Chapter 56: 19% Qualitative Change
For ordinary people, a supersonic blood arrow was impossible to track with the naked eye.
Even for the average jujutsu sorcerer, Piercing Blood was a fatal strike.
As one of the Kamo clan's secret techniques, its core lay in overwhelming initial speed and terrifying penetrative force. The moment it was unleashed, it became less a projectile and more a killing line drawn through space itself.
At that instant, only a crimson afterimage remained reflected in Kamo Noritoshi's pupils.
He believed no one could dodge it.
At this distance, at this speed, unless the opponent possessed something absurd like Satoru Gojo's Limitless, even a Special Grade cursed spirit would have its skull punched through by that attack.
But in Yami's perception, the world slowed.
It was as though reality itself had been seized by the throat and dragged into stillness.
Thump. Thump.
His own heartbeat echoed in his ears, deep and steady, like a war drum in the dark.
The forest around him lost its color. The world was stripped down to black, white, and lines.
Wind.
Breath.
Pulse.
Muscle tension.
The trembling of leaves.
Everything became unnaturally clear.
That streak of red was no longer just a blur. In his eyes, it became a dense mass of high speed liquid, compressed to its absolute limit. He could see the path of every rotating thread of blood, the way cursed energy wrapped around it, propelling it forward with violent precision.
[Ding! Host detected in high intensity combat state!]
[Current mental focus has reached its peak. Entering Semi Transparent World state for a brief period!]
[Tsugikuni Yoriichi template resonance deepening!]
[Synchronization increased to 19%!]
[Unlocked: Sun Breathing Seventh Form, Sunflower Thrust. Eighth Form, Solar Heat Haze. Ninth Form, Setting Sun Transformation!]
The system's voice rang in his mind, crisp and bright.
At the same time, something deeper opened inside him.
A sensation infinitely close to the Transparent World spread through his body.
The sword in his hand no longer felt like steel. It felt like an extension of his nerves, his flesh, his will. Even the specks of dust drifting in the air seemed to brush against the edges of his consciousness.
Yami exhaled slowly.
The breath that left his lips was scorching white, turning into visible vapor the instant it hit the air, as if the heat inside him had already climbed beyond the ordinary limits of the body.
Total Concentration: Sun Breathing.
He did not dodge.
Facing the blood arrow that could tear through steel and bone alike, he chose not defense, but offense.
He raised Shiranui.
"Seventh Form, Sunflower Thrust."
He moved.
There were no wasted motions. No dramatic windup. No grand flourish.
Only a single thrust.
But in that instant, Shiranui became a ray of golden light.
Every ounce of his strength, every thread of speed, every drop of will condensed into the tip of the blade. A single point meant to pierce through a surface. Strength meeting strength. Velocity shattering velocity.
The strike was fast beyond reason.
So fast that there was no afterimage.
It was as though, the moment Yami chose to thrust, the tip of his blade had already reached its target.
Clang!
A piercing metallic shriek exploded through the forest.
It was the sound of blade tip meeting Piercing Blood head on, so sharp and sudden that everyone present felt their eardrums ache.
Then came the hiss.
Sizzle. Sizzle. Sizzle.
The compressed blood arrow, forged from Kamo Noritoshi's full cursed energy and compressed to monstrous density, met the tip of Shiranui and instantly began to boil apart.
Like snow cast into the sun.
Like frost thrown into a furnace.
The blood did not pierce through. It evaporated.
The terrifying rotational force inside it, enough to shred flesh and punch through armor, was crushed flat by that single thrust infused with the scorching authority of Sun Breathing.
A cloud of red vapor burst outward, thick with the smell of iron and burnt blood.
Kamo Noritoshi's eyes widened so far they almost seemed about to split.
"What...?!"
His proud finishing move had been destroyed from the front.
Not dodged.
Not blocked.
Broken.
And it had been broken by meeting its point with a sword tip.
That demanded accuracy so monstrous it bordered on madness. If the angle had been off by even a fraction, Yami's head would have been blown open.
