The scattered white spots on his wrist had connected into long lines, writhing like small snakes swimming freely within his blood vessels.
The veins on his relatively fair arm bulged violently. Kiyokawa Izumi could clearly feel the poison rapidly spreading through his body.
'I can still feel my left hand, I can still exert strength... Why is my vision becoming blurry?'
His eyes suddenly felt as if pierced by needles. A sensation of imbalance surged over him like a tide, gradually submerging his limbs.
His body staggered backward, the constant motion of swinging his blade faltering. A White round worm shot up from the ground and bit fiercely into Kiyokawa Izumi's arm.
It was less a bite, and more an assimilation.
This thing was as soft as water. His skin melted, and the sudden pain snapped Kiyokawa Izumi back to awareness. He immediately swung his arm, desperately trying to shake off the White round worm attempting to invade his body.
If this thing got inside him, his fate would be the same as the other two swordsmen—not only would he lose his eyes, but he would also die a gruesome death.
This unfamiliar lower rank six had not displayed power or speed that completely overwhelmed him.
But its Blood Demon Art was truly bizarre.
Even if he were facing Kyougai, Kiyokawa Izumi wouldn't have been beaten so thoroughly.
Even if Kyougai were still lower rank six, Kiyokawa Izumi wouldn't have batted an eye in a real fight.
Because he knew what this one's Blood Demon Art was. Armed with clear information, Kiyokawa Izumi was confident he could win.
But reality is merciless.
He just had to run into Pupil Woman.
From the moment they met, he suffered setback after setback.
Testing an opponent's abilities also comes with a price.
It was as if endless darkness was covering his eyes.
Everything before him turned pitch black.
Only at this moment did Kiyokawa Izumi realize.
The opponent's ability had been related to eyes from the very beginning.
It was less a poison, and more a deprivation of sight.
How important the watered-down version of the Sharingan was to Kiyokawa Izumi went without saying.
Less than ten minutes into the fight, his most powerful trump card had been rendered useless.
It directly and forcibly blinded him, making his Sharingan useless.
This ability was too targeted against Kiyokawa Izumi—he had no special sense of smell, nor exceptional hearing.
With the Sharingan's ability nullified, how much of his true strength remained?
The usually calm Kiyokawa Izumi was genuinely starting to panic at this moment.
These eyes had accompanied him since the Final Selection until now, and were one of his most important trump cards in facing anything.
His blade swings began to grow frantic. The rain grew heavier, the wind howled, but he could see nothing. He didn't even know what the demon was doing now, or where it was.
A long-absent sense of dread and panic emerged.
He couldn't see, he couldn't see anything!
He had indeed brought poison concocted by Kochou Shinobu before leaving, but not much—just enough to briefly soak his nichirin blade.
Against a Lower Rank, this amount of toxin wasn't lethal!
Unless a massive dose was injected at once. But he wasn't Kochou Shinobu, nor did he have a special nichirin blade; he couldn't concoct poison on the spot.
No matter how much one prepares, it never seems enough. And accidents always come so suddenly.
'Should I give up just because I don't have the Sharingan?'
'That would make my resolve far too laughable.'
If eyes cannot see, then listen, then smell.
Wasn't the Dark Breathing he created the Breathing Technique most suited for night battles?
This should be his It should be the home field.! (dominion)!
The sounds of wind and rain have patterns. The large raindrops falling on a person, on a demon, on the muddy ground—the sounds they make are all different.
As long as he could still grip his nichirin blade, the battle was not over.
As long as breath remained, it was too early to speak of surrender.
Breathe!
Never forget to breathe!
The rain had become an extension of his senses. The sounds of its impact on all things formed a three-dimensional image in his mind.
'Second Form: Flash of Interspace - Multi-Recital!'
The wind stirred by his swinging blade disrupted the curtain of rain. His advancing steps crushed through puddles. The demon's figure seemed to appear in his mind—unseen, yet perceived.
He crossed the distance of less than ten meters in a turn. Pupil Woman was still recovering from the injuries Kiyokawa Izumi had inflicted earlier. Her arm was slowly regenerating. The golden pupil inscribed with the characters for 'lower six' had already shifted to the center of her forehead.
Decomposing the poison took time. Healing the wounds took time.
And at this very moment, as if carrying an indomitable Aura, Kiyokawa Izumi had already arrived before her.
Amidst the sounds of wind and rain, his blade swung silently.
When there is no path of retreat, the nichirin blade in hand is the only thing worthy of trust.
'First Form: Night Crows Shadow!'
Just then, a roaring thunderclap pierced the cloud layer.
Kiyokawa Izumi, gripping his nichirin blade with both hands, wore a slightly ferocious expression. In a silent roar, the nichirin blade was already slashing out.
The pupil on the demon's forehead contracted sharply. On its pale neck, over a dozen white eyeballs surfaced.
The sharp nichirin blade swung swiftly. There was no look of excitement on Kiyokawa Izumi's face. Realizing the feedback was wrong, he quickly distanced himself.
His targeting was absolutely correct. Even blind, he was confident this slash was aimed at the demon's neck.
Why didn't it connect?
Deprived of sight, he couldn't see—the eyeballs that had surfaced on the neck had lifted the demon's head.