Horitake unleashed his defensive technique: Chidori Current.
A massive surge of violet lightning erupted, swirling violently around him. It coalesced into a dense, crackling electromagnetic web that clung to his skin—a manifestation of absolute defense.
Wrapped in this shroud of hissing electricity, Horitake gripped his blade, Weiguang, and charged headlong into the oncoming deluge of arrows.
He didn't even bother to parry with his sword; he met the storm with sheer, unadulterated force.
As it turned out, once the volley had scattered into thousands of individual shafts, the power behind each arrow was significantly diminished. Horitake, armored in his Chidori Current, tore through the wooden rain like a bolt of lightning through a cloud.
Wherever the Chidori Current touched, the arrows didn't just fall—they disintegrated, bursting into motes of ash and sparks.
But as Horitake pressed his advantage, closing the distance toward Riya, a sinister trap the archer had prepared in advance finally bore fruit.
Hidden within that vast rain of arrows was a single, silent killer: an assassination arrow.
It was the same type of projectile that had nearly claimed Shinobu—utterly silent, devoid of presence, and nearly impossible to detect with the naked eye. Shrouded by the chaos of the thousands of other arrows, it was a ghost in the machine.
Unnoticed by Horitake, this seemingly unremarkable arrow slipped past his guard, whistling harmlessly by his flank.
Why did it miss? Why hadn't it aimed for his heart?
In the art of war, the truth is often found in the shadows of a lie.
This was the ultimate "hidden move" within Riya's arsenal.
The assassination arrow had already flown past Horitake, seemingly a spent force. But in a terrifying display of control, Riya manipulated the projectile. Just as it cleared Horitake's back, the arrow pulled a maneuver smoother than a professional drift, snapping 180 degrees in mid-air.
In the blink of an eye, it lunged forward again, screaming toward the center of Horitake's spine.
Under normal circumstances, such a treacherous move would have claimed the life of any other opponent. It was a masterpiece of deception.
But this was Horitake.
And more importantly, Horitake was currently a living conduit of the Chidori Current.
The technique provided a 360-degree sphere of absolute protection. While the assassination arrow was cunning, its raw piercing power wasn't enough to shatter the electromagnetic barrier guarding Horitake's back.
Furthermore, the moment the arrow pivoted to strike his blind spot, Horitake felt the shift in the air. He sensed the killing intent.
Nothing grated on his nerves more than these underhanded tricks. His annoyance flared into a cold, sharp fury.
With a fluid motion, Horitake swung Weiguang behind his back, adopting the defensive posture of "Su Qin Carrying the Sword," using the broad side of the blade as a shield for his spine.
Clang!
The assassination arrow slammed accurately into Weiguang's steel. It remained pinned there, unable to advance an inch, let alone draw blood.
Anger surged through Horitake, channeled directly into his blade. Violet lightning began to dance more ferociously along the edge of Weiguang.
With a deft flick of his wrist—a display of exquisite martial finesse—he used the sword's momentum to manipulate the arrow's shaft. Weiguang spun in a tight arc, and amidst a burst of violent sparks, Horitake swatted the arrow back the way it came.
"It's only polite to return what was sent," he muttered.
The arrow was hurled back toward its master with even greater force than before. Now imbued with violet lightning, it crackled with a piercing, lethal edge that threatened to tear through anything in its path.
But Horitake wasn't finished. In the same breath, he activated a form of the Heavenly Thunder Breathing:
"Heavenly Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap 108 Flashes!"
The words had barely left his lips when Weiguang became a blur of violet light. In a singular, explosive moment, Horitake unleashed a dizzying barrage of slashes, sending one hundred and eight high-speed lightning strikes screaming forward.
It was one of the few long-range techniques in his repertoire, and he used it with devastating intent.
The deflected assassination arrow led the charge, followed closely by a tidal wave of a hundred and eight violet arcs of energy. Together, they swarmed over the distant Riya like a celestial judgment.
Riya, who until now had maintained a calm, composed demeanor, felt his blood run cold.
The tables hadn't just turned; they had been flipped entirely.
A moment ago, Horitake had been the one facing a black wall of arrows. Now, Riya was the one staring down a horizon filled with one hundred and eight streaks of lethal violet lightning.
Terrified, Riya scrambled backward, his movements desperate as he tried to open the distance. He drew his bow with frantic speed, firing arrow after arrow in rapid succession. Each shot was packed with immense power, trailing white plumes of spiritual energy behind them.
The arrows collided with the violet lightning strikes in mid-air.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A series of violent explosions rocked the clearing, each collision illuminating the night in a spectacular, terrifying display of light and sound.
The battle had reached a fever pitch. Because neither could immediately close the gap—and because Horitake favored the blade over distance—the confrontation had devolved into a fierce, grinding stalemate of attrition.
While the thunder roared on one side of the forest, another battle was unfolding elsewhere.
Shinobu and Kanao were in hot pursuit of the demon.
The memory of stepping on that branch—only to realize it was the demon in disguise—burned in Shinobu's mind. She felt a prickling sense of humiliation, an insult to her skills as a Hashira.
Furious, Shinobu had made a silent vow: she would wash away this disgrace with the demon's blood.
It didn't matter how well this creature could shift its shape, how expertly it hid, or how clever its disguises were. Tonight, it was a dead thing walking.
The demon had taken the form of a nimble wild cat, weaving through the dense undergrowth and leaping between thickets with startling agility. It was a master of evasion.
Shinobu was a shadow on its heels, her movements graceful yet predatory. Kanao followed closely behind, her eyes locked onto their prey.
In terms of raw combat power, the demon wasn't particularly formidable, but its talent for escape and camouflage was second to none. If it managed to slip out of Shinobu's sight for even a second, finding it again in this vast forest would be an impossible task.
The darkness of the night and the tangled terrain of the woods were the demon's greatest allies.
Suddenly, the fleeing "cat" leaped with its hind legs, pulling a sharp, sudden turn to the left and vanishing into a thick cluster of bushes, its paws moving in a frantic blur.
That single, desperate maneuver caused the cat to disappear from Shinobu's direct line of sight.
Startled, Shinobu adjusted her course instantly, swinging left to maintain the chase.
But then, the impossible happened.
When Shinobu burst through the foliage where the cat should have been, the clearing was empty. The feline form had vanished into thin air.
Shinobu skidded to a halt, her boots digging into the dirt.
Kanao caught up a second later, her brow furrowed in confusion as she scanned the surrounding area. There was nothing but trees, shrubs, and the rustling of leaves. The cat was gone.
Kanao's heart sank. She turned to Shinobu, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Sister Shinobu... did it escape?"
Shinobu scanned the perimeter with a cold, analytical gaze. She slowly shook her head.
"No."
Her voice was low, carrying a dangerous edge. "That thing is nimble, but it isn't fast enough to outrun us in a straight sprint. We were right on its tail. It couldn't have just disappeared into the distance in a heartbeat."
She tightened her grip on her stinger-like blade.
"There is only one explanation: it has transformed again. It's wearing a new disguise, hiding in plain sight. It's right here... somewhere close to us."
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