But before Kamo could even process the shock, Yami vanished.
Sun Breathing, Ninth Form, Setting Sun Transformation.
The youth who had been several meters away seemed to flicker through space itself and reappear in front of Kamo in an instant, like the final flash of sunset before the light disappeared completely.
Kamo's Flowing Red Scale had sharpened his reflexes to their limit.
It still meant nothing.
By the time his brain registered the movement, Shiranui's tip was already hovering an inch from the center of his forehead.
Heat radiated from the blade.
Not enough to cut, not enough to kill, but enough to scorch. His eyebrows curled. The skin of his forehead prickled with burning pain.
The whole forest seemed to stop breathing.
Kamo remained frozen in the posture of attack, not daring to move even a fraction.
Cold sweat flooded down his back.
He understood with perfect clarity that if Yami's hand moved forward just a little, just the slightest bit, his skull would split open on the spot.
For the first time in his life, death stood before him in such a quiet and undeniable form.
Yami looked into his eyes.
"Your blood," he said calmly.
Then, just as slowly, he withdrew the blade and returned it to the scabbard.
Click.
The sound of tsuba meeting sheath rang through the dead silent clearing like a final judgment.
"...is afraid."
Those words hit Kamo harder than the sword ever could.
Not only had his technique been broken, his pride had been broken with it.
His lineage, his inherited art, his faith in the strength of the Kamo family, all of it felt laughably small in front of the boy before him.
Pfft.
A mouthful of blood spilled from Kamo's lips.
This time it was not the backlash of technique.
It was humiliation.
Shock.
The collapse of conviction.
His knees gave out. He dropped to the ground, barely catching himself with trembling arms.
He had lost.
Completely.
From beginning to end, Yami had not taken a single step back.
Yet the entire Kyoto team had failed to so much as brush the hem of his clothes.
"What... what are you...?"
Kamo's voice shook as he stared up from the ground.
"What kind of monster are you...?"
He truly did not understand.
How could someone without cursed energy become this strong?
Was the jujutsu world's common sense wrong from the beginning?
Yami did not answer.
His gaze had already shifted, cutting past Kamo and turning toward the deeper forest.
Something was approaching.
No, not something.
Someone.
A monstrous pressure rolled in from afar, wild and overbearing. Trees shook. Birds exploded from the canopy in alarm. Small animals fled the underbrush like prey before a predator.
Yami's lips curved slightly.
"So you finally came."
For the first time since the battle began, real fighting spirit ignited in his eyes.
Everything before this had only been a warmup.
Children's games.
Even while facing Kyoto's combined assault, he had been holding back, teaching more than destroying.
But now, the one person worthy of being called an opponent had arrived.
"Yamiiiiii!"
A roar full of blood, excitement, and lunatic enthusiasm crashed through the forest before the man himself did.
"Brother! My best friend! I've finally found you!"
Boom!
A huge figure burst through the trees, tearing branches apart like paper. He landed heavily in the clearing, feet sinking into the earth, dust rising around him in a violent ring.
When the dust thinned, the man standing there was tall, broad, and bare chested, his muscles hard as carved stone.
A scar crossed his face.
His grin was enormous.
Kyoto Jujutsu High, third year.
Grade 1 sorcerer.
Aoi Todo.
He looked around once, taking in the scene. Kasumi and Mai down. Mechamaru split open. Kamo kneeling, pale and broken. Nishimiya still hanging high above, too afraid to descend.
Then he turned his eyes back to Yami.
Instead of anger, delight exploded across his face.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Well done!"
"As expected of the man I, Aoi Todo, acknowledge!"
He slammed a fist against his own chest with a booming thud.
"What's the point of boring hunting games and sneaky little schemes?"
"Only a clash between men is true romance!"
He took one step forward, and the ground answered with a dull crack.
His eyes burned with pure exhilaration.
"Come, brother!"
"Let me see the shape of your soul!"
And at last, across the ruined clearing and the defeated remnants of Kyoto's pride, Yami lifted his eyes to meet him.
This time, he smiled.
.....
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