Time moves forward slightly.
Just as Yamada casually punched Sekido away in front of the guest room and sliced through the gale with a sword, Muichiro, who had been forcibly blown away by Karaku's fan, crashed through layers of tree canopies like a white meteor, finally falling heavily into the dense forest behind the Swordsmith Village.
The violent impact made Muichiro's internal organs churn, but relying on his tempered Hashira-level physique, he forcibly twisted his waist and abdomen the moment he landed, his feet plowing through the ground as he steadied himself.
As soon as he looked up, his hollow eyes narrowed slightly.
On the forest path not far away, several swordsmiths wearing Hyottoko masks were scrambling to escape. Behind them, two bloated, deformed fish-head demons with limbs were opening their bloodthirsty maws, thick saliva dripping onto the grass, making a hissing corrosive sound.
"Help! Someone save us!"
Kotetsu, running at the very back, tripped and fell to the ground, watching as the fish demon's claws were about to descend.
Swish!
A blade swept past like morning mist.
The two fish demons stopped abruptly, their ugly heads sliding off along the cut, and their bodies turned to ash in mid-air.
Muichiro expressionlessly shook the residual blood off his nichirin blade and pulled Kotetsu up from the ground.
"It's not safe here. Where is the village's smithy? Lead the way."
Muichiro's thinking was clear. Since there was a large-scale invasion of demons, the smithy, being the core target, would definitely be a disaster area.
Under the guidance of Kotetsu and another swordsmith, Muichiro passed through the forest and arrived in front of a hidden smithy.
Before they even got close, a thick, nauseating smell of blood assaulted their noses.
In the open space outside the workshop were several creepy "artworks." They were chunks of flesh forcibly pieced and sewn together from the severed limbs of several swordsmiths, mixed with broken nichirin blades.
A monster with pale skin, emerging halfway from a porcelain pot covered in strange patterns, was admiring his masterpiece with intoxication.
He had multiple disproportionate small hands on his body, and the positions of his eyes and mouth were completely chaotic. Two golden eyeballs grew on his forehead and chin, respectively, clearly engraved with the words "Upper Rank" and "Five."
"Hee hee hee... Look at this exquisite arc, listen to the swan song-like wails of these swordsmiths before they die. What elegant art this is!" Gyokko twisted his body excitedly.
"Poor taste."
An emotionless voice interrupted his self-intoxication.
Muichiro had already appeared on the roof at some point, looking down at Gyokko with undisguised disgust in his eyes. "It makes me sick just looking at it. You call this stuff art?"
Stung in his weak spot, Gyokko flew into a rage instantly, his forehead eyeballs staring fixedly at Muichiro. "You ignorant, lowly monkey! How dare you insult my hard work! Become fish food!"
Blood Demon Art: Thousand Needle Fish Kill!
Gyokko waved his hands, and hundreds of sharp, poisonous needles sprayed out from several porcelain pots floating in mid-air, shooting toward Muichiro like a torrential rain.
Mist Breathing, Third Form: Scattering Mist Splash!
Muichiro's expression remained unchanged, his nichirin blade turning into a rapidly spinning wheel of light, protecting his body airtight. The poisonous needles collided with the blade, making a dense, crisp sound, and were all deflected.
"Too slow."
Muichiro kicked off the ground, his whole body seeming to melt into the thin mist, instantly closing in on Gyokko, his blade aiming straight for his twisted neck.
However, a sinister arc curled on the corner of Gyokko's lips. He didn't dodge, instead letting the blade sever his body.
Plop.
The severed body shriveled like shed snake skin, while the real Gyokko had already crawled out from another pot behind Muichiro.
"Caught you, little monkey."
Gyokko's hands slammed together.
Blood Demon Art: Water Prison Pot!
Splash!
A giant water ball composed entirely of high-density, viscous water formed around Muichiro without warning, wrapping him tightly inside.
No matter how Muichiro swung his sword inside the water ball, the soft yet extremely resilient water would slide along the blade, impossible to cut through.
The most fatal part was that the water ball completely cut off the air. Being unable to breathe meant being unable to use breathing techniques, and the swordsman's strength would rapidly drain as hypoxia set in.
"Hee hee hee! Suffocate slowly in my water pot. When your face turns a beautiful purple from lack of oxygen, I will turn you into the perfect specimen!" Gyokko laughed triumphantly, then turned to look at the closed door of the workshop.
"Now, let me see what kind of sword that guy named Haganezuka is grinding inside."
In the water prison, Muichiro's consciousness began to blur, his lungs feeling a tearing pain from the lack of oxygen.
He watched Gyokko walk toward the workshop, wanting to struggle, but his limbs felt as heavy as lead.
'Am I going to die here...'
Just as Muichiro's vision was gradually falling into darkness, at the critical moment.
Love Breathing, Second Form: Love Pangs!
A blade, soft like a pink ribbon yet extremely sharp, descended from the sky like lightning. This specially made soft sword instantly sliced through the incredibly tough water pot with a strange trajectory that ordinary people couldn't comprehend.
With a splash, the water ball trapping Muichiro collapsed, turning into a sky full of water spray.
"Cough, cough!" Muichiro fell to the ground, greedily gasping for fresh air, his eyes refocusing.
"Sorry! I'm late! Tokito-kun, are you okay?"
Mitsuri retracted her nichirin blade that resembled a long whip, standing in front of Muichiro with a worried face.
She had originally been soaking in a hot spring on the other side of the village, and after noticing something unusual, she immediately rushed over with her sword.
Seeing that the newcomer was the Love Hashira, Gyokko laughed instead of getting angry. "Another monkey here to die. This soft figure would look great as a vase just like those swordsmiths."
"You are not allowed to insult these swordsmiths who protect the village!" Mitsuri's face flushed red with anger, flames igniting in her eyes.
Without any hesitation, she exerted force with her legs, her body erupting with terrifying explosive power that contradicted her appearance, charging straight at Gyokko.
The soft nichirin blade seemed to have a life of its own in her hands, turning into a long whip dancing in the sky, instantly slicing the dozens of fish demons summoned by Gyokko into pieces with an extremely dense attack frequency.
"So fast! This woman's strength is not right!"
Gyokko was startled and hurriedly dived into his pots, dodging back and forth between the porcelain pots in the open space.
"Don't think you can run!"
Muichiro, having caught his breath, also joined the battle, his sword skills combined with Mitsuri's attacks, continuously compressing Gyokko's range of movement.