"Tomioka Giyu! Urgent message!"
A black crow burst through the morning mist, crashing against the paper window with a sharp cry that shattered the calm dawn.
Tomioka Giyu had just finished his morning training. His Nichirin Sword was still unsheathed when the sound reached him. He rushed forward instantly, grabbing the bamboo tube tied to the crow's leg.
He unrolled the paper. Kocho Shinobu's handwriting was far messier than usual—uneven, rushed, trembling.
"Tomioka-san! My sister went to the northern region alone for a mission. The target may be an Upper Moon! I just received her distress signal. She's in danger! Please… go save her!"
The words Upper Moon struck Giyu like a hammer blow.
He gripped the paper so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Northern region—Upper Moon—he didn't need to think twice. It had to be Douma!
Images from his previous life tore through his mind: a blizzard of ice flowers, a blood-stained butterfly haori, and Douma's twisted, mocking smile.
"To!"
His voice rang through the hall, sharper and louder than ever before. "I have an emergency mission! Stay at the base and wait for Suzuki to return—have him train with you!"
A startled "Yes, Shishou!" came faintly from the inner room, but Giyu didn't wait for him to appear. He snatched up his haori and Nichirin Sword and bolted out the door.
He didn't have time for more words. Only one thought burned in his mind—Faster. Faster!
He could not, would not, let that tragedy happen again.
His legs kicked off the ground, and his breathing shifted in an instant—not to Water Breathing, but to Wind Breathing, the style he'd learned from Shinazugawa Sanemi.
A faint green afterimage tore through the air. Giyu's speed nearly doubled. The forest blurred past him, wind howling in his ears, cutting against his face like blades.
Halfway down the mountain, he stopped and raised his arm. A second crow swooped down, ready for orders.
"Find Shinazugawa Sanemi immediately! Tell him—the Flower Hashira is under attack in the north, by an Upper Moon! If he arrives late, he'll never see Kanae again!"
The crow screeched twice and shot off toward the Wind Hashira's base.
Without pausing, Giyu drew in another sharp breath, activating Wind Breathing again. His figure vanished down the snowy road, an arrow loosed into the storm.
Deep in the northern mountains, fierce winds carried shards of ice that slashed against Kocho Kanae's skin like knives.
Her butterfly-patterned haori was shredded, thin trails of blood staining her shoulder and back. Her face was pale, her breathing ragged and shallow.
Before her stood a man clad in a white monk's robe, his face adorned with a falsely gentle smile—Upper Moon Two, Douma.
He toyed with a lotus flower sculpted from ice, letting it spin gracefully on his fingertip, reflecting the frigid light.
"My, my… what a lovely lady you are," Douma cooed, his voice soft as silk yet devoid of warmth.
"To stand this long under my Frozen Lotus—how impressive."
Kanae gripped her Nichirin Sword, her arms trembling slightly.
Douma's Blood Demon Art was monstrous—tiny ice particles filled the air, and once inhaled, they froze the lungs, choking the flow of breathing. It was nearly impossible to use Flower Breathing properly.
Moments ago, she had barely managed to unleash Flower Breathing, Fourth Form: Crimson Hanagoromo, but Douma had dissolved it effortlessly. His ice blades had cut through her shoulder in return.
"What… do you want?" Kanae's voice quivered, her throat burning with iron.
She knew she couldn't defeat him—not alone. All she could do was hold out long enough for help to arrive.
She had already sent a message through her crow. She prayed Shinobu had received it and called for backup.
"What do I want?"
Douma laughed lightly, his eyes curling like crescent moons. "Why, to eat you, of course. The flesh of a Hashira must taste divine. And you—so graceful, so beautiful—devouring you would be an act of pure beauty."
He lifted his hand, and dozens of ice needles crystallized at his fingertips. "But before I eat you, I'd like to see your face twisted in despair. Someone as gentle as you—your despair must be exquisite."
The needles shot toward her like a blizzard, so fast they vanished from sight.
Kanae twisted her body desperately, dodging what she could, but several struck her arm, slicing through skin. Blood splattered the snow, freezing almost instantly into red ice.
Her breathing faltered further. It felt like her lungs were packed with ice blocks—every breath burned with pain.
Her rhythm broke. She couldn't even maintain a basic defensive stance.
Douma stepped closer, smiling brightly. "What's wrong? Not fighting back anymore? That's a shame. I wanted to play a little longer."
He reached out, fingers cold and pale, inching toward her cheek. "Don't be scared. It'll all be over soon…"
But just as his fingers were about to touch her skin—
A golden flash ripped through the snowstorm, so fast even Douma couldn't react in time!
"Hinokami Kagura: First Form—Dance!"
A blade of golden fire cut through the air like the rising sun, cleaving Douma's outstretched arm clean off.
Black blood splattered across the snow, sizzling and burning where it landed. The sunlit flames of the Breath of the Sun not only severed flesh—they scorched the wound itself, halting regeneration.
"What?!"
Douma's smile froze on his face. He stared at his severed arm on the snow, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
"Ah re…?"
From deep within his body, the cells of Kibutsuji Muzan flickered, casting a memory before him.
Tomioka Giyu landed in front of Kocho Kanae, his deep-blue haori snapping sharply in the icy wind.
He stood between her and Douma, the golden glow still faintly burning on his Nichirin Sword. His voice was low and cold enough to freeze the air itself. "Step away from her."
"Tomioka-san!"
Kanae looked at his back—shock gave way to relief. She had already accepted death moments ago, yet he had arrived in time.
