The sharp Nichirin Blade slashed fiercely toward Wakuraba neck, forcing the latter to hastily raise his leaf-shaped short sword in defense.
Clang!!
Shinichi dual-colored Nichirin Blade clashed violently with Wakuraba leaf-shaped short sword, sending sparks flying and producing a grating metallic screech that set teeth on edge.
The two stood locked in combat, their faces so close that Shinichi could clearly count the number of eyebrows on Wakuraba face.
"You brat! Not bad at all!" Wakuraba snarled through gritted teeth.
Shinichi responded with equal disdain.
"Is Lower Moon Four always this weak? First it was Rokuro, and now you! You're still far from matching me!"
"Arrogant fool!" Wakuraba roared.
With a swift motion, he withdrew his leaf-shaped short sword, narrowly avoiding Shinichi horizontal slash.
Simultaneously, his free left hand suddenly produced another short blade, thrusting straight toward Shinichi chest.
Shinichi expression remained unchanged.
His left hand, which had been gripping the hilt of his Nichirin Blade, suddenly released its hold switching to a single-handed grip with his right.
His left hand moved like lightning, drawing the short Nichirin Blade "Mori no Ryuu" from his waist.
Gripping it in a reverse hold, he deflected Wakuraba incoming strike with a swift downward slash.
Seizing the opportunity, Shinichi right hand, now wielding the dual-colored Nichirin Blade alone, delivered a powerful downward cut.
Wakuraba eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't anticipated Shinichi reflexes to be so sharp.
With no other choice, he leaped backward in a flip, narrowly evading Shinichi attack and putting distance between them.
Shinichi twirled his left blade in a graceful flourish, switching from a reverse grip to a standard hold.
With the long blade in his right hand and the short one in his left, he crossed them before him, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on Wakuraba.
"Don't think you're the only one who can wield dual blades. Let's see who's better" Shinichi taunted with a smirk.
Crack!
A vein bulged on Wakuraba forehead, and the eye marked with "Lower Four" became bloodshot.
"YOU INSOLENT BRATTTT!" he roared.
In the next instant, Wakuraba charged at Shinichi once more, dual blades at the ready.
Shinichi crouched slightly, tightening his grip on both swords.
Closing his eyes, he attuned himself to the rhythm of nature's breath.
A mystical sensation surged through his body.
Swish!
When Shinichi reopened his eyes, a sharp glint flashed in his heterochromatic gaze.
Wakuraba charging toward him, felt an inexplicable chill—a fleeting moment where he sensed the dread of prey cornered by a predator.
Hiss~ A scorching breath escaped Shinichi lips.
"Forest Breathing, Thirteenth Form: Niten Ichi-ryū — Wolf Spirit!"
BOOM!!
Shinichi lunged forward with explosive force, his mismatched Nichirin Blades radiating a brilliant emerald glow.
For a fleeting moment, the blades took the form of a roaring green wolf, charging straight at Byakuya!
The Thirteenth Form, much like the Twelfth before it, was a technique Shinichi had devised himself, inspired by the dual-blade swordsmanship he had studied in his past life.
As for the "Wolf Spirit," it wasn't hard to guess—indeed, Shinichi had drawn from Maru-ni demonized state, mimicking the ferocious attacks of his transformed ally.
Channeling that savagery through his Nichirin Blades, he unleashed this lightning-fast assault.
"What?!" Wakuraba face twisted in shock as he faced the "Wolf Spirit."
Shinichi dual blades struck in rapid succession, their relentless, razor-sharp slashes mirroring the frenzied onslaught of a ravenous wolf.
Caught off guard, Wakuraba barely managed to block the attack from the Nichirin short sword, only for Shinichi dual-colored Nichirin long blade to pierce through one of his arms at an impossible angle the next second.
A faint wolf-like howl seemed to echo as—splat!!—blood sprayed, and Wakuraba arm was severed clean off.
Seeing his arm cut off, Wakuraba immediately distanced himself from Shinichi again.
Shinichi didn't pursue.
Instead, he flicked his Nichirin Blade sharply, shaking off the foul demon blood, his gaze sharp as he glared at Wakuraba.
"Consider this a down payment. Soon, you'll pay the full price!"
'This brat! How is he so strong? Is he really not a Hashira? Damn it, I barely got the Lower Moon Four position without shedding a drop of blood—I don't want to end up like that unlucky Rokuro!'
'Looks like I can't hold back anymore. Fuck it, whether there are any Hashira around—I'll kill this brat and get out of here! With my speed, who can stop me?' Wakuraba schemed silently.
The severed arm flesh squirmed as it regenerated, and a hint of madness flickered in Wakuraba eyes—he was going all out!
Shinichi sheathed his short sword and gripped the hilt of his long blade with both hands.
"If this is all you've got, you might as well march straight to hell!"
"Forest Breathing, First Form: Iron Birch Slash!" A verdant slash transformed into an unbreakable iron birch, cleaving straight toward Wakuraba.
"Brat! Don't get cocky! I was just playing with you earlier! Did you really think I'd only fight you with blades? Blood Demon Art: Withered Blood Poison!!" Wakuraba roared, slamming his remaining hand onto the ground.
An invisible shockwave surged, stirring up countless withered leaves within the ruined temple.
The dead leaves swirled around Wakuraba like a macabre dance.
With a casual flick of his fingers, countless leaves spun toward Shinichi like blades.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
A cacophony of metallic clashes rang out.
Shinichi eyes narrowed—the seemingly fragile leaves were as hard and sharp as steel!
Swish!
Though the Iron Birch Slash was powerful, the sheer number of leaves overwhelmed him.
A single leaf grazed Shinichi cheek, instantly slicing open a thin cut.
Forced to abandon his attack on Wakuraba, Shinichi swung his blade wildly, trying to disperse the storm of leaves.
But despite their hardness, the leaves were as light as real foliage, dancing unpredictably with the wind.
By the time Shinichi cleared them, his body was already littered with small, bleeding cuts.
Wakuraba watched him with a mocking grin.
Shinichi frowned.
Why hadn't he attacked while he was distracted?
But before he could figure it out, as he tried to raise his hand, a strange sluggishness weighed down his movements.
"Sh-Shinichi! Those leaves—they're poisoned!!" The weakened Demon Slayers nearby desperately tried to warn him, but it was too late.
Wakuraba pressed a clawed finger to his lips, licking his orange talons with a chilling smirk.
"How do you like my Blood Demon Art: Withered Blood Poison?"
Shinichi grunted as sudden weakness flooded his body.
"Forest Breathing, Eighth Form: Whispering Forest Eyes!"
His left eye glowed with a green light and under the eerie gaze, Shinichi saw a surge of pitch-black death energy rampaging wildly within his body, voraciously devouring his vast reserves of vitality.
The toxin from Wakuraba not only slowed movements but also corroded their organs and blood vessels, hastening their decay—just like withered leaves.
Guh!
Shinichi uncontrollably spat out a mouthful of blood, his body staggering slightly.
Seeing this, Wakuraba couldn't help but laugh triumphantly.
"Brat! I warned you not to be so arrogant. Next life, remember this lesson!"
With that, Wakuraba stomped the ground fiercely, his body shooting toward Shinichi like a cannonball.
"Blood Demon Art: Withering Leaf Slash!"
Countless dried leaves instantly gathered in Wakuraba hands, forming two massive shuriken larger than his own body, which he then hurled mercilessly at Shinichi!
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