Doma still wore that same false smile of compassion.
In his eyes, Inosuke's reckless, furious charge was no different from a moth flying into a flame.
He could even call this display of primal hatred his favorite "seasoning."
"How pitiful. You've even forgotten your own origins."
Doma casually swung the Golden Iron Fan in his hand.
He used no Blood Demon Art.
He merely stirred up a gust of frigid wind.
He could not even be bothered to dodge. He intended to swat this boar away like a fly in the simplest way possible, then take his time admiring the sight of him frozen into an ice sculpture.
Shinobu Kocho's and Kanao's hearts rose into their throats.
They wanted to help, but their bodies simply could not move fast enough.
The gap in strength between Inosuke and Upper Rank Two was an insurmountable chasm.
The fan was about to strike Inosuke's head.
At that critical instant.
A cluster of black flames appeared out of thin air without warning, landing precisely on Doma's Golden Iron Fan.
"Amaterasu."
Uesugi Sasuke's icy voice sounded like a verdict bringing this farce to an end.
The black flames seemed alive. The instant they took hold, they blazed fiercely.
A bizarre sight unfolded.
Doma's iron fan had been forged from his own flesh and blood mixed with a special metal. It was incredibly hard and carried an extremely low temperature.
Yet before those black flames, all of that became meaningless.
There was no fierce crackling.
There was no billowing smoke.
The black flames merely licked quietly at the fan's surface, while the fan itself was "devoured" at a visible rate, broken down and reduced to nothing.
For the first time, the smile froze on Doma's face.
He felt a searing pain.
It was not the burning