Beneath the silver moon, Kokushibo's tall figure stood in samurai attire, his six open eyes cold and indifferent.
Merely standing there, he brought tremendous pressure upon everyone present.
Some swordsmen gripping their Nichirin Swords even began to tremble beneath Kokushibo's emotionless gaze.
Almost the instant he spotted Soma, Kokushibo leapt down from the roof and slowly walked toward him with the blade forged from his own flesh in hand.
"Come back with me, boy."
Kokushibo spoke calmly as he walked. Even though he was surrounded by Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen, he acted as if no one else existed.
"Namu Amida Butsu."
Gyomei Himejima pressed his palms together, then suddenly moved. The spiked flail and axe linked by his chain were thrown almost instantly, tearing through the air with a heavy roar as they smashed toward Kokushibo.
The chain flashed coldly beneath the moonlight, and the heavy iron weapons seemed powerful enough to shatter even boulders.
Kokushibo's six eyes did not even shift.
He merely raised his blade sideways and effortlessly received the crushing blow.
Clang!
The violent collision of metal exploded through the night sky, sending a string of dazzling sparks bursting outward and briefly illuminating the surrounding darkness.
Those sparks lit up Gyomei Himejima's sorrowful, furious face, and they also revealed Kokushibo's expression, which remained as cold as ice from beginning to end.
Gyomei Himejima's heart sank.
He could feel that when his spiked flail struck Kokushibo's blade, it had not produced the effect he had expected.
It had not even made Kokushibo's hand move. Not so much as a tremor passed through the blade.
He blocked it so easily…
This was probably the second person to do so. The first had been Soma during their spar last time.
Kokushibo lowered his head and glanced at the spiked flail pressed against his blade. His six eyes narrowed slightly as he swept his gaze over Gyomei Himejima, faintly impressed.
That powerful physique, those bones and muscles honed through countless battles, were enough to draw even his attention.
But a human, in the end, could never compare to a demon.
Even a human body tempered to its limit still faced an uncrossable gulf before the body of a demon.
Gyomei Himejima clenched his teeth. The flail in his other hand was already swinging in, carrying a violent wind as it smashed toward the side of Kokushibo's face.
Kokushibo's expression did not change. His blade turned slightly, and with an almost effortless motion, it received both attacks at once.
The chain became entangled around his blade, and Gyomei Himejima's strength seemed to sink into a mire, unable to advance another inch.
"Namu Amida Butsu…"
Gyomei Himejima silently chanted the prayer and was just about to change moves when a white figure swept past his side.
Sanemi Shinazugawa had moved.
Rage burned in his eyes as wind howled around his Nichirin Sword. His entire body shot forward like an arrow released from a bowstring, thrusting straight toward Kokushibo's nape.
Wind Breathing, Fourth Form: Rising Dust Storm!
Sanemi Shinazugawa sharply seized the opening and launched a swift, deadly surprise attack from Kokushibo's blind spot.
But Kokushibo did not even turn his head.
His body seemed to have foreseen everything in advance. His blade slipped free from the chain, and with a reverse-handed block, the edge flashed.
Kokushibo's blade caught Sanemi Shinazugawa's attack in midair. In the next instant, the blade shook violently, sending a powerful force surging through it. Sanemi's grip trembled, and his Nichirin Sword nearly flew from his hand.
A heartbeat later, Kokushibo's blade came slashing down with the momentum of that motion.
Sanemi's pupils shrank sharply. He dodged to the side on instinct, and a burst of pain tore through his chest.
The blade sliced across the left side of Sanemi's ribs, sending blood spraying into the air.
Fortunately, Sanemi's reaction was fast enough for him to avoid injuries to his heart and abdomen, but the wound was still deep enough to reveal bone.
"Sanemi!" Kyojuro Rengoku's furious roar split the night.
He had already been poised to strike. Seeing his comrade wounded, his flame-like aura erupted in an instant.
Flame Breathing, Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!
Blazing fire seemed to ignite along his Nichirin Sword, and a tiger formed from roaring flames lunged toward Kokushibo. Waves of heat swept through the surroundings, distorting even the air.
Kokushibo finally turned slightly.
His expression remained calm, without the faintest ripple. His six eyes watched the charging flame tiger as he raised his blade.
A single slash.
Though he moved later, his strike arrived first.
The flash of his blade was faster than the flames, tearing through the air with a sharp scream before striking Rengoku's blade with perfect precision.
A tremendous force traveled through the weapon. Rengoku felt as though he had been struck by a mountain. His forward momentum collapsed in an instant, and his body flew backward beyond his control, crashing heavily to the ground and sliding several yards before coming to a stop.
In the span of a single breath, the attacks of three Hashira-level swordsmen had been neutralized.
This was the strength of Kokushibo, Upper Rank One of the Twelve Kizuki.
Even with three Hashira attacking together, including Gyomei Himejima, they had fallen into disadvantage almost immediately.
Yet despite gaining the upper hand, Kokushibo did not press the attack. From beginning to end, his gaze remained fixed on one person: the young demon standing behind them, calm and unmoving the entire time.
For some reason, Kokushibo sensed a fatal threat from him.
There was even a faint but powerful pressure.
He had not felt this sensation since that night beneath the red moon, when he faced his younger brother for the final time.
Yet now, he felt it from this person.
Kokushibo found it difficult to believe that a young demon he had never seen before could make him feel this way. No wonder his lord had taken notice of him.
"Come back with me, boy."
Almost without hesitation, he reached out, intending to seize Soma.
But the moment his hand extended, Kokushibo stopped. In that instant, warning bells of danger flashed through his mind.
And at that moment, Soma stepped forward.
Drew his blade.
Unsheathed it.
In an instant, cold light spilled everywhere, and the keen edge of the blade cut through the air with a roaring wind beside his ears.
Before the sound could fully reach him, the sharp arc of the blade had already descended.
The blade was faster than sound.
Clang!
At the very limit, Kokushibo raised his flesh blade and narrowly blocked the strike.
"What an impressive young demon."
Kokushibo gave a faint sigh of praise. "You nearly cut off my head."
"Oh? Did I?"
Blade in hand, Soma stood so close that only their crossed weapons separated their faces. His eyes lowered slightly, and his voice remained calm.
Kokushibo was about to say more, but his body suddenly stiffened.
A petite figure had appeared from the darkness without anyone noticing.
"Destructive Death, Final Form: Blue-Silver Chaotic Afterglow."
With the young woman at the center, hundreds of slashes were unleashed in a single instant at blinding speed. Every strike landed on Kokushibo's neck, which was harder than stone.
This had originally been one of Akaza's most powerful techniques.
Crack!
In almost an instant, Kokushibo's head was cut off. The young woman leapt back and once again hid within the shadow behind Soma. Only her pinkish-purple eyes had shone brightly for a moment.
Aside from that, she was almost completely silent.
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