Tachibana Kyūjō took a deep breath.

Calmly, he reset the rhythm of his Thunder Breathing.

Then, with lightning still dancing across his Nichirin Blade, he surged forward.

No hesitation.

The two long blades collided once more in a fierce burst that split the air like thunder cracking across the night sky.

"Thunder Breathing, Fourth Form: Distant Thunder – Modified Version: Lightning Flash of the Rushing Star!"

As soon as their swords met, a burst of electricity surged from Kyūjō's Nichirin Blade and crawled down the twisted metal of Kyokokukamusari—the grotesque Demon Blade gripped by Kokushibō.

The shock hit without warning.

Kokushibō's pupils contracted sharply, his body freezing for a fraction of a second.

But Kyūjō didn't aim for his neck.

He knew better.

A demon of Kokushibō's caliber wouldn't be taken down that easily. A single jolt of electricity might disrupt him for a second, maybe two—but it wasn't enough to break through.

And the neck—every demon's most guarded weakness—wasn't something you could reach without the perfect setup.

That jolt was just the beginning.

With his right hand, Kyūjō deflected Kyokokukamusari—and with the speed of a lightning strike, his left hand reached for the second blade at his waist.

Zetsuaku—the heirloom of his bloodline.

The Blade of Justice.

In a flash, it was drawn—and wrapped in searing blue lightning.

"Thunder Breathing, Eighth Form: Sword of the Thunder God!"

With all his might, Kyūjō plunged the blade straight into Kokushibō's chest.

It pierced through, clean, erupting from the demon's back.

A high-voltage current surged through the demon's lungs and tore through his nervous system.

Kokushibō, who had just begun recovering from the earlier paralysis, froze again.

His vision dimmed.

His keen gaze dulled.

That second lightning-charged blade didn't just paralyze him—it was aiming for something far more precise.

Kyūjō was targeting the lungs.

He wasn't just trying to deal damage—he was cutting off the demon's Moon Breathing at the source.

Kokushibō tried to yank the blade from his chest—but Kyūjō didn't give him even a second.

Strike after strike poured out like a furious thunderstorm.

He pressed in, relentlessly.

"Thunder Breathing – Sixth Form: Rumble and Flash – Modified Version: Lightning Rampage!"

Kyūjō spun his Nichirin Blade in a wild arc, power coursing through the metal.

A thunderous shockwave exploded outward—blasting apart Kyokokukamusari in Kokushibō's hands!

In that single instant, the demon's defenses crumbled.

Kyūjō drew a long breath.

His chest expanded as he sheathed his blade.

And then—he unleashed it in a lightning-fast slash.

"Thunder Breathing – First Form: Thunderclap and Flash – Modified Version: Swallow Reversal Slash!"

"Got you," he whispered.

But the voice that answered…

…came from Kokushibō.

"Caught me, have you?" the demon murmured—his tone calm, yet strangely pleased.

A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Then, without warning—Zetsuaku, still embedded in his chest, shattered.

The fragments exploded outward.

Kyūjō's eyes narrowed.

He twisted, evading the scattered shards midair—but even as he did, his sword kept slicing toward Kokushibō's neck.

He was committed.

But then—

Kyokokukamusari was back.

Fully regenerated. Whole. As if it had never broken.

And Kokushibō's stance was already shifting.

"Moon Breathing – Sixteenth Form: Moonbow, Half Moon!"

The demon didn't dodge.

He swung upward from below, launching a counterattack that aimed to trade his life for Kyūjō's.

Watching that madness unfold, Kyūjō sighed inwardly.

"That damned sword… regenerates too fast."

And Kokushibō's body—

Was just too tough.

Even now, Kyūjō couldn't sever his head in a single strike.

Even if he were to sacrifice his life… he wouldn't make it in time.

He had no choice.

He pulled back.

Used the last of his strength to block the demon's incoming blow—

The impact blasted him away.

Pain exploded in his gut.

He skidded across the battlefield, a massive gash now carved across his abdomen.

His momentum finally halted, Kyūjō gritted his teeth.

"I thought I had a chance…"

But the truth was brutal.

Kokushibō might've lost access to Moon Breathing for now,

…but the power of his demonic blood still gave him unnatural strength.

Strength enough to break through Kyūjō's final strike.

And crush him in return.

"Haah… haah…"

Kyūjō gasped for breath.

The light in his eyes was dimming.

He pressed his hand to his stomach, holding back the torn muscle—keeping his insides from spilling out.

Tightening his grip, he forced the bleeding to slow.

His mind refused to shut down.

And his face… remained calm.

He raised his sword once more.

Across from him, Kokushibō watched in silence.

Then, with solemn respect—he nodded.

"…In more than three centuries, you are the first to push me this far."

"A swordsman like you… has every right to be proud."

And then Kokushibō moved.

Faster than sound.

"Moon Breathing – First Form: Dark Moon, Evening Palace!"

"Moon Breathing – Third Form: Loathsome Moon, Chains!"

"Moon Breathing – Tenth Form: Drilling Slashes, Moon Through Bamboo Leaves!"

"Moon Breathing – Fourteenth Form: Catastrophe, Tenman Crescent Moon!"

His blade spun in brutal arcs—carving glowing half-moons through the air.

An illusion of death, a whirlwind of slashes, a storm of blades aimed to consume Kyūjō whole.

"H-hah…"

Still wheezing, Kyūjō kept his breathing rhythm intact.

Every ounce of remaining power was channeled into maintaining his Thunder Breathing.

But his body was failing him.

With a gaping wound, his speed dropped sharply.

The demon's slashes found him again and again—

Wounds tore open across his chest, shoulders, and back.

Blood sprayed.

But Kyūjō didn't fall.

He stood.

Facing death, head-on.

"Looks like… this is it for me."

"I wonder if I'll get another chance at reincarnation…"

His thoughts wandered, flashing through memories of everything he'd done in this world.

"I changed a lot of things… but did it really shift the fate of this world?"

"Does any of it still matter… now that I'm out of moves?"

Then came another thought.

Why is it…

That humans, in this world—beings so much weaker than demons in every way—

still managed to defeat them?

Power. Speed. Regeneration. Immortality.

Humans had none of those advantages.

And yet…

The Demon Slayers still fought.

Even without arms or legs. Even at death's door.

They raised their swords and charged forward.

And in that moment—

Kyūjō understood.

This battle… had never been just about physical strength.

It was a war of wills.

Demons may have power.

But humans… had something deeper.

The unyielding will to never stop fighting.

Kyūjō tightened his grip on his sword.

He was the Thunder Hashira—the strongest of them all.

What right did he have to give up?

As long as he still drew breath—he hadn't lost.

"Thunder Breathing – Third Form: Thunder Swarm – Modified Version: Sky-Slashing Lightning Blast!"

Lightning erupted once again, surging in time with his breath.

And so—Tachibana Kyūjō,

The True Hashira—

—struck back.

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