Kyojuro Rengoku's strength and explosive power ranked among the very best of the nine Hashira, yet he had been subdued so effortlessly?
This was no longer a matter of technique, but an overwhelming difference in raw strength.
"Bastard! Don't underestimate me!"
The Wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa's furious roar shattered the deathly silence. He was like an enraged wild beast, his white hair standing on end and his eyes bloodshot.
Without any elaborate opening stance, he gripped his sword with both hands and became a violent green blur, carrying the savage force of a bloody storm.
"Wind Breathing, Third Form: Sunny Mist Wind Tree!"
Three sharp, violent wind blades tore through the air, bearing down on Kirishima Bupai in a triangular formation.
Before the blades reached him, their skin-slicing sting had already arrived.
Facing these violent wind blades that tore through everything, Kirishima Bupai advanced instead of retreating.
With a subtle shift of his feet, his body moved like fluff drifting in the wind, narrowly slipping between two converging wind blades.
At the same time, the Nichirin Blade at his waist finally left its sheath. Yet there was no broad, sweeping slash, only a flash of deep blue blade light.
Clang-!
His blade pressed precisely against the side of Shinazugawa's blade as the third wind blade thrust straight toward him.
The instant their blades met, Kirishima Bupai flipped his wrist at an incredible angle with blinding speed.
Hum-!
With a strange hum, Sanemi Shinazugawa felt an irresistibly powerful twisting pull coming from his opponent's sword.
The force of his ferocious thrust was diverted uncontrollably off course.
As though drawn by invisible threads, his blade plunged hard into the ground beside him.
At the same time, Kirishima Bupai's toe tapped the inner bend of Shinazugawa's supporting knee as fast as lightning.
"Argh!"
Sanemi grunted, his right knee buckling.
His furious forward charge stopped abruptly, and his balance collapsed completely. He staggered forward, finally dropping heavily to one knee in an undignified heap.
He jerked his head up, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Kirishima Bupai, shock, fury, and humiliation intertwined in his gaze.
The speed and ferocity he took such pride in had proved utterly helpless before his opponent.
From Uzui having his throat pinned by the back of a blade, to Rengoku having his attack broken with deft force, to Shinazugawa being pulled down onto one knee...
Only a dozen or so breaths had passed...
Kirishima Bupai had not even drawn his sword to deliver a single true slash.
Three Hashira, warriors who represented the Demon Slayer Corps' greatest fighting strength, had been subdued before him as easily as small children.
Deathly silence hung over the training ground. All that remained were heavy breaths, the sound of the wind, and Sanemi's defiant growls.
Kirishima Bupai slowly returned his Nichirin Blade to its sheath, his movements fluid and graceful, as though he had merely performed a leisurely sword dance.
His calm gaze swept over the other Hashira and their varied expressions-
Gyomei Himejima kept his eyes tightly shut, his tears flowing faster. Shinobu Kocho's smile remained sweet, but her gaze was as grave as ice.
Mitsuri Kanroji covered her little mouth, both wonder and worry in her eyes. Obanai Iguro's expression was hidden beneath his bandages, but his gaze was clearly filled with shock.
"Shall we continue?"
Kirishima Bupai's voice broke the silence, flat and even, yet carrying an unparalleled sense of pressure.
This time, no one spoke.
Even the most unruly of them, Sanemi, temporarily suppressed his anger. Clenching his teeth, he slowly rose from the ground and stared at Kirishima Bupai with a complicated look in his eyes.
The gap in their strength lay starkly before them.
An exaggerated, ringing exclamation broke the brief silence.
"Flashy! So flashy!!!"
Tengen Uzui suddenly clapped his hands. The livid anger vanished from his face, replaced by undisguised amazement and admiration.
He strode forward and walked halfway around Kirishima Bupai, his burning gaze examining that white-and-gold cloak and upright figure as though admiring a priceless treasure.
"That bearing! That speed!"
"That footwork, like teleportation! And that utterly calm, precise judgment! It's so flashy it's dazzling!"
Tengen Uzui's voice brimmed with excitement.
"I've never seen a boy as flashy as you! The last person who amazed me with his flashiness was that kid, the Mist Hashira Muichiro Tokito!"
"But yours is an entirely different kind of flashiness! The ultimate flashiness, a perfect fusion of strength and technique, wildness and precision! It's practically art born for battle!"
Tengen Uzui's change in attitude was so swift and complete that several of the other Hashira glanced his way.
His earlier scorn and anger seemed never to have existed, leaving only a fanatical appreciation for flashiness.
Patting Kirishima Bupai's shoulder firmly, Tengen Uzui declared with absolute conviction, "You have what it takes to become a Hashira! An incredibly flashy Hashira, at that! I, Tengen Uzui, acknowledge you!"
Meanwhile, Kyojuro Rengoku held a hand beneath his ribs, his open and forthright nature swiftly suppressing his earlier shock and sense of defeat.
He straightened his back, a blazing light rekindling in his eyes-the respect and recognition he held for a truly powerful warrior. "Umu! Magnificent, Kirishima!"
"Your strength truly is as mighty as a storm! I, Kyojuro Rengoku, underestimated you! That power is worthy of the name of Hashira!"
Rengoku frankly admitted his defeat and his admiration for Kirishima's strength.
"Tch...!"
Sanemi Shinazugawa clicked his tongue loudly, stood up from the ground, and brushed the dust off his knee.
But most of the hostility and contempt in his eyes had faded, replaced by gravity and scrutiny.
Although he said nothing, the humiliation of being so thoroughly subdued instead forced him to face the terrifying strength of the newcomer before him.
He stared intently at Kirishima Bupai, as though assessing a true beast of prey.
A trace of warmth finally entered Shinobu Kocho's smile, though a searching look still lingered deep in her eyes. "My, my, that was truly... eye-opening."
She lightly tapped her chin with a fingertip. "Power like that really does give us something to look forward to!"
Mitsuri Kanroji's cheeks flushed with excitement. "S-so amazing! He's so handsome!"
Obanai Iguro's serpentine eyes flickered slightly above his bandages, but he remained silent.
Gyomei Himejima pressed his palms together, another two streams of hot tears falling as though he were deeply moved. "Amitabha... Such power... is also ordained by heaven..."
As for Giyu Tomioka, he remained silent, but the hand resting on his sword hilt quietly relaxed.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki's gentle voice sounded at just the right moment, dispelling the last trace of tension over the training ground. "It seems Kirishima's strength is no longer in any doubt. Now, have you decided on your Hashira title?"
Raising a hand to straighten the collar of the cloak that Rengoku's flames had stirred, Kirishima Bupai spoke casually. "What I practice is a Breathing Style I created myself, called Void Breathing."
"Void Breathing?!"
At these words, several Hashira looked astonished once again. Creating one's own Breathing Style was rare enough, let alone one related to an abstruse attribute like "space"!
Tengen Uzui's eyes positively lit up. "Void? Flashy! It fits perfectly! The name itself has a boundlessly flashy feel!"
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