You Will Ultimately Repay Your Debts

Kokushibo withdrew rapidly the instant Yuko lost her strength, the Nichirin Blade still hanging from his neck.

His eyes widened, veins bulging on his cheeks and neck as he forcefully pulled the Nichirin Blade from his throat.

With two-thirds of his neck severed, his head was barely attached.

Kokushibo clutched his head with one hand, gasping for air. He had been so close; another two seconds and he would have met his end.

He had been caught completely off guard by the sudden sword form.

The combination of Snow Breathing and Sun Breathing—both the initial movements and the lung mechanics—were almost identical in their preparation.

Breathing techniques certainly borrowed from and improved upon each other, but no one had ever managed to blend various techniques together.

One form would be of a certain breathing style, and the next would abruptly switch to another.

Switching breathing styles was incredibly demanding. The Demon Slayer Corps had swordsmen who mastered several breathing styles, but to switch between them freely in combat, even Kokushibo himself couldn't do it.

This wasn't a matter of skill, but of a unique constitution.

Within the entire Demon Slayer Corps, only Yuko possessed this talent.

Yuko could barely use even the most special Sun Breathing, and the doors to all other breathing styles were wide open for her.

Mastering all breathing styles, including Sun Moon Breathing, in three years—this talent was something Kokushibo had subconsciously overlooked.

In his eyes, only the Sun Breathing used by Yoriichi was worth his attention. Yet, Yuko had repeatedly shattered his perceptions.

If Yoriichi had been striding far ahead from the very beginning, then Yuko was like someone who obediently followed behind you when you weren't paying attention, only for you to realize she had somehow moved ahead when you suddenly decided to focus on her.

The burning sensation from the Scarlet Blade made his neck barely able to regenerate, but fortunately, that burning sensation was gradually fading.

Kokushibo furiously severed Yuko's Nichirin Blade.

An ownerless Nichirin Blade was, in the end, just a piece of scrap metal.

The flesh on Kokushibo's neck slowly wriggled and healed. He gripped his own Demon Blade, which was also slowly recovering and extending, and walked slowly towards Yuko.

"Cough... cough... gag..."

Yuko collapsed to the ground in a sorry state, spitting out murky, clotted blood. Her vision blurred, her ears buzzed, and her mind was almost blank.

I can't... My body's already at its limit.

A blurry pair of feet appeared before her eyes.

So he didn't cut it off after all...

The thought had barely formed in Yuko's mind before the owner of those feet bent down, grabbed her by the neck, and lifted her entire body.

Yuko instinctively reached out with both hands to grasp Kokushibo's arm, as if trying to make her breathing a little easier.

She could no longer see the face of the person before her, only struggling unconsciously.

"Cough..." Blood dripped from her lips onto Kokushibo's fingers along her constricted throat.

Her weakened hands barely rested on his arm. Seeing Yuko, so frail and covered in blood, Kokushibo's anger did not subside.

He tightened his grip slightly, and Yuko became like a dying goldfish in water, with bubbles of blood constantly spilling from the corners of her mouth.

In a daze, a gentle voice seemed to whisper in his ear.

'Older Brother doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. I've always been proud of you.'

Kokushibo's fingers subconsciously loosened considerably...

"Let go of Miss Yuko!"

A sharp shout suddenly rang out from the side. Kokushibo turned his head to see the Demon Slayer Corps swordsman who had fled earlier, now charging at him with his Nichirin Blade raised in anger.

Kokushibo, who had mastered the Clear World, instantly saw through Namiko's outward display of strength, realizing she was inwardly weak. Her method of masking her fear with a loud shout was not working.

After sending off the Kasugai Crow messenger, Namiko, thinking of Miss Yuko still facing a demon, forcefully suppressed her inner fear and returned.

Maybe Miss Yuko has already defeated the demon.

She prayed.

But as she stepped through the gate, she only saw the scene of Miss Yuko about to be devoured by the demon.

Facing this terrifying demon, who was nearly 1.9 meters tall, every cell in Namiko's body screamed an alarm, urging her on.

Run! Run! That's not an enemy you can handle. Miss Yuko won't blame you even if you run away.

But she couldn't. It was her mission, yet Miss Yuko was bearing the consequences. What kind of situation was this?

Yuko, in her dazed state, also heard the sharp shout and struggled to turn her head.

The blurry figure charged forward with a sword. She opened her mouth, but only a sound as faint as a mosquito's buzz escaped.

"Run..."

Yuko had never felt so miserable. Her entire body felt as heavy as lead, as if nothing belonged to her. Her consciousness was also fading.

Kokushibo stood calmly in place. As the distance closed, a sliver of hope rose within Namiko.

This distance... I can hit him!

"Water Breathing..."

The line of sight in front of her suddenly tilted. Namiko stared blankly ahead, her perspective shifting to be parallel with the ground.

Yuko's eyes widened slightly, and the strength in her arms increased a bit as she tried to break free.

But she was ultimately out of strength.

Kokushibo held Yuko with one hand, and with the other, he calmly swung his Demon Blade. A small branch extending from the blade caught the back of Namiko's collar, dragging her towards the house behind him.

"Let... let go of me!"

Namiko's terrified voice reached Yuko's ears. While it brought Yuko a sense of relief, it also gave rise to a bad premonition.

Inside the house, Kokushibo casually tossed Namiko aside. She rolled a few times on the ground before struggling to escape.

Yuko's eyes shifted slightly, and she saw Namiko's condition clearly.

Blood was seeping from both Namiko's hands and feet. It looked like... her tendons had been severed. She was now crawling desperately on her elbows and knees, her face filled with terror.

Yuko spoke with difficulty, "What... what do you want to do?"

Kokushibo didn't respond. He knew perfectly well that talking with Yuko was just asking for trouble. She always managed to say things that broke his composure without batting an eye.

Kokushibo tightened his grip on her neck, his nails tearing through flesh like sharp knives.

"Ngh~"

Yuko's brow furrowed. She could clearly feel her life force rapidly draining away.

It didn't matter if she died.

But what about Namiko...

Kokushibo noticed her glancing at Namiko out of the corner of her eye. "You still have the presence of mind to worry about others at a time like this?"

He hesitated. He was contemplating whether or not to kill Yuko.

Hearing Kokushibo's words, Yuko turned her gaze back. Her eyes, fixed on Kokushibo, held no hatred, only pity for him.

Yuko spoke with difficulty, "Koku... Kokushibo... cough cough... One day, you will pay for the sins you've committed..."

Her voice faltered. Her pupils suddenly shrank to the size of pinpricks, her mouth agape, unable to make a sound.

Her body.

Something... had entered.