Thinking of this,
Heimdall stepped forward.
A massive sense of pressure washed over her.
Facing Heimdall's gaze, Onigawara Rin felt the other person instantly become incredibly tall.
As if a mountain was about to collapse, the shadow it cast completely enveloped her.
Fear.
This is the most instinctive reaction of a living creature when facing an incomprehensible and powerful existence.
But in the end, creatures often use anger to mask fear.
Just like a cat driven into a corner, it will puff up its fur and hiss to put on a show of strength.
"Damn it!"
Onigawara Rin let out a low shout to dispel the trembling in her heart.
*Clang—*
The long blade left its scabbard.
There were no fancy probes.
Facing an opponent who could make her heart skip a beat, her first move was a full-power killing strike.
Such decisiveness; her combat awareness isn't bad.
Heimdall thought to himself.
Onigawara Rin used the Kashima Shinden Jikishinkage-ryu.
Secret Technique: Dragon Tail Return!
It was primarily based on wide-range slashes.
The blade drew an arc in the air.
Fast, accurate, and ruthless.
Enough to cut through steel.
However,
in Heimdall's Divine Eyes, which saw through the essence of all techniques,
the trajectory of this strike, the point of exertion, and even the subsequent variations were all incredibly clear.
"The heart is still too chaotic."
Heimdall gave a simple evaluation.
Then,
he lightly hooked his finger.
*Whoosh—*
A sharp sound of breaking air suddenly rang out.
Standing beside Onigawara Rin, the originally trembling Mozunono only felt her hand lighten.
The white telescopic baton she was tightly clutching actually seemed to have a life of its own, suddenly flying out of her hand.
"Eh?!"
Mozunono let out a cry of surprise.
Before she could even react,
that baton had already crossed several meters and landed steadily in Heimdall's hand.
Immediately after,
*Clang!*
A crisp sound of metal clashing echoed through the corridor.
That baton, which wasn't particularly sturdy, struck with extreme precision against the side of Onigawara Rin's long blade.
Specifically, at the weakest point of the blade's power.
The so-called 'using four ounces to move a thousand pounds.'
A massive counterforce instantly traveled through the hilt and throughout Onigawara Rin's entire arm.
The web of her thumb went numb.
The long sword in her hand almost flew out of her grip.
What should have been a killing blow was neutralized just like that, effortlessly.
The blade deviated from its intended path, grazing the edge of Heimdall's clothes before hacking heavily into the nearby wall, kicking up a spray of stone chips.
And then.
"Snap!"
The tip of the baton in Heimdall's hand stopped precisely on top of Onigawara Rin's mask.
It was less than a centimeter away from that hannya mask.
But this was just a light tapping motion.
Onigawara Rin, however, seemed as if she had been hit by a freezing spell, instantly stiffening in place.
She stared blankly at the tip of the baton right before her eyes.
Cold sweat instantly soaked her back.
Because she knew all too well.
If he had put any force into that strike...
Her head would have burst open like a ripe watermelon.
Heimdall looked at the stiffened Onigawara Rin and spoke slowly:
"Your sword is bound by your heart."
"Or rather, it is bound by this mask of yours."
The pupils beneath Onigawara Rin's mask contracted slightly.
"The essence of swordsmanship is purity."
"But when you swing your sword, you are filled with self-loathing and a fear of being watched."
"Too many stray thoughts."
Tuk.
Tuk.
As Heimdall spoke, he used the baton in his hand to lightly tap on that hideous hannya mask, making a "tuk-tuk" sound.
"What do you know..."
Onigawara Rin's voice trembled slightly, yet she was still stubbornly holding on to her last bit of defiance.
"This is for..."
"To cover up your weakness?"
Heimdall interrupted her mercilessly.
Just like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
Thinking that if it can't see the predator, the danger no longer exists.
Little do they know.
This self-deceiving sense of security is precisely the poison that kills growth.
Under the protection of darkness, the soul shrivels, and courage erodes.
Until finally.
