"Die!!!"
The afterimage in mid-air suddenly split in two, and Gyokko's main body, wearing a hideous grin, swooped down from the visual blind spot directly above Yamada.
His webbed, sharp claws aimed directly for the top of Yamada's head.
'As long as you are touched by my hand, even by a single hair, you will instantly turn into a fish! This is my most elegant art!' Gyokko screamed crazily in his heart.
Ten meters, five meters, one meter!
Just at the moment when those scaled claws were less than half a foot from the top of Yamada's head.
Yamada raised his free left hand, reaching up to meet Gyokko's claws.
"Idiot! To dare to catch my hand with your flesh!"
Gyokko was overjoyed, as if he had already seen this arrogant young man turn into a fish, flopping around on the ground in a comical fashion.
Snap.
Yamada's five fingers firmly gripped Gyokko's wrist.
There was no physical mutation as Gyokko had expected, nor any feedback from the activation of the Blood Demon Art.
Because, a tenth of a second before their skin touched, a high-density lightning had already surged from Yamada's palm, forcefully pouring into Gyokko's body a step ahead.
Zzzzzz—
Lightning Release: Chidori!
A piercing roar of electric current exploded.
Gyokko felt his entire right arm instantly lose sensation, and immediately after, a numbing and burning sensation that could tear even the soul apart swept through his whole body.
The cells inside him, used to activate the Blood Demon Art, were instantly carbonized by the thousands-of-degree heat the moment they came into contact with this manic thunder.
"Ahhhhh!"
Gyokko let out a shrill scream, his high-speed diving kinetic energy forcibly brought to a halt by Yamada's grab, and he was left dangling in mid-air, twitching all over.
"Is this your so-called art?"
Yamada looked up at the contorted Gyokko in his hand, his eyes full of undisguised mockery.
"It's no different from a loach rolling in a mud puddle."
Yamada yanked his wrist downward, slamming Gyokko's massive body against the ground.
At the same time, the Kusanagi Sword gripped in his right hand finally left its sheath.
Clang.
The black blade carved a cold arc in the night.
Slice!
Gyokko's scales, which were claimed to be harder than diamond, appeared extremely fragile before the Kusanagi Sword.
The blade sliced through his neck muscles without resistance, severing his hard cervical spine.
An ugly head, covered in misaligned facial features, rolled onto the ground.
Decapitated with one strike.
Tanjiro and Zenitsu, who had just arrived at the scene in the distance, saw this visually impactful scene.
The two tacitly stopped, swallowed their saliva, and sensibly did not step forward to disturb them.
"What... what kind of joke is this!"
Gyokko's head, which had fallen to the ground, did not die immediately. He widened the eyes on his forehead, spraying foul-smelling blood from his mouth, and roared hysterically.
"I am an Upper Rank! How could my scales be cut by an ordinary sword! You lowly..."
Before Gyokko's cursing was finished, a black leather boot had already stepped heavily on his face, crushing his mouth and chin into the dirt.
"Noisy."
Yamada looked down at the head beneath his feet.
He didn't even have the interest to use Amaterasu to burn Gyokko into ashes, because the moment his neck was severed by the Kusanagi Sword, the life force within Gyokko had already been severed.
Sure enough, as Yamada moved his foot away, Gyokko's unwilling head and the headless corpse not far away began to disintegrate rapidly as if weathering away.
"No... don't... my art is not yet complete... Muzan-sama..."
Amidst the intermittent wailing, Gyokko turned into a pile of ashes.
As the wind blew, scattering them into the night sky, it announced the complete failure of this invasion.
[Ding! Detected that the host killed Upper Rank five 'Gyokko'!]
[Saved the Swordsmith Village from destruction, successfully intercepted the Hashira-level battle result!]
[Congratulations to the host for obtaining Dimension Points: 10,000!]
The system prompt sounded in his mind.
Adding the 12,000 points from killing Hantengu earlier, this trip to the Swordsmith Village tonight brought in a total of 22,000 points.
Although it didn't compare to the amount given for changing Tengen's fate during the Yoshiwara incident, it was still a decent windfall.
Yamada shook the Kusanagi Sword and returned it to its black scabbard.
"Yamada-san! You were so cool!"
A pink figure cheered and rushed over.
Mitsuri put away her soft sword and circled Yamada twice, her face full of admiration.
If it weren't for the constraints of gender differences, she probably would have already hugged him in excitement.
"That grab just now, and that sword strike! It was just like cutting tofu! Even though that demon was so tough, he was completely vulnerable in front of you!" Mitsuri held her hands to her chest, the stars in her eyes almost overflowing.
"It's so fortunate that Shinobu-chan could find a partner as reliable as you!"
Yamada rubbed his temples, feeling somewhat helpless about this Hashira who was radiating love-brain energy at any time and place.
"Just some common sense for killing demons. No matter how hard the scales are, as long as you destroy the structure of their exertion, they are nothing more than dead flesh."
Just then, Muichiro walked over silently. He put away his nichirin blade, his gaze lingering on the pile of ashes on the ground for a moment, then he looked up, and for the first time, clear emotions were reflected in those originally hollow eyes.
It was a quest for absolute power.
"Your movements had no extra breathing, and no extra killing intent."
Muichiro looked at Yamada, his tone still flat, but it carried a hint of seeking advice, "How did you manage to accurately judge his landing point at that speed?"
He had been in the middle of the situation, so he had seen it more clearly than Mitsuri.
Yamada hadn't used a speed faster than Gyokko to pursue him, but instead had stopped his hand there in advance, waiting for Gyokko to run into it himself. This required terrifying insight and absolute control over the battle situation.
"Want to learn?" Yamada glanced at the talented young man.
Muichiro nodded.
"You can't learn it." Yamada bluntly cut off his train of thought.
Just kidding, the Sharingan's dynamic vision was a cheat brought by bloodline. Not to mention Muichiro, even if Yoriichi were resurrected, he couldn't replicate this cheat-like ability.
Watching Muichiro's slightly stunned expression, Yamada casually patted his shoulder. "Instead of pondering how to see through the enemy's movements, you'd better manage your own emotions first. When swinging the blade, having a heart like a blank sheet of paper might hide your killing intent, but it also loses the upper limit of explosive power."
Yamada turned and walked toward Tanjiro and the others who had arrived. "When you remember your original intention for holding the blade, that is when you, this so-called Mist Hashira, will be truly qualified."
Muichiro froze in place.
The original intention for holding the blade?
He lowered his head, looking at the calluses on his palms. Something deep in his memory seemed to be touched by these words, and a layer of vague fog was faintly showing signs of dissipating in his mind.