In a dead end halfway up the mountain,
Sanemi lay sprawled in the mud like a pancake, too lazy to even move a finger.
Not far away, Obanai's posture was slightly better, but only slightly.
He was kneeling, only managing to keep his chin from making intimate contact with the ground by sticking the knife into it.
In their current state, let alone fighting Upper Rank, even a strong wild dog could easily carry them away like a buffet.
"Hey, bandaged weirdo."
Sanemi turned his head, speaking weakly, his tone carrying a sense of resigned weariness.
If I ever see you again in my next life, I'll definitely sew that venomous mouth of yours shut first.
Obanai didn't even have the energy to roll his eyes, but he still stuck to his bottom line of being sarcastic.
"Don't worry, a single-celled organism like you, whose brain is all muscle, will definitely be reincarnated as a wild boar that only knows how to run around aimlessly in your next life."
"We're not even on the same species track."
"Damn it!"
Sanemi was so angry he wanted to laugh, but the movement aggravated the wound in his chest.
"Cough cough cough... I'm about to die, can't you say something nice for once?"
"Like 'Brother Sanemi, you're so handsome'?"
"Don't disgust me, I feel like throwing up."
Obanai pouted in disdain.
"I'd rather listen to that giant baby with drumsticks chanting scriptures than listen to you spouting nonsense."
In mid-air, the man whom Obanai called a "giant baby," Zohakuten Botian, was looking down at them with a cold gaze as if they were trash.
He slowly raised the drumstick in his hand, still muttering that nauseating victim's speech.
"A stubborn and unrepentant villain, a scoundrel who bullies the weak."
"Your souls are utterly rotten; in this abyss of despair, pay the price for your sins."
Looking at the drumsticks raised high, Sanemi knew that this was truly the end for him.
Just as the drumsticks were about to strike the taiko drum behind them, and the three wooden dragons were about to chew them up, skin and bones—the moment of truth...
Whoosh--
A sharp, piercing sound of wind cutting through the air came from the alley entrance.
Immediately afterwards.
Clang!!
A Nichirin Blade, tracing a stubborn trajectory through the air, smashed squarely into the taiko drum in front of Zohakuten!
Although not even a spark was thrown, the insult was off the charts, comparable to a nuclear bomb slapping someone in the face.
A crack finally appeared on Zohakuten Potian's perpetually icy face, revealing a hint of surprise, and the drumsticks stopped in mid-air.
Sanemi and Obanai were also dumbfounded.
The two of them turned their heads with difficulty, looking in the direction from which the knife had flown.
At the entrance of the alley, leaning against the rock wall, stood a dark figure.
That was Masachika.
His current appearance is so terrible that it's unbearable to look at.
His entire body was bruised and battered from being struck by lightning; his hair was charred, making him look exactly like a roasted sweet potato just dug out of a coal mine.
But he's still alive!!
And with his last breath, which he somehow managed to muster, he threw his sword over!!
"Run... you two... idiots..."
Seeing this scene...
Tears welled up in Sanemi's eyes and immediately streamed down his face. o(╥╥)o
"Masachika, you bastard!! You're not dead!!"
In that instant, it was as if an extremely unscientific and mysterious power exploded within Sanemi's body.
That's when humans, in order to protect their loved ones, experience a surge of adrenaline, a frenzied release that seems to break the heavens.
He completely ignored his veins, which were so shriveled they were about to stop functioning, and the groans his broken bones were making.
He suddenly sprang up from the mud puddle!
Then, under Obanai's completely bewildered gaze,
Sanemi grabbed Obanai by the collar of her Obanai.
"Holy crap!! What are you doing, Shinazugawa!?! Cough cough!!"
Obanai was already weak, and this time Sanemi lifted her into the air like a chick, her collar tightly gripping her neck, almost squeezing her eyeballs out.
Shut up!! I'm taking you to safety!!
With red eyes, Sanemi, like a mad bull, dragged the rolling-eyed Obanai, stumbling and running wildly toward Masachika.
Obanai dragged her feet on the ground, mentally cursing Sanemi's ancestors for eighteen generations:
"Are you trying to save me or send me on my way?! Let go!! I can climb myself!!"
