Rumble—!
A roar like that of an ancient behemoth detonated above Tokyo Colony No. 1, and the entire heavens seemed torn cleanly in half by the sheer force of the collision!
There was no probing, nor any empty words exchanged.
The very instant their gazes locked, Musashi Miyamoto—representing the pinnacle of swordsmanship four hundred years ago—struck first with a thunderous, lethal blow!
"Niten Ichi-ryu: Wind God Slash!"
Musashi Miyamoto's tower-like frame blurred into an afterimage undetectable to the naked eye as turbulent cursed energy erupted from his body like an exploding volcano.
Gripping two famed blades—one long, one short—he slashed downward at Yoru in a vicious cross at an angle that defied the limits of human biomechanics!
Clang—!
The piercing shriek of clashing blades instantly shook the sky.
A terrifying cross-shaped sword wave spanning over a hundred meters, wrapped in a tempest that tore at everything in its path, roared toward Yoru with unstoppable momentum.
Wherever this sword aura passed, the dense asphalt road peeled away like fragile tofu, and the flying debris and rebar instantly disintegrated under the sheer pressure.
Even three dilapidated commercial buildings dozens of stories high in its trajectory groaned under the unbearable strain.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Accompanied by three chilling cracks, those three soaring skyscrapers were cleanly cleaved in half by the cross slash!
Their upper halves tumbled under gravity's pull and slammed into the rubble, raising a towering cloud of dust. The apocalyptic sight made Hiromi Higuruma and Yuji Itadori gasp in the distance.
"Are you kidding me...?"
Hiromi Higuruma stared intently at the sword wave that seemed capable of cleaving the barrier itself, his palm gripping his gavel slick with cold sweat.
"A casual slash severed three skyscrapers in an instant?"
"Even the most elite modern Special Grade sorcerers couldn't possibly pull off this kind of destructive power so easily!"
"Senior Yoru! Watch out!"
Itadori yelled in desperation, cursed energy surging wildly through his body as he nearly rushed in to help intercept the strike.
Yet Yoru, standing at the very center of the tempest, didn't retreat even half a step.
He stood calmly in place, the approaching cross-slash reflected in his crimson eyes as it threatened to grind him to dust, and a thrill curved the corners of his mouth.
"Not bad at all."
"Power, speed, angle—all virtually flawless."
"However..."
Yoru slowly raised the crimson Shiranui in his hand, his heart beginning to pound at a bizarre rhythm.
A massive breath of oxygen surged into his lungs, igniting every single cell in his body like pure fuel!
"Before absolute heat, everything is futile!"
"Total Concentration: Sun Breathing, Sixth Form!"
"Burning Bones, Summer Sun!"
Boom—!
With Yoru's low shout, Shiranui's blade erupted into blinding crimson flames reminiscent of the sun's surface!
Grasping the hilt with both hands, he twisted from the waist, completing a flawless semicircular spinning slash.
A terrifying wall of swirling flame rose in front of Yoru in an instant!
This was no ordinary flame; it carried the extreme heat of Yoriichi Tsugikuni, capable of incinerating all evil and utterly severing even a Special Grade Cursed Spirit's regeneration!
When Musashi Miyamoto's skyscraper-severing cross slash crashed violently into Yoru's vortex of flames, there was no evenly matched stalemate.
Sizzle—!
A grating sound of dissolution rang through the air.
The moment the cross-slash—condensed from wild cursed energy and supreme sword intent—touched Burning Bones, Summer Sun, it began melting at a frantic, visible pace like snow meeting magma!
"What?!"
At this sight, the arrogant Musashi Miyamoto's pupils snapped into pinpricks.
In his four hundred years of life, he had endured countless life-and-death clashes and felled countless formidable foes.
Yet he had never seen anyone vaporize his sword aura using pure fire that didn't even contain cursed energy!
'What on earth is that flame on his blade?!'
Turbulent shock churned in Musashi Miyamoto's heart, but his instincts as a Sword Saint drove him to make the right call instantly.
He knew casual probes were utterly useless against this bizarre youth.
To win, he had to bring out a true killing move!
"Good brat! I take back what I said earlier—you're worthy of my full strength!"
Musashi Miyamoto barked with wild laughter, his killing intent gushing forth like a physical force.
Snapping both long and short blades back toward his hip, he dropped into a slight crouch, assuming a bizarre iai stance.
Sword pressure ten times more terrifying than before converged violently around him, cracking the ground beneath his feet under the strain.
