"Yoizumi-nii is... you need to be careful!"
Tokito Muichiro crouched low, his ill-fitting clothes and sleeves hiding his entire arm, making it impossible to discern his attack range.
Now, Muichiro could freely use his Mark; the red mist cloud pattern gradually appeared on his face.
His mint-green eyes gleamed with excitement at facing a strong opponent.
Mist Breathing Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash.
He was the first to use the Fourth Form to rush towards Yoizumi, his flowing slashes astonishingly fast, reaching Yoizumi's eyes in the blink of an eye.
Yoizumi easily parried Muichiro's attack from bottom to top with his nichirin blade held in both hands.
Muichiro, of course, did not think it would be that simple. The moment his nichirin blade was parried, he changed his grip, twisting his body with the sword's momentum, using the strength of his waist and abdomen.
Mist Breathing Second Form: Eight-Layered Mist!
The swirling mist created by his blade enveloped the area, the sound of it cutting through the air, he hacked and slashed with all his might.
What he had to do now was to prevent Yoizumi from using his sword forms!
As long as he wasn't affected by the bone-chilling snow, Muichiro was confident he could defeat Yoizumi.
No one loses all the time; there's always a time to win.
All of Muichiro's previous defeats would accumulate into the next battle, learning from his mistakes, only to perform better.
A confident smile played on his lips; the 14-year-old boy was in his prime.
Understanding Muichiro's intention, Yoizumi defended while watching for his openings; the snowy sword qi merged with the illusory mist, making it hard to distinguish.
"Damn it, Tokito has gotten stronger," Sanemi Shinazugawa grumbled, pounding his fist on a stone pillar, unwilling to accept it.
"It can't be helped, the difference between having a Mark and not having one is too great," Iguro Obanai sighed softly, his arms tightening around himself, the veins on the back of his hands clearly visible.
The knuckles of Sanemi Shinazugawa's clenched fist made a crisp "click" sound. With a grim face, he gritted his teeth and pursed his lips. No matter what means he had to use, he would activate his Mark!
He had to become stronger, even if it meant paying a huge price!
Muichiro's attack continued, giving Yoizumi no chance to breathe.
His sword movements were fast and elusive. Yoizumi's blue eyes intently watched his actions; Muichiro's breathing was becoming ragged.
He was still too young, after all, and his stamina wouldn't last long. Muichiro himself noticed this, yet he continued to urge his weary arms.
Mist Breathing Fifth Form: Sea of Cloud Mist!
A large amount of air rushed into his lungs, and mist clouds spread, enveloping both of them. Yoizumi, whose vision was obscured, began to retreat, as tiny slashes fell like high-speed rain.
Muichiro pressed on, giving Yoizumi no space to unleash his sword strikes.
Dodging the blade that barely grazed his cheek by tilting his head, Yoizumi launched a counterattack the moment Muichiro took a breath!
His sword swings were erratic and incredibly fast, achieving both speed and surprisingly great power. Yoizumi appeared calm and composed, seemingly lightly swinging his nichirin blade, but only Muichiro, who received all the attacks, knew that his tiger's mouth and arms were numb from the shock.
Snow Breathing Fourth Form: Wind-Ravaged Blizard.
The almost transparent light blue snowflake Mark on Yoizumi's hand was particularly conspicuous. The fine snow pouring from his nichirin blade rained down entirely on Muichiro.
That numbness was back again!
Muichiro tried hard to ignore his limbs, which were beginning to stiffen. His exhaled breaths turned into white mist, his eyes were dry and parched from the cold, and his long eyelashes were covered with a layer of frost.
He couldn't just stand by and do nothing!
Muichiro understood that if this continued, his body would only become more numb until he couldn't move at all.
He had to get his body warm!
Mist Breathing Seventh Form: Obscuring Clouds.
A large amount of mist and clouds generated by his movements permeated the surroundings, as if the entire area was enveloped in thick fog. As the center of the encirclement, Yoizumi showed no panic, his blue eyes tracking Muichiro's high-speed movements.
Under intense exertion, his frozen body gradually warmed up. Muichiro was looking for an opportunity, an opportunity to win with a single strike!
?!
A cold, icy wind suddenly swept through, its biting chill almost making Muichiro's movements halt. The area, previously filled with mist and clouds, was instantly covered in ice and snow.
In a daze, Muichiro thought he was in a snowfield, a vast expanse of white, with only the sound of falling snow in the silent surroundings.
What was this?
He stood rooted to the spot, his mind perfectly clear, every part of his body clearly perceptible, yet he couldn't even lift a finger. He could only watch helplessly as the accumulating snow gradually spread from his ankles.
It was as if only his time had been frozen.
The snow buried his waist...
His neck... until he couldn't breathe.
His body completely lost all sensation.
When he came to, he was already on his knees, his entire body in intense pain, his limbs sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath in agony.
His fingers, gripping the hilt of his nichirin blade, trembled. The pain was bone-chilling, as if his body had been frozen and then shattered, spreading through every nerve.
Muichiro's eyes widened, staring at the ground in disbelief.
He lost?
He was defeated in just an instant?!
He didn't even realize what had happened before he lost the strength to stand.
What exactly was going on?
Yoizumi had his back to Muichiro, his chest rising and falling noticeably faster. His usually relaxed brows were slightly furrowed, and as he raised his right-hand nichirin blade, there were faint signs of soreness in his arm muscles.
Snow Breathing Sixth Form: Pure White Snow.
Concentrating all the strength in his body, it was as if only a vast expanse of white existed in the world. Time seemed to stand still, with only countless snowflakes falling freely from the sky, as if one were in another world of ice and snow. After using it, Yoizumi's body would bear a huge load.
Even a demon's body couldn't negate this side effect?
Most of his body's strength was suddenly drained. This was because Yoizumi held back; otherwise, Muichiro would have died just now.
It seems this move can only be used when there's an absolute certainty of killing the opponent and leaving no lingering problems.
What's happening?
Sanemi and Obanai stared in surprise at Muichiro, who had collapsed without warning, his obvious pained expression not appearing fake.
Iguro Obanai's forehead trickled with fine sweat as he asked Shinazugawa beside him.
"Did you see it?"
"...I didn't see anything," Shinazugawa said with difficulty after a moment of silence.
What kind of sword form was this, exactly?
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