But Sanemi only had one thought in his mind right now.
Rush forward and protect Masachika!
Protect this weird, bandaged brat!!
Even if it means using my own back to shield them from harm, I absolutely cannot let them die before me!!
"A foolish struggle."
The Zohakuten in mid-air finally snapped out of his daze, his eyes turning colder than a thousand-year-old glacier.
Without any hesitation, the drumstick in his hand slammed down!
Thump!!
The dull drumbeats were like a death knell.
Earth shook and mountains trembled!!
Three enormous wooden dragons, with exaggeratedly large sizes and a ferocious aura capable of crushing everything, burst forth from the ground.
They opened their gaping maws covered in sharp spikes, spewing out a foul stench mixed with the nauseating smell of rotting wood.
These three wooden dragons were like three high-speed trains charging side by side, carrying an overwhelming destructive force, relentlessly chasing after Sanemi.
The distance is getting closer and closer.
Ten meters! Five meters! Three meters!!
The sharp wooden spikes in the wooden dragon's mouth were almost poking at Sanemi's heels as he ran wildly.
There's no escaping it.
This is a speed gap that is absolutely insurmountable.
Sanemi tossed the nearly lifeless Obanai to Masachika's side.
Then he suddenly turned around, spread his arms wide, and stood firmly in front of the two of them like a broken wall that let in the wind from all sides.
"Come on!! You damn blockhead!! My bones are tough as nails, watch out or I'll break your teeth!!"
Sanemi closed his eyes tightly, roared, and prepared to face the pain that would tear his body to pieces.
Obanai lay on the ground, panting heavily.
He stared at Sanemi's unusually broad, though tattered, back, and his heterochromatic pupils suddenly contracted.
"That idiot..."
He cursed inwardly, but an indescribable emotion churned violently in his chest.
One second... two seconds...
The expected agony of being chewed into mincemeat did not come.
Instead, the surroundings suddenly became unusually quiet.
The feeling was like having the pause button suddenly pressed in the eye of a raging typhoon.
Immediately afterwards.
A very soft, crisp, yet incredibly clear sound of flowing water rang in Sanemi's ears.
Tick-tock--
Like a drop of clear spring water falling into a deep, ancient well.
In this dead-end alley filled with blood and mud, the sound of flowing water seemed so abrupt, yet so beautiful.
"Water Breathing - Fourth Form - Striking Tide"
A deep, cold, and completely emotionless voice suddenly boomed above Sanemi's head!
Sanemi suddenly opened his eyes.
He witnessed a shocking scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
A dazzling, aquamarine light, like an inverted Milky Way, poured down from the night sky!
This was no ordinary sword swing.
Before the three of them could even freeze in their gazes, the azure light instantly weaved into more than a dozen extremely sharp and domineeringly unreasonable blade marks in the air!
These knife marks intertwined to form a dense, impenetrable net of water.
Boom--!
Just moments ago, the three enormous wooden dragons were so arrogant, baring their fangs and claws as if ready to devour everything. But before this azure net, they were as brittle as paper!
That incredibly tough torso, those fangs covered in sharp spikes, were instantly dismembered and shredded by these dozen or so crisscrossing slashes!
There was no room for resistance.
Wood chips and fragments rained down like an absurd downpour, pelting the ground around Sanemi.
And amidst these flying debris...
A figure dressed in a different colored haori, like a weightless feather, yet with the steadiness of Mount Tai, landed lightly in front of Sanemi.
He held a Nichirin Blade in his hand, its blade pointing diagonally at the ground, with water-like ripples flowing silently across its surface.
He just stood there quietly.
There were no unnecessary movements, nor exaggerated roars.
But it was like an insurmountable mountain, blocking all of Zohakuten's terrifying pressure.
[Water Hashira] -- Giyu Tomioka
Giyu turned his head slightly, his deep blue eyes glancing out of the corner of his eye at the three wretched but still breathing guys on the ground.
His perpetually expressionless face, as if frozen in ice, still held little emotion.
But his cool, clear voice carried an absolute sense of security that made people feel at ease.
"The rest."
Giyu turned his gaze back, the blade pointing directly at Zohakuten in mid-air.
"Leave it to me."