Oboro and Ichiei arrived at the desolate wilderness outside the city.
They stood facing each other.
As Ichiei breathed, birthmark-like patterns appeared behind his ears and extended down to his neck.
The Demon Mark had been activated.
Oboro instantly observed that the man's physical fortitude had become incomparably powerful.
However... it was still only powerful relative to an ordinary person.
Ichiei raised his Nichirin Blade. Beneath his calm gaze lay the resolve to die.
"It seems... you also know that you cannot defeat me."
Oboro, though now free of illness, still carried the cane given to him by Tanjiro Kamado, and leaned on it as he spoke.
Years ago, when he had toyed with Ichiei and six other Hashira, he had used this very same stick.
"Winning or losing... sometimes it doesn't matter," Ichiei replied.
Oboro clapped his hands in praise. "Although I have not met the current generation of Hashira, I truly admire you seven... more than anyone else."
"You are a demon," Ichiei stated plainly.
"From your perspective... that is correct."
Oboro raised one hand. Under Ichiei's watchful eyes, the color of one of his fingers suddenly changed. The moment it touched the sunlight, that fingertip was burned into flying ash.
But when he lowered his arm, the finger hidden under his sleeve regrew, returned to its normal appearance, and was no longer affected by the sun.
"However, I do not consider myself a demon... The standard for judging whether one is human or demon should not be appearance, but the heart."
Oboro smiled faintly.
"Stop pretending... To this world, you are the most dangerous evil demon!"
The veins on the back of Ichiei's hand gripping the hilt bulged. In an instant, he rushed right in front of Oboro.
The blade's light flashed like a fleeting vision — perfect in both speed and angle, almost impossible to perceive.
Yet, Oboro still blocked it with his cane, holding it across his chest.
At this moment, Kawai Ichiei, always composed, revealed a side of himself unknown to others. His eyes burned with killing intent, and his face, close enough to touch, became greatly distorted with rage.
"Hmm?"
Oboro was about to counterattack when suddenly his eyebrows lifted.
He felt his entire arm become incredibly heavy; his movements were being restricted.
Water Breathing — a new technique!
It seemed capable of restraining the target. The pressure of the blade had made the surrounding air feel thick and viscous.
"You have grown considerably," Oboro sighed with emotion.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Ichiei gave no response. Their weapons clashed rapidly.
Oboro's smile grew wider as he realized... the tricks and techniques he had used to toy with them back then were now completely ineffective against Ichiei.
This had only happened once before — when he fought Kokushibō.
"Every night I dream, I relive and study every move you made... Now, I return it all to you." Ichiei spoke coldly.
As their weapons intertwined, Oboro continuously retreated while Ichiei pressed forward relentlessly.
Moreover, Oboro's wooden cane was now covered in nicks and cuts from the Nichirin Blade.
There was no way around it; he could no longer rely on skill to make up for the fundamental difference in quality between the two different materials.
When it came to swordsmanship, Oboro truly wasn't very proficient.
By mastering the art of breathing, Ichiei had gained a deeper understanding of breath control.
Naturally, he had developed new techniques derived from Water Breathing that suited him perfectly.
To launch an effective attack on Oboro, he had to innovate and evolve.
Otherwise, relying solely on the basics of breathing techniques would be useless.
That night years ago had already proven that.
It was clear Ichiei had put in immense effort.
Moments later, with a sharp crack, the wooden cane slipped from Oboro's hand and was sent flying away by Ichiei's strike...
Dazzling blade light transformed before his eyes into a winding stream, like a pale blue thread, falling straight toward his neck.
Oboro leaned back and leaped away, dodging the strike. However, his black haori was caught by the force of the blade and torn clean in two.
Kawai Ichiei possessed the power to slay an Upper Rank!
He was currently the only active Hashira in the Demon Slayer Corps who had successfully killed an Upper Rank.
"Drop the pretense... I have now earned the qualification to truly threaten you." Ichiei's aura climbed to its peak.
In the past, all seven of them had fought Oboro all night without even scratching him, leaving not a single mark on his clothes.
But now, the distinctive haori Oboro had always worn was finally ruined... In a way, it was an omen that times had changed.
The man still appeared relaxed... but in Ichiei's eyes, it looked more like arrogance.
Arrogance... had its price.
Especially the arrogance that scorned life.
Oboro glanced at the cane lying in the distance, then at the torn pieces of his clothing on the ground, before looking back at Ichiei.
"When I first taught the Demon Slayer Corps the art of breathing, my purpose was to 'plant seeds.' You seven were the first batch... Looking at it now, only you have sprouted, while the rest were weeded out."
"This harvest has exceeded my expectations... I originally thought I wouldn't see any sign of growth in your generation."
"I still underestimated the potential created by inherited will."
"Excellent."
"You are finally willing to tell the truth and show your true colors?"
Ichiei observed that the man's expression had turned icy cold, and the aura radiating from him had begun to turn terrifying.
No longer the disguise of a gentle, approachable scholar.
But a terrifying creature exuding danger from every pore.
"True colors? This is indeed my original personality. I just never found it worth being serious around the weak... I am only letting you see the real me because I admire your resolve."
"I hope... you do not come to regret it."
As the words left his mouth, Ichiei's soul trembled. Instinctively, he prepared one of the lethal techniques he had devised.
"Water Breathing..."
But before he could finish speaking or even assume the starting stance, the ground opposite him heaved and exploded with a thunderous roar.
The man moved with terrifying speed, as if crossing through time and space, appearing instantly before him.
The sheer wind pressure generated made Ichiei squint, his hair whipping wildly about his face.
Using the power of the Demon Mark and the breathing technique, Ichiei forcefully unleashed his incomplete sword pressure...
But it shattered instantly like a mirror struck by a hammer. The spray of water formed by
Water Breathing dried up and vanished in a heartbeat. A fist, carrying power beyond description, destroyed everything in its path.
Compared to the pressure radiating from this fist, Ichiei felt his own sword techniques were like child's play.
No one could possibly withstand the force contained within that blow.
I'm going to die!
The thought flashed through Ichiei's mind.
He couldn't believe it.
Yet, he did not waver. He stubbornly continued to swing his blade.
He... would not retreat.
After shattering his sword stance, the fist changed mid-air, opening into a palm that suddenly clamped around Ichiei's neck.
As Oboro's fingers tightened, Ichiei instantly found himself unable to breathe. His face turned a deep purple-red, and within seconds, white foam formed at the corners of his mouth.
His mind grew hazy, yet his grip on the hilt never loosened. Instead, slowly and weakly, he began to raise his sword, aiming to drive it into Oboro's body.
He had to fulfill his will.
Oboro's grip tightened further until Ichiei's eyes rolled back and blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
"Do you see now?"
"This is the real me."
"In this state, I abide by my personal will — where my own will is supreme... This is also the state I am most accustomed to."
"This will of mine is a gift left to me by a world you cannot even begin to imagine... Although I have always praised your concept of inherited will, do not misunderstand. Compared to my will... the little resolve you possess... is nothing but trash."
Oboro spoke without a shred of emotion.
By this point, Ichiei could barely hear what was being said to him.
"Your growth... surprised me. As a seed from the Demon Slayer Corps, you still have value to me."
"Go become a trainer... Let the next generation stand upon your shoulders, so they may reach toward the higher heavens."
"I am being very gentle now... You certainly wouldn't want to see what I would do to this world if I acted purely upon my personal will."
With that, Oboro threw the nearly suffocated Ichiei aside like a piece of garbage.
"Compared to true destruction... you should be happy you've got off this lightly."
____________________
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