Shi Hanfeng’s words, already laced with mockery, completely ignited everyone’s emotions after being translated by Koyori Giyuu, the master of speaking.
The air in the room instantly tightened.
The atmosphere, which had relaxed slightly due to the Dust Song Pot’s marvel, plummeted back to freezing point.
The smile on Sound Hashira Tengen Uzui’s face faded.
He raised his hand, fingers unconsciously touching the largest diamond on his hairband. The cool, smooth sensation helped him regain composure.
His voice was lower than usual, devoid of its usual deliberate flamboyance.
“Oh my… Those words really aren’t the least bit glamorous, huh? Though you defeated the Flower Hashira, a pillar’s strength isn’t something that can be denied with mere words.”
With that, he spread his legs slightly, arms dropping into a combat stance at his sides. The earrings on his ears tinkled softly—clearly ready to strike at any moment.
Wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa’s reaction was the most direct.
He let out a cold laugh, veins bulging on his forehead. He dropped his crossed arms and clenched his fists so tightly that his nails nearly dug into his palms.
“There’s a limit to looking down on people! Do you think killing a few weak demons and catching the Flower Hashira’s blade is enough to trample us all underfoot? The Demon Slayer Corps’ Hashira aren’t just talk!”
He stepped forward, the wooden floor creaking beneath him, his eyes fierce as if ready to pounce and tear apart.
Water Hashira Koyori Giyuu said nothing, simply watching Shi Hanfeng.
A faint ripple flashed across his usually emotionless eyes, like a calm lake surface ruffled by wind. The hand resting on his knee subtly shifted, moving closer to the hilt of his blade.
As for Kochou Kanae, the usual gentle smile on her face, like spring rain, had completely disappeared.
Kochou Kanae took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in her heart.
Sanemi Shinazugawa’s earlier “defeated the Flower Hashira” already made her uncomfortable. Now, being mocked in public—no matter how good her temper, she couldn’t endure it.
Enough!
The amethyst glow in her eyes held no laughter, only the determination to prove herself.
She inhaled softly, her right hand silently pressing on the hilt of the Butterfly Blade’s Nichirin handle.
She accepted yesterday’s crushing defeat—that was a spar.
But if that meant total denial, she couldn’t accept it.
Gyomei Himejima pressed his palms together, but the usual compassion was gone from his face, replaced by solemnity in his gaze.
He stood up slowly, his towering figure imposing within the room, his deep voice echoing in the meeting hall.
“This monk admits sir’s strength is extraordinary, but the Demon Slayer Corps’ Hashira are by no means weaklings. If sir truly wishes to prove himself, this monk is willing to accept the challenge.”
Shi Hanfeng looked at the impassioned Hashira before him, a smile of uncertain meaning curling at his lips.
Just as planned.
He’d long anticipated this reaction.
These warriors, who had fought on the front lines against demons for years, had a pride ingrained in their bones—how could they easily accept total denial?
He turned to look at the always-silent Kagaya Ubuyashiki.
“Kagaya-dono, it seems the Hashira are dissatisfied. How about this—I battle all the Hashira at once, to convince everyone. What do you think?”
Kagaya Ubuyashiki’s pale, frail face revealed little emotion, but a gleam of calculation flickered in his eyes.
He coughed lightly, covering his mouth with a white handkerchief.
“Since you wish it, Qingyuan-dono, how could I refuse?”
He understood the other’s intent.
Displaying the Dust Song Pot was a gesture of sincerity—now proposing to fight many alone was a show of strength, to seize absolute initiative.
The other party wanted the Demon Slayer Corps to cooperate with him—not as equals.
But so what?
The Ubuyashiki Clan and the Demon Slayer Corps had only one wish spanning centuries.
To slay Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
If the person before him truly had the ability, what did it matter to yield command?
If it could end the demons, he would risk the entire Ubuyashiki for it.
Now, perhaps, this was the best chance to end it all.
He turned slightly, quietly instructing the Yin members standing by his side, then addressed the others.
“The Ubuyashiki estate does have some spacious, secluded mountains that could serve for sparring. It would also let me witness the techniques from across the sea. However, I hope no one gets hurt.”
Shi Hanfeng neither agreed nor disagreed, but nodded slightly in assent.
The carriage rattled along, carrying everyone to a clearing in the mountains far from human habitation.
The area was wide and solid, surrounded by trees—indeed, a perfect place for an all-out fight.
Without a word, five figures silently fanned out, encircling Shi Hanfeng at the center.
Well, now it’s not Giyuu-in-the-middle, but Qingyuan-action.
Stone Hashira Gyomei Himejima moved first.
“Forgive me!”
He roared, arms surging with power, and the Meteor Hammer, whistling, smashed toward Shi Hanfeng.
This blow was powerful enough to ripple the air—if it hit, even rock would shatter instantly.
There was no showmanship here, only pure force and indomitable will, as if to crush all before him.
He held nothing back. Facing an opponent who could defeat the Flower Hashira, holding back would be the greatest disrespect.
The Hashira around them held their breath.
They all knew how terrifying Stone Hashira’s strength was.
This attack was not something anyone could block head-on.
Yet, the scene that followed left everyone stunned.
Shi Hanfeng, faced with the overwhelming blow, showed no intention of dodging.
He simply raised his right hand, grasped the Zanpakuto at his waist, and at the instant the Meteor Hammer was about to strike, drew his blade.
“Don’t—!”
Himejima’s mind screamed alarm, but the Meteor Hammer, carrying unstoppable momentum, could no longer be withdrawn.
He could almost foresee the next moment’s bone-shattering carnage.
