quietly toward the house.
"Tch, what's all this noise in the middle of the night? I was sleeping!" Jigoro Kuwajima's voice came from inside, tinged with annoyance at having his rest disturbed.
The door slid open.
The old man's sleepy eyes instantly sharpened like an eagle's the moment he sensed the malice in the air.
Though he had lost a leg, though he had retired many years ago, the instincts of a former Hashira were carved into his bones.
From within the shadows of the thick fog, grotesque silhouettes slowly emerged.
They dropped from tree branches, crawled out from behind dirt slopes. A rough count revealed more than fifteen of them.
Kuwajima's brows twisted together.
"None of them are particularly strong, but what is this number? Momoyama's location is extremely secretive. In all these years, no demon has ever infiltrated it."
These demons were not especially powerful. Most of them couldn't even approach the threshold of the Lower ranks.
But their steps were uniform, and their target was extremely clear.
They had come for Jigoro Kuwajima.
"Hehehe... so you really are here..."
A three-eyed demon stepped out from behind an old peach tree, drool dripping greedily from its mouth.
"That retired Thunder Hashira... Oh? And an unexpected bonus. A young swordsman?"
"Kill them! The Kizuki will reward us!"
The demon horde shrieked sharply, their foul stench instantly filling the entire courtyard.
Jigoro Kuwajima snorted coldly. He tossed aside his crutch, his right hand already resting on the hilt of his Nichirin Blade.
"I may be old, but I'm not so old that you pieces of trash can run wild in my courtyard!"
"Old man, stay back."
Asuka stepped forward, standing in front of Kuwajima.
In the next instant, Nugata left its sheath.
Clang!
"Total Concentration: Storm Breathing."
Asuka didn't use any complex sword forms.
He only wanted to test the explosive technique of Thunder Breathing he had just realized over the past two days.
One step forward.
Boom!
The stone bricks beneath his feet shattered instantly as Asuka's figure turned into an afterimage too fast for the naked eye to follow.
Previously, he could only achieve such speed by concentrating Spiritual Pressure at the tips of his feet.
The three demons charging at the front didn't even have time to locate their enemy before their vision began spinning.
Slash slash slash!
Three grotesque heads flew into the air simultaneously. The cuts were so fast that the severed surfaces hung in the air for a moment before black blood began spraying out.
"What?!"
The remaining demons halted in terror.
They had never seen such violent swordsmanship. The wind pressure produced by the serrated blade slicing through the air felt like countless invisible beasts tearing wildly around them.
"Damn it! It's a Hashira!"
They had only received orders to kill the old man. How could there be such a powerful swordsman here?
Asuka's figure vanished again.
He moved through the demon horde like a phantom. Every swing of Nugata scattered foul demon blood.
Some demons were sliced cleanly in half at the waist.
Others had half their bodies shredded apart.
Some had their throats torn open by the serrated blade while screaming in agony.
In order to fully test the effects of Thunder Breathing, Asuka deliberately avoided decapitating them immediately. The result made him look more like a demon himself.
Even so, these weak demons could not withstand Nugata's devouring power. Even being cut at the waist caused them to wail as they died.
Watching this scene, Jigoro Kuwajima was utterly stunned.
"Are all young people like this now? Old men like us really should retire..."
Less than three minutes passed.
Of the more than fifteen arrogant demons that had filled the courtyard moments earlier, only one remained alive.
Both of its legs had been severed at the roots. It crawled frantically through the dirt with its hands, trying to escape the slaughterhouse Asuka had created.
Asuka walked up behind it, pressing the tip of his Zanpakuto against its back.
"P-Please... don't kill me..."
The demon trembled violently, extreme fear filling its eyes.
"Don't joke around. I'm definitely going to kill you. The only question is whether it will be quick or painful."
Asuka slowly pushed the blade tip into its skin.
"Who gave you the information? How did you find this place?"
"I don't know... I really don't know..."
As Nugata's Spiritual Pressure poured into its body, the demon screamed in agony. Its psychological defenses collapsed almost instantly.
"It was... it was Lady Nakime! She used her biwa to teleport us directly to the foot of the mountain! I really didn't mean to come here!"
Jigoro Kuwajima glared angrily.
"What is Nakime? Another demon? Why target an old useless man like me?"
"B-because... because of that newly promoted Kizuki!"
The demon seemed to suddenly remember the key piece of information and hurriedly confessed through tears.
"That new lord! The one who inherited Thunder Breathing! Inside the Infinity Castle, he told the Master that the Thunder Hashira is the final foundation of Thunder Breathing. As long as you're killed, the entire lineage will be cut off..."
The air froze.
Jigoro Kuwajima's hands began trembling violently, his pupils reddening from extreme shock.
"That person you're talking about... who is it?"
The old man's voice was hoarse, as if it had been squeezed out from the depths of his lungs.
"His name... his name is Kaigaku!"
The demon spat out the name viciously, a twisted sense of revenge in its voice.
"He is the new Upper Rank Six! Not only does he want you dead, he wants all of Momoyama to become a graveyard! That bastard tricked us into coming here to die... you have to kill him! Hahahaha!"
Slash!
Asuka did not hesitate. With a single strike, he cut off the demon's head.
He turned and looked at Jigoro Kuwajima.
The Thunder Hashira who usually appeared eccentric and humorous, almost like a mischievous old man, now seemed to have aged decades in an instant.
His already hunched back collapsed completely, his body swaying unsteadily in the cold autumn fog.
"Kaigaku..."
Kuwajima murmured the name.
In his eyes there was no anger.
Only a bottomless despair and sorrow.