Bang!
The man and his sword exploded into action. As they approached Oboro, the four pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps hit what felt like a trampoline and were instantly flung away by an invisible force.
It was merely a wooden staff.
Oboro held the staff crafted for him by Tanjuro Kamado and wielded it like a blade. He systematically broke through the pillars' breathing methods and sword skills one by one.
Sayuri, the Light Pillar, watched in disbelief, her pupils dilating. She had witnessed the impossible: the man had used counter-sword techniques to effortlessly expose the weaknesses in their most refined skills!
Breathing methods only enhance attributes and strength, making sword skills sublime and amplifying sword power. For swordsmen, the ability to wield their blades was the top priority when facing enemies. Different Nichirin Swords have different applications, and the sword skills they enable vary significantly.
Sayuri's Sun Blade, empowered by her breathing technique, relied more on feinting, stabbing, and thrusting. Tiezhu's swordsmanship was average, but her strength lay in the unpredictable combinations and variations of her weapon, making her attacks nearly impossible to defend against.
Rengoku and Giyue's swordsmanship also had distinct characteristics.
Yet that's precisely how it happened. In an instant, Oboro dismantled their techniques with his skills. He didn't rely on powerful breathing techniques or physical strength; rather, he relied on superior technical skill.
This man possessed unfathomable combat experience.
Oboro knocked all four of the Nichirin Swords from their hands.
As Shi Wei was about to hit the ground, he supported himself with one hand, flipped to land on his feet, and quickly stepped forward to catch the falling Lily. Meanwhile, Tiezhu slid more than ten meters along the ground in an embarrassing posture, covered in mud.
Since Rengoku's injuries hadn't healed, he fell directly to the ground, looking ugly.
Despite their defeat, the Rock Pillar and Wind Pillar quickly filled the gap, demonstrating astonishing reaction time and coordination. The moment Sayuri fell and was caught by the Water Pillar, another figure rushed toward their target, preventing Oboro from advancing.
The Wind Pillar and Rock Pillar flashed into position, one in front of Oboro and one behind.
Sharp, dense flashes of blades swept across Oboro's body like a slanting torrent.
He stood there, holding the wooden staff in one hand and swinging it left and right. To observers, the attacks from both pillars formed a cold shadow that completely enveloped his body. Their combined strikes numbered in the dozens within mere seconds.
Even more bizarre was the fact that Oboro's weapon, just a piece of wood, somehow withstood the razor-sharp Nichirin swords.
The air was filled with the constant sounds of jingling and clanging.
"Amazing!"
The Wind Pillar concentrated harder than ever before, his eyes capturing every movement the man made. The more he observed, the more unsettled he became.
He realized that Oboro didn't know how to use a sword.
The staff never directly touched the blade's edge.
Instead, when it collided with the Sun Blade, Oboro changed the angle of his staff so that the impact hit only the flat side of the blade, not the edge. With every block, parry, or counter, Oboro observed the force and angle of the sword, understood his opponent's movements, and found the weakest point on the blade. With just a light tap or whip, he could neutralize the sword's force and alter its angle.
This happened every single time. Without exception.
Even when the Wind Pillar recognized the pattern and changed his moves or dodged preemptively, it made no difference.
This man never made a single mistake.
His breathing method and sword skills made the Wind Pillar seem like a child playing before Oboro.
I don't understand!
The Wind Pillar couldn't comprehend it either. His breathing method and sword skills had been passed down through generations, with experience accumulated from countless battles against demons. Unless this man had an extraordinarily thorough understanding of Wind Breathing, how could he perform like this?
Furthermore, it wasn't just him. The Rock Pillar was in the same situation.
They attacked from both sides, not fighting alone! Even if Oboro understood Wind Breathing, did he also understand Rock Breathing?
"Rock Breathing, Form Eight: Open Heaven!"
While the Wind Pillar's focus wavered slightly, the Rock Pillar suddenly leaped upward and unleashed his "self-created technique," a skill developed based on Rock Breathing fundamentals and his personal fighting style.
Almost every generation of pillars mastered such techniques.
The breathing method itself had been researched and passed down through generations of swordsmen.
While the foundation remained consistent, the variations derived from each breathing style weren't universally applicable. They depended entirely on the practitioner's individual circumstances.