The mask is no longer camouflage; it becomes a cage that imprisons the soul, eventually taking over and becoming a real part of that person.
"Take it off."
"As long as you still admit to being a swordsman."
"Face the thing you fear most in your heart."
As soon as these words were spoken, Onigawara Rin's hand holding the sword began to tremble violently.
Take it off?
In front of this man, and even in front of Kirukiru Amou?
Let him see this cursed face of hers?
This face that was loathed by her mother and regarded as ominous?
"No..."
She instinctively wanted to retreat.
That fear even outweighed her fear of death.
However.
Heimdall did not give her a chance to shrink back.
"Too slow."
With a soft sigh.
Heimdall applied a slight amount of force with the baton in his hand.
"Crack—"
A crisp cracking sound rang out.
That hard hannya mask, which had accompanied Onigawara Rin for years, was instantly covered in spiderweb-like cracks.
Immediately after.
With a clatter.
The mask completely shattered.
Countless white fragments danced in the air like withered petals.
Beneath the mask.
That face, which had been hidden behind the hideous demon mask, was finally exposed to the air.
There was nothing ominous.
Much less anything ugly.
It was a delicate and refined face.
Furthermore, the fair skin beneath the mask had a sickly paleness due to years of being hidden from the sun.
At this moment.
Those eyes that were originally behind the mask were filled with panic and a hint of shame, as if she had been thrown naked into a crowd.
There were even tears welling in the corners of her eyes from the sudden shame of the mask breaking.
"Wha..."
Onigawara Rin let out a short cry of alarm and instinctively went to draw her sword again.
Since the side of her she least wanted to be seen had been exposed, then—
Kill him!
Kill everyone who saw this!
Even though her reason was frantically sounding alarms, and even though her body was shivering in fear, the emotion called "shame and resentment"...
Had completely overwhelmed everything else.
However.
Heimdall reached out directly, grabbed her hands, and forced her to lift her head and look him in the eye.
No matter how much force Onigawara Rin used, he remained motionless.
"The so-called Way of the Sword begins with etiquette and ends with the heart."
"Right now, your sword-heart is full of noise."
"Shame, anger, fear... these emotions are like dust on a mirror, preventing you from seeing yourself clearly, and from seeing the sword in your hand clearly."
"Such a sword-heart is impure."
"However."
"I didn't help you take off the mask to humiliate you, or to judge your past."
"I just wanted you to understand a principle."
"Humans, as creatures, are accustomed to disguising themselves."
"They put on all kinds of masks to protect themselves."
"Sometimes it's to avoid harm, sometimes to fit into a group, and sometimes to gain approval."
"There is nothing inherently wrong with this."
"After all, in this world full of thorns, baring one's true heart often means proactively handing the knife that will hurt you into someone else's hands."
"But."
"If you wear a mask forced upon you by others for too long, humans will even forget what the face beneath the mask originally looked like."
"Therefore, only by facing your true heart can you reach the end."
"So think about it carefully."
"When you first swung a sword, was it to cut down an enemy, or to cut down that once-cowardly self?"
"If you've thought it through and no longer want to be a pathetic creature bound by the past, but a swordsman who hungers for power."
"Then come find me."
"I can take you to other worlds."
"In that world, there is a vastness beyond your imagination, and opportunities to test that dusty sword-heart of yours."
Having said that.
Heimdall loosened his grip.
Without any support, Onigawara Rin slumped like a boneless mollusk, falling onto the floor covered in mask fragments.
She panted heavily, her delicate face—now without the mask's cover—a mix of shame, anger, and bewilderment.
Afterward.
Heimdall didn't spare her another glance.
He simply turned his hand over, palm up, and lightly tapped the void with his slender fingertip.
Buzz—
The white hannya mask that had shattered into countless pieces on the ground seemed to have its rewind button pressed.
Countless white fragments danced and reassembled under the guidance of divine power.
In just the blink of an eye.
That perfectly intact, hideous hannya mask hovered once more above Heimdall's palm.