Susamaru's severed arms regenerated once more. She giggled happily.
"How wonderful, Yahaba! Let's take all their heads back and make that Lord very pleased!"
Yahaba shifted into an attacking stance. The eyes in his palms fixed on Aoyama.
"No. Three heads are enough. The rest are unnecessary."
To him, Nezuko and Yushiro were irrelevant.
The only useful heads were Tanjiro's, Aoyama's, and the "traitor" Tamayo's.
Aoyama gently set Nezuko down.
"Stay behind me. Don't get hurt, alright?"
He stepped forward to shield her.
Yahaba sneered.
At a time like this, he was still worrying about a demon's safety?
Soon enough, his head would belong to him.
The eyes in Yahaba's palms flicked—
Four crimson arrows shot toward Aoyama.
Aoyama frowned.
Yahaba was targeting him specifically. Good. The farther from Nezuko, the safer she would be.
His thoughts aligned with his movement. He dashed swiftly, the arrows chasing relentlessly behind him. Wherever they struck, the destruction rivaled Susamaru's temari balls.
When the four arrows aligned in parallel—
Aoyama leapt onto a nearby tree.
As the arrows adjusted their trajectory and turned toward him—
He jumped down.
Raising his blade high above his head, he slashed at the incoming arrows.
Clang—
The arrows bent like elastic ropes.
They couldn't be severed.
They curved under the blade's force, then snapped back with recoil.
Using that rebound, Aoyama flipped away and landed several meters off.
The arrows crashed into the ground, blasting out a crater.
On the other side, Tanjiro and Yushiro struggled in a fierce battle against Susamaru.
Aoyama continued analyzing the arrows calmly while dodging. The moment he touched one, his body would be manipulated in its direction.
As he evaded, his hand scooped up a handful of dirt.
Yahaba smirked as Aoyama charged toward him.
Was he planning to repeat the trick he used on Susamaru?
Heh. Impossible.
The eye in his palm focused sharply.
Just a little closer—
Closer—
What?!
Yahaba's expression changed.
Aoyama didn't approach directly.
At the final moment—
He leapt into the air.
"Here's a gift for you!"
Midair, perfectly above Yahaba's head, Aoyama scattered the dirt downward.
"Ahhh! Filthy!!!"
Yahaba raised his arms in fury to shield himself.
Good.
Anger created openings.
"Total Concentration!
Water Breathing!
Second Form — Water Wheel!"
His blade shimmered with flowing water patterns as it struck Yahaba's raised arm.
Thud—
The arm fell, turning to ash.
"Brat!"
Aoyama's eyes caught the Line of Gap.
He swung again—
But the moment Yahaba's remaining palm-eye met his gaze and closed—
The line snapped.
Two arrows shot at Aoyama.
He dodged swiftly.
These arrows wouldn't stop until they hit him.
Annoying.
Yahaba regenerated his severed arm while Aoyama evaded.
"Enough! Die already!"
More arrows burst forth.
Aoyama glanced at the pursuing arrows.
First, he needed to alter their direction.
Only then could he close the distance.
Out of the corner of his eye, he met Tanjiro's gaze.
They understood each other.
"Total Concentration!
Water Breathing!
Sixth Form — Whirlpool!"
A powerful current spiraled from his blade, dragging the approaching arrows into the vortex.
With sword in hand, Aoyama charged straight toward Yahaba.
This time—
He would take his head.
"Total Concentration!
Water Breathing!
Third Form — Flowing Dance!"
The distance between them shrank rapidly.
Yahaba unleashed more arrows desperately to halt him.
"Total Concentration!
Water Breathing!
Flowing Dance—Whirlpool!"
He combined the Third and Sixth Forms.
Perfect synergy.
The blade grew heavier in his grip.
Aoyama gritted his teeth and launched himself from the ground despite the strain.
The Line of Gap reconnected—
Linking his blade to Yahaba's neck.
"Total Concentration!
Light Breathing!
Second Form — Light Burst!"
White radiance flared along the blade.
As it descended—
The airflow split cleanly in two.
Aoyama landed.
He exhaled.
Yahaba stood seemingly unharmed—
Until a thin line of blood appeared down the center of his body.
"Im… impossible… how…"
Light seeped through the fissure.
Boom—
His body split apart violently.
The palm-eyes he prized rolled across the ground before coming to a stop.
Aoyama smirked and brushed his bangs aside.
Light Breathing, Second Form—Light Burst.
No flashy stance.
But its destructive force far surpassed the First Form.
Enough to cleave Yahaba in a single strike.
One demon down.
One left.
And the night was far from over.
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