"Yes!"
Hope flickered in the Wind Pillar's eyes.
The best way to break through an enemy's defenses was through innovation and unpredictability.
Although Oboro was intimately familiar with Rock Breathing, the Rock Pillar's technique was unique to him and had never been used before. Surely this would catch their opponent off guard.
The Rock Pillar evidently felt the same.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, the light in the Wind Pillar's eyes began to ripple.
The Rock Pillar's Nichirin sword was an enormous, axe-shaped weapon with a massive blade designed for pure destruction. He also possessed the most impressive physical strength of all the pillars. Though his weapon was large and unwieldy, it seemed light as a feather in his hands. Empowered by his breathing technique, the sword could reshape the world.
It was enough to cleave the man in half from above.
However, just as the axe was about to split Oboro's skull, he raised his wooden staff and struck the side of the axe with its tip. The Rock Pillar's hand movements faltered, and the terrifying power behind his strike vanished instantly.
With a loud bang, before the Rock Pillar's body even touched the ground, he turned into a straight black shadow and was kicked away by Oboro.
Then, the Wind Pillar's vision blurred.
Oboro turned and landed a punch directly on his cheek.
His facial features distorted, and saliva and blood sprayed from his mouth. He flew backward alongside the Rock Pillar.
Though this sequence seemed to unfold in slow motion, it actually happened in a flash.
Despite the Rock and Wind Pillars failing to make an impact with their attacks, the other pillars remained resolute. If anything, it heightened their awareness.
The six pillars coordinated their movements and frantically circled Oboro.
Flashes of swords, blood, and murderous intent filled the air.
However, although their determination was admirable and their teamwork was flawless, effort alone wouldn't guarantee success.
Against absolute strength, they had to accept reality.
While they fought with desperate intensity, Oboro moved with casual grace and effortless composure.
Some of the Six clearly considered sacrificing themselves to create an opening for their comrades. The problem was that Oboro wouldn't give them the chance. This was especially true of Rengoku, who deliberately placed himself in the path of Oboro's wooden staff multiple times. He hoped to either grab the "improvised weapon" with both hands or embrace Oboro to restrict his movement.
However, Rengoku's self-sacrifice was unsuccessful.
Oboro seemed to read their every intention.
Their strategies were transparent to him.
They used six different breathing methods to generate diverse sword powers, such as fire, water, colorful light, and powerful axe strikes. Yet on this small battlefield, they were powerless against the man in the black feather robe.
Even now, Oboro's haori remained elegantly draped over his shoulders.
His footwork was impeccable, sometimes light as air, sometimes bursting with extraordinary power. He navigated the gaps between deadly blades with apparent ease.
He swung his wooden staff left and right, neutralizing their most lethal techniques.
As time passed, the pillars grew increasingly desperate, as if an invisible hand were pushing them toward an inescapable abyss.
Though not trained in swordsmanship, Oboro wielded the wooden staff like a sword. His movements seemed unpolished and rough, yet he countered with perfect efficiency.
He kept them thoroughly suppressed.
Moreover, his physical strength didn't seem to match what one would expect from a demon. He was only slightly stronger than an ordinary human, temporarily enhanced by breathing techniques. It wasn't unattainable.
But why? Why couldn't they win?
The same thought echoed through all six minds.
Oboro's superior technique allowed him to achieve maximum effect with minimal effort. He exerted hardly any physical strength to match the six pillars, who attacked with everything they had. As the uneven battle continued, Rengoku and the others showed clear signs of fatigue.
Sayuri, in the poorest condition, was completely exhausted.
Yet none of them surrendered!
They would never give up!
"Very nice,"
Oboro smiled.
His original plan had been to kill one or two more pillars after slaying the Lightning Pillar, in order to put psychological pressure on the survivors and test whether their resolve would waver under such circumstances. However, the Lightning Pillar's death had already given him his answer.
There was no need to kill again.
The outcome was clear. No matter how many he killed, even if he slaughtered six of the seven, the remaining one would never retreat.
This was truly commendable.
It was a collective bond and a brilliant inheritance of unwavering will.
It was a "power" that Oboro had never fully experienced in his previous world.
Oboro tried his best to avoid casualties among the elite forces of both the Demon Slayer Corps and the demons while orchestrating the confrontation and hatching the seeds.
