Time shifts back slightly.
Just as Rin casually punched Sekido away outside the guest room and sliced through Karaku's gale, the Mist Hashira, Tokito Muichiro—who had been blasted away by the fan—tore through layers of treetops like a white meteor, finally crashing into the dense forest behind the Swordsmith Village.
The impact made his organs churn, but with a Hashira's hardened physique, he twisted his waist mid-landing, his feet carving into the ground as he forced himself steady.
The moment he looked up, his hollow eyes narrowed.
Not far ahead, several swordsmiths wearing Hyottoko masks were fleeing in panic.
Behind them, two grotesque, bloated fish-headed demons gave chase, their bloodied maws wide open as thick saliva dripped onto the grass, hissing as it corroded the ground.
"Help! Someone save us!"
Kotetsu, running at the rear, stumbled and fell, watching helplessly as a demon's claw came down toward him.
Swish!
A pale, mist-like slash swept past.
The two fish demons froze—then their heads slid cleanly off, their bodies turning to ash before they hit the ground.
Muichiro shook the blood from his Nichirin Blade without expression and pulled Kotetsu to his feet.
"It's not safe here. Where is the village's smithy? Lead the way."
His reasoning was simple—if demons had launched a large-scale assault, the smithy, as the core of the Swordsmith Village, would be the primary target.
Guided by Kotetsu and another swordsmith, Muichiro cut through the forest and arrived at a concealed workshop.
Before they even stepped closer, a thick, nauseating stench of blood filled the air.
In the clearing outside lay several grotesque "artworks"—mangled flesh stitched together from severed limbs, mixed with broken Nichirin Blades.
Half-emerged from a porcelain pot etched with twisted patterns, a pale-skinned monster admired the scene with intoxicated delight.
His body was covered in small, mismatched hands, while his eyes and mouth were placed in chaotic positions. Two golden eyes sat on his forehead and chin, each engraved with "Upper Rank" and "Five."
"Hee hee hee… Look at these exquisite curves. Listen to the swan-song wails of these swordsmiths before death. What refined art this is!" Upper Rank Five, Gyokko, twisted his body in excitement.
"Disgusting."
A flat voice cut through his reverie.
Muichiro had already appeared on the roof at some point, looking down at Gyokko with undisguised disdain. "Just looking at it makes me sick. And you call this art?"
Faaah!
Struck at his sore spot, Gyokko flew into a rage, the eyes on his forehead locking onto Muichiro.
"You ignorant, filthy monkey! How dare you insult my masterpiece! Become fish food!"
"Blood Demon Art: Thousand Needle Fish Kill!"
With a wave of his hands, hundreds of sharp, venomous needles shot out from several floating pots, raining down on Muichiro.
"Mist Breathing, Third Form: Scattering Mist Splash."
Muichiro remained calm as his blade spun into a wheel of light, forming an airtight defense.
The needles clattered against it in rapid succession, all deflected.
"Too slow."
Muichiro stepped forward, his figure dissolving into the surrounding mist as he instantly closed the distance, his blade slicing toward Gyokko's twisted neck.
But a sinister smile curled on Gyokko's lips.
He didn't dodge.
Instead, he let the blade pass through him.
Plop.
The severed body shriveled like a shed skin, while the real Gyokko emerged from another pot behind Muichiro.
"Got you, little monkey."
Gyokko slammed his hands together.
"Blood Demon Art: Water Prison Pot!"
Splash!
A massive sphere of dense, viscous water formed instantly around Muichiro, trapping him inside.
No matter how he swung his blade, the water—soft yet impossibly resilient—flowed around the edge, impossible to cut through.
Worse, the sphere completely cut off the air.
Without oxygen, he couldn't use Breathing Techniques. As suffocation set in, his strength began to drain rapidly.
"Hee hee hee! Slowly suffocate in my water prison. When your face turns a beautiful shade of purple, I'll turn you into the perfect specimen!" Gyokko laughed, then turned toward the sealed workshop door. "Now, let me see what kind of sword that fellow Haganezuka is forging inside."
Inside the water prison, Muichiro's vision blurred, his lungs burning from the lack of air.
He watched Gyokko approach the workshop, trying to move, but his limbs felt heavy as lead.
"Is this… where I die…"
Just as darkness began to close in—
"Love Breathing, Second Form: Love Pangs!"
A ribbon-like slash of pink light descended from above, soft in appearance yet razor-sharp.
Mitsuri's flexible Nichirin Blade carved through the water sphere along an impossible trajectory.
Splash!
The prison collapsed, exploding into a spray of water.
"Cough—cough!"
Muichiro dropped to the ground, gasping desperately as his vision cleared.
"Sorry, sorry! I'm late! Tokito-kun, are you okay?"
Kanroji Mitsuri stood in front of him, retracting her whip-like pink blade, her expression full of concern.
She had been at a hot spring on the other side of the village, and the moment she sensed something wrong, she rushed over.