"Dying by this technique is an honor you can boast about!"
"Niten Ichi-ryu: Ultimate Secret!"
"Swallow Reversal!"
Whoosh—!
Musashi Miyamoto vanished from his spot so quickly he didn't even leave an afterimage.
When he reappeared, he was already right before Yoru, less than half a meter from his throat!
Immediately after, three blazing arcs of blade light so fast they seemed to cut time itself flashed simultaneously before Yoru's eyes!
These three slashes struck simultaneously from above, left, and right—three completely distinct blind spots—cleaving toward Yoru's vitals along paths that sealed off every escape route.
This was Musashi Miyamoto's ultimate secret technique: Swallow Reversal!
Coordinating his twin blades to the absolute extreme, he unleashed three unavoidable killing slashes in the exact same instant; even a swallow in flight could never slip past this fatal snare!
"It's over!"
Watching the three arcs of light that seemed capable of severing karma, Hiromi Higuruma's heart seized up.
As a master of domain rules, he understood the terror of this technique better than anyone.
Without deploying a domain to defend, a human body could never block three fatal strikes converging from three directions at once!
Yet facing this inescapable death sentence, Yoru's expression didn't betray a sliver of panic.
"A pseudo-spatial technique striking thrice at once? Exquisite, indeed."
"Pity, though..."
Within Yoru's deep crimson eyes, the patterns of the Transparent World flared with dazzling radiance!
In his perception, the entire world seemed to hit slow motion.
Musashi Miyamoto's blinding speed, the contraction of his muscles, the flow of his blood, and even the trajectories of the three slashes were laid completely bare under the Transparent World!
"Before these eyes, every movement you make is simply too slow."
Yoru drew a deep breath, burning the oxygen in his lungs to the limit.
He didn't try to dodge the three paths sealing his retreat; instead, he made a move no one could have anticipated.
He lunged straight into the incoming slashes and swung Shiranui!
"Sun Breathing, Thirteenth Form!"
Dance, Clear Blue Sky, Burning Sun, Fake Rainbow, Fire Wheel, Burning Bones, Summer Sun, Sunflower Thrust, Solar Heat Haze, Setting Sun Transformation, Beneficent Radiance, Dragon Sun Halo Head Dance, Flame Dance!
Twelve distinct forms chained into a seamless, ceaseless loop in Yoru's hands!
The crimson flames painted an ethereal scene in midair, like an unsetting sun that shielded Yoru perfectly at its center.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Three crisp rings of metal striking metal sounded nearly simultaneously.
Musashi Miyamoto's allegedly unavoidable Swallow Reversal triple strike was forcefully parried by Yoru's flowing chain of slashes!
"Impossible!"
Unprecedented shock and disbelief flooded Musashi Miyamoto's eyes.
His proud, surefire secret technique had been broken head-on?!
Moreover, the swordsmanship the boy wielded carried a seamless, peerless perfection that even a Sword Saint like him could barely fathom!
"It's over, Musashi Miyamoto."
Yoru's chilly voice rang quietly in Musashi Miyamoto's ear, sounding like a tolling death knell from the depths of the underworld.
The instant he parried Swallow Reversal, Yoru didn't stop his Thirteenth Form loop; riding the recoil of the clash, he drew a lethally perfect arc with even greater speed and power.
Schwick—!
The dull sound of a blade biting through flesh echoed across the open ruins.
Time seemed to freeze entirely.
The swirling crimson flames slowly subsided.
Holding the finish of his slash, Yoru stood silently with his back to Musashi Miyamoto, not a single drop of blood staining Shiranui.
And behind him...
Musashi Miyamoto stood frozen, eyes wide as saucers, staring fixedly forward.
Thud.
A soft sound broke the silence.
A thick arm clutching a short blade dropped limply into the dust-covered ruins amidst a spray of scalding blood.
This legendary swordsman who had lived for four hundred years and was revered as a god by ancient sorcerers had lost his right arm to Yoru's single strike in the very sword duel he prided himself on!
Excruciating pain surged through Musashi Miyamoto's nerves like a tidal wave.
Stumbling back two steps, he clutched his spurting stump with his remaining left hand, his gaze on Yoru filled with nothing but pure shock.
Would this proud ancient Sword Saint admit defeat just like that?
[ Author's Note : If you're loving the story, a power_stone, review or comment means the world!
Want 40+ chapters ahead right now? patreon.com/Royal_ink ]