After dealing with the Adjuchas, Yan Si did not leave right away.
He stood on the rooftop. Hyorinmaru was already sheathed, but his hand still rested on its hilt, and his body remained subtly tense.
The night breeze blew past, gently stirring the hem of his black Shinigami uniform. Its edges gleamed coldly in the moonlight.
Kūgo Ginjō first glanced at the pile of shattered ice dissolving in the middle of the street, then looked at Yan Si's back.
He sensed something was wrong.
A murderous tension hung in the air.
Was there another ambush?
Ginjo immediately went on alert, his eyes sweeping rapidly over their surroundings.
He checked the rooftops, the street, the alleys, the windows, and the shadows, one after another, but found nothing unusual.
That couldn't be right.
He had lived through the chaos of the Warring States period for so long and seen far too many battlefields.
Often, the greatest danger was not the clash itself, but letting down one's guard after victory.
How many people had won a battle, only to be killed by an arrow from the shadows while clearing the battlefield?
There had to be something he'd missed.
Either the person lying in wait was so powerful that Ginjo could not sense their presence at all...
Or their concealment techniques were so sophisticated that they had blended into their surroundings completely.
Fine beads of cold sweat formed on Ginjo's forehead.
He approached Yan Si step by step, treading so lightly that his feet made almost no sound against the roof tiles.
The closer he got, the stronger that murderous tension became. It felt as though invisible blades were pressed against his skin, making his hair stand on end.
By the time he reached Yan Si's back, his entire body was rigid.
He swallowed