Akaza lowered his head.
On his arm, a wound deep enough to expose bone was rapidly healing. Muscle fibers writhed like swarms of red insects, blood vessels reconnected, and skin grew swiftly over flesh. In mere seconds, the grievous injury that would have killed any human on the spot had vanished.
But he felt no pain, only an extreme, unbelievable humiliation.
How long had it been since he became an Upper Rank that a Hashira's attack had landed so cleanly on him? His "Destructive Death: Compass Needle" was perfect, able to sense his opponent's fighting spirit and predict every attack. Though Kyojuro Rengoku's swordsmanship was powerful, it remained within the range of what "Compass Needle" could detect.
Where exactly had that momentary opening come from?
The scene from moments ago flashed through Akaza's mind. It was those Kunai, devoid of fighting spirit and as cold as stones. They had created an insignificant disturbance in his perception, yet Kyojuro had seized that one-in-a-billion opportunity.
The feverish smile vanished from his face, replaced by a twisted gloom. Akaza abruptly raised his head, his gaze passing over the Flame Hashira before him, whose fighting spirit blazed high. For the first time, he truly, properly looked at the black-haired young man standing a little farther away, his presence so restrained it was almost nonexistent.
Uesugi Sasuke.
The newly appointed Thunder Hashira.
Previously, Akaza had regarded him as nothing more than a foot soldier who played clever little tricks and harassed him from the sidelines. But now, he understood. This man was the real reason that last strike had succeeded. That red eye of his seemed capable of seeing through every law, interfering with the battle in a way Akaza could not comprehend.
"So it was you..." Akaza's voice was low and hoarse, the fury