The instant the root burst through the ground, it shot straight at Shinobu Kocho's back, bristling with poisonous thorns.
She was holding a three-tiered food box, her bun still a little loose, and looking up toward the commotion on the battlefield.
She had no time to draw her sword.
The root was only half a meter from her back.
Tanjiro's pupils abruptly contracted. He opened his mouth to shout, but the sound caught in his throat.
Mitsuri's flexible sword slipped from her hand, and her whole body froze.
Muichiro's grip tightened sharply around his sword. His body instinctively tried to rush over, but at that distance, he would never make it.
Zohakuten grinned, the veins at his temples throbbing fiercely.
He had gambled right.
No matter how strong this man was, he could not protect prey fifty meters away.
The root's thorns had already torn through Shinobu Kocho's uniform, their tips pressing against the skin of her back.
In the next instant, they would pierce her heart.
Yaha vanished.
It was not teleportation. He had simply moved faster than anyone's eyes could track.
He appeared in front of Shinobu Kocho, reached out with his right hand, and clamped all five fingers around the root.
The root's charge was forcibly stopped in his palm.
That force, powerful enough to pierce steel, could not budge even one of his fingers.
Shinobu Kocho froze.
She looked down at the root that had erupted from underground, its thorns less than two inches from the back of her heart.
Then she looked at Yaha.
He stood with his back to her, the hem of his black yukata still streaming behind him in the rush of air from his movement.
Veins bulged on the hand gripping the root, and blood seeped from his palm.
It was