Seeing the Love Hashira arrive, Gyokko only laughed.
"Another female monkey coming to die. That soft body would make a fine vase, just like those week swordsmiths."
"You are not allowed to insult the swordsmiths who protect this village!"
Mitsuri's face flushed with anger, her eyes blazing.
Without hesitation, she kicked off the ground, her seemingly delicate body bursting with explosive power as she charged forward.
Her flexible blade danced through the air like a living ribbon, its rapid strikes instantly slicing apart the dozens of fish demons Gyokko summoned.
So fast! This woman's strength is abnormal!
Startled, Gyokko dove into his pots, darting between them to evade.
"Don't think you can run!"
Having caught his breath, Muichiro joined the fight. His Mist Breathing synchronized with Mitsuri's attacks, steadily tightening the net around Gyokko.
Watching his "artworks" destroyed and his prized pots shattered, Gyokko's rage exploded.
"Unforgivable! You filthy monkeys!"
He emerged from his last remaining pot, his body beginning to warp violently.
His pot-like lower half vanished, replaced by a scaled, serpentine tail, while his hands transformed into webbed claws.
Upper Rank Five—true form.
"You should feel honored—"
Before he could finish, the world changed.
The star-filled sky was swallowed in seconds by thick, ink-black thunderclouds.
The temperature spiked as moisture was stripped from the air, replaced by an overwhelming aura of destruction.
"What… is this pressure?"
Mitsuri tightened her grip on her blade and looked up.
Muichiro frowned—this was no natural phenomenon.
Gyokko's scales stood on end, an instinctive terror surging from deep within his being.
He turned in horror toward the other side of the village—toward Hantengu's position.
Boom!
A deep thunderclap shattered the silence of the valley.
In the next instant, under their horrified gazes, lightning began to gather wildly within the depths of the clouds. An ancient beast formed entirely of thunder emerged from the heavens, exuding a crushing, world-dominating pressure.
Kirin.
Its blinding blue-white light illuminated the entire Swordsmith Village like day.
Every arc of lightning carried enough power to level the entire mountain range.
"Wh-what is that?!" Gyokko's voice rose sharply, his eyes nearly bulging out.
No matter how much he prided himself on being a perfect work of art, before this force of nature, his hardened scales were no more than paper.
Had the heavens themselves grown angry?
Rumble—!!!
The lightning descended as a pillar of light that connected the sky and the land, striking the far side of the village.
There were no words to describe the shock of that moment.
The ground trembled violently. Even from a distance, the shockwave cracked the earth around the workshop, tearing open deep fissures.
A scorching gale swept over, carrying the stench of burnt earth. Mitsuri and Muichiro were forced back again and again, stabbing their blades into the ground just to keep their footing.
The blinding light lingered for several seconds. When the world finally regained its color, faint ionized afterglow still lingered in the night sky.
"Gulp…"
Gyokko swallowed, his entire body trembling.
He could clearly sense it—after that strike, Hantengu's presence had completely vanished.
Along with all his clones, he had been erased from existence, leaving not even a trace.
"Dead? That slippery Hantengu… was killed in one blow?!"
Gyokko's mind went blank.
Run. He had to run. There was something in this village beyond all reason.
Just as he was about to retreat and burrow into the ground, a bright voice rang out behind him.
"That was amazing! That wild, overbearing lightning—it has to be Rin-san's move!"
Kanroji Mitsuri clasped her hands over her chest, pink stars sparkling in her eyes.
The overwhelming pressure hadn't frightened her—instead, it only excited her more.
"Rin-san must have already taken care of the enemy over there! We can't fall behind either, Tokito-kun!"
Muichiro heard the name and recalled the black-haired young man who had stopped his attack with one hand and mocked him for chopping wood.
So… that was his true power?
The kind of force that could erase an Upper Rank in an instant…
Gyokko's heart sank.
That monster… was human? And he was coming this way?!
"Don't joke! I am one of the noble Twelve Kizuki!" Gyokko roared, his serpent tail writhing as he tried desperately to escape into the forest.
But a lazy voice drifted in with the night wind.
"Why run? Stay. Let me see what kind of 'art' you're made of."
Gyokko froze, turning his head stiffly.
Under the moonlight, a young man in a black haori approached at an unhurried pace, one hand tucked into his pocket.
Behind him were Tanjiro carrying the wooden box, along with Zenitsu and Inosuke, still trembling from the earlier display.
Rin stopped less than ten steps away.
His black hair stirred lightly in the wind.
Even without activating the Sharingan, his mere presence felt like an immovable mountain, sealing off every possible escape.
"Long time no see."
Rin glanced briefly at the starstruck Mitsuri and the silent Muichiro, then slowly drew the Kusanagi sword.
"This fish-faced freak with baby hands seemed pretty lively just now. Mind if I step in and take over?"
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12 Advance chapters:Patreon/slept01