He held thunder in his palm.
Yaha caught the bowl-thick pillar of lightning in his five fingers. Frenzied currents darted between them, yet failed to singe a single hair on him. The lightning illuminated half his face, and cursed markings gleamed darkly beneath his scarlet eyes.
Sekido's hand froze in midair, still holding the Pewter Staff. His strongest Heavenly Punishment in two hundred years had been caught in one hand, as casually as someone gripping a poker.
"This thing." Yaha hefted the pillar of lightning in his palm, his voice thick with the irritation of someone woken from sleep. "You call this thunder?"
His fingers tightened.
Cursed energy exploded from his palm. The raging lightning began to disintegrate where he gripped it, like a stick of crispy noodles crushed between someone's fingers. With a crack, it shattered into a sky full of harmless sparks. Golden flecks showered down between his fingers and scattered across the grass, failing to ignite even a single leaf.
Sekido's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
"As if you're worthy." Yaha shook the remaining sparks off his hand, then swung it forward in a backhanded slap.
There was no flash of a blade, no cursed mark. Just a slap.
A tangible wave of air swept outward. Sekido's entire left side, from shoulder to waist, shattered into pulp within it and splashed against the tree trunk behind him. The Pewter Staff clanged to the ground and rolled to Yaha's feet.
The remaining half of his face still wore an expression of horror. Demon blood surged wildly toward the severed surface, but the newly sprouting flesh blackened and died with a hiss the moment it emerged.
"Sekido." Urogi's smile froze completely. He backed away, and for the first time, something other than laughter welled in his upturned eyes.
Tanjiro knelt