Another shocking aspect was that the more desperate and exhausted the six became, the more powerful their combat abilities grew. When physical strength could no longer sustain them, all that remained was pure spirit and will.
This, too, deserved admiration.
Such an illogical phenomenon would have been impossible in his former world because it defied that reality's fundamental principles.
It was also different from the constraints of the afterlife, as well as Gon's dark oath and limitations.
The battle between Oboro and the six pillars raged through the entire night.
The six pillars' strategy was clear: delay as long as possible.
They believed the man was a demon and that victory would be theirs if they simply waited for sunrise.
By the second half of the night, they were completely drained and could only continue through sheer willpower. They were determined to ensure that Oboro would die there that day.
Even if it meant dying alongside him.
They could see that Oboro still had strength in reserve and could likely break through their encirclement to escape.
But he didn't.
They neither knew nor cared about his reasons.
So, when a layer of golden light finally appeared on the distant horizon, heralding the rising sun, Rengoku, his face shattered by Oboro's wooden staff, blood streaming everywhere, couldn't help but shout, "Success!
"We did it!"
It was too late for the man to escape.
There was no shelter nearby to hide from the sunlight.
The other pillars lowered their blades simultaneously and looked toward him.
Their eyes were filled with anticipation.
They were eager to see the demon reduced to ashes by the sun.
There was only one exception: the Water Pillar, Kawai Giyu.
His eyes remained calm, showing no excitement or joy; it was as if he had anticipated what would happen.
Golden rays stretched across the distant sky, illuminating Oboro's body. The morning breeze ruffled his black haori and hair.
He stretched his shoulders and said with a half-smile, "I'm still sore from this much exercise. As expected, even with the root illness removed, my untrained body remains inadequate."
The sun warmed his skin, making him look more awake despite his sleepy expression.
The surrounding pillars were stunned into silence.
He didn't die!
He wasn't a demon!
Rengoku fell to his knees, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Everyone bore different injuries inflicted by Oboro. The Flame Pillar and the Rock Pillar were the worst off.
The Rock Pillar was covered in blood and clutched his axe-shaped Nichirin sword. Though he was still standing, his legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment.
He had reached his absolute limit.
Sayuri's Sun Blade was embedded dozens of meters away. She had lost consciousness minutes ago.
Oboro stood with his back to the rising sun, facing the remaining pillars. From their perspective, his silhouette appeared to be crowned with a layer of golden light, a magnificent sight against the dawn sky.
Since he was human, the Demon Slayer Corps had no jurisdiction over him.
However, they could report him to the Northern District Magistrate's Officesho for arrest since he had killed the Lightning Pillar. But Oboro himself held a leadership position within the Officesho and was a high-ranking shogunate official.
There was no solution.
It seemed their only path to vengeance was death.
"It's impossible! How could he be human?"
Tiezhu refused to accept it.
He wasn't the only one who sensed that something was wrong.
The others had also convinced themselves that the man was a demon.
Oboro raised his hand to adjust his haori and glanced at their expressions. He smiled and said, "I hope you all remember today's lesson. After a night of fighting, you must have gained some understanding." With that, he turned and strode toward the intersection.
"Please send my two maids to Ueno or the pleasure district where I'm staying."
The pleasure district wasn't a specific location. Edo also had a pleasure district called Yoshiwara Flower Street.
The divisions between the North and South regions were distinct. Oboro headed the North Region and lived far from Edo Castle. He determined that the pleasure district where he lived was likely the birthplace of Gyutaro and Daki.
In this era, only a few famous entertainment districts existed.
Most were in the south.
Only one existed in the north: Yoshiwara in Edo Castle.
Oboro had visited the Yoshiwara district in Edo Castle before. The scene there was completely different from his current residence. It was extremely formal, with no slums.
The northern region was cold and snowy year-round.
Considering the environment and other details, the northern region aligned more closely with the original work.
As Oboro left, the Wind Pillar instinctively raised his Sun Blade to block her path.
"You can't leave!
You killed someone!"
Veins bulged on the Wind Pillar's forehead as he stared into Oboro's eyes.
"Yes, I killed people, not only your companion, but also those villagers."
"Why are you taking me to the magistrate's office?"
Oboro asked softly.