Douma's eyes narrowed in intrigue as he studied the man before him. "You're the Water Hashira, huh? Haven't seen one in a hundred years. But… that breathing style just now—Hinokami Kagura, wasn't it? Oh, how fascinating. Truly fascinating!"
The severed arm at his feet twitched and squirmed, trying to regenerate—but the process was sluggish. The sun's energy from the Breath of the Sun still seared through his body, slowing his recovery to a crawl.
Douma clicked his tongue, abandoning the idea of fast regeneration. Ice mist swirled at his fingertips, coalescing into jagged blades. "Since you've come all this way, I'll eat you too! The flesh of two Hashira will make me stronger than ever!"
Giyu didn't waste words. He inhaled deeply.
This time, he didn't use just Wind Breathing, nor simply Water Breathing.
He fused the purifying power of the Breath of the Sun into the flowing rhythm of Water Breathing. The blade shimmered in intertwined hues of blue and gold.
"Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"
The overlapping arcs of his sword fell like shooting stars, surging with the endless flow of water and the searing heat of the sun, striking straight for Douma's heart.
An ice wall instantly formed before him—thick, crystal-clear. "Frozen Crystal Wall!"
Crash!
The blade struck, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the frozen barrier. The sharp sound of shattering filled the air, though the wall barely held.
Douma seized the moment, launching dozens of razor-sharp ice shards. Their angles were wicked, covering both Giyu and Kanae in a deadly storm.
"Watch out!"
Giyu spun around, his sword flashing in front of Kanae as he swept out a glimmering wave.
"Water Breathing, Eleventh Form: Dead Calm!"
A tranquil, pale-blue water ring spread out, catching every incoming shard midair. The ice shattered harmlessly against it—but Giyu's movement left him open.
"My, my," Douma chuckled, eyes gleaming. "That's a form I haven't seen before. You really are the most interesting Water Hashira I've ever met."
He vanished in an instant, appearing behind Giyu. Ice condensed at the stump of his missing arm, shaping into a sword that gleamed with freezing light.
"Too slow, Water Hashira!"
Giyu twisted at the last second. The ice blade grazed his ribs, leaving a thin line of blood.
He retaliated immediately, swinging his sword in a wide arc. This time, he blended Wind Breathing into the flow—Raging Surge.
"Water Breathing, Twelfth Form: Raging Surge!"
A deep-blue wave surged forward, fierce as a flood, carrying the sharpness of the wind and the burning pulse of the sun. It slammed into Douma's shoulder.
Douma flinched in surprise, leaping back too late—the strike grazed his flesh, and black blood sprayed into the snow.
"Interesting! Interesting! Hahahaha!"
His laughter grew wild, ecstatic. "You're far more fun than I expected! But do you really think this is enough to defeat me?"
He raised both hands high. The temperature plummeted instantly. Ice crystals thickened in the air, swirling into a massive vortex.
"Blood Demon Art: Freezing Clouds!"
The blizzard roared to life, sweeping toward Giyu and Kanae. Everywhere it touched, snow turned to sharp ice spires.
Giyu stepped in front of Kanae again, exhaling steadily. He activated all three breathing styles at once—
the blazing core of the Breath of the Sun, the fluid grace of Water Breathing, and the fierce edge of Wind Breathing.
"Hinokami Kagura, Second Form: Clear Blue Sky!"
"Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance!"
"Wind Breathing, Second Form: Claws-Purifying Wind!"
The three styles fused in perfect harmony. His sword emitted a tricolored brilliance—blue, gold, and green—cutting through the raging blizzard like a beacon in the storm.
Step by step, Giyu pushed forward, shielding Kanae as the ice cracked beneath his feet.
Douma's grin faltered. Even he hadn't expected this man to wield three breathing styles at once—and channel the sun's energy within them.
Under the sun's radiance, the storm's strength began to wane.
"My, my! How can you use so many styles at once? Don't tell me you're some kind of genius?"
Douma laughed, forming more ice blades, and lunged again.
Giyu said nothing. His eyes stayed locked on his enemy, his swings sharp and deliberate.
He knew the truth—he couldn't win.
Upper Moon Two's strength was overwhelming. His own power was nearly spent; his chest throbbed with pain, and his breathing had grown uneven.
He was barely holding on. All he could do now was stall for time—until Sanemi arrived.
'Shinazugawa … hurry up…'
Blood dripped from his wounds, steaming where it touched the snow. Still, his sword didn't falter.
He had to hold. He had to survive until the Wind Hashira came. Only together could they stand a chance.
Douma's eyes glinted coldly, as if reading his mind. "Oh? Trying to buy time? Futile, my dear Water Hashira. I'll devour you first, and then that lovely lady over there!"
He smirked. "I don't usually like eating men, but for you… I'll make an exception."
The ice shards rained down again, slicing through the air like a storm. Fresh wounds opened across Giyu's arms and shoulders.
He clenched his teeth, drawing in one more breath, golden light erupting once again from his blade. The sheer force of it forced Douma to retreat several steps.
Kanae leaned weakly against a tree, watching the scene. Her chest tightened at the sight of Giyu's blood-soaked form still standing firm against the blizzard.
She wanted to help—but every breath burned. She could only steady her breathing, ready to move the instant she saw an opening.
The storm raged, snow and ice swirling with flashes of gold and blue. Blood streaked across the white ground, stark and brutal under the moonlight.
Giyu's grip on his Nichirin Sword trembled. His arms felt heavier with every swing, his strength ebbing fast. Yet his eyes burned brighter, unwavering.
'Just a little longer… Shinazugawa will be here soon…'
He inhaled sharply, raising his sword once more, ready to face Douma's next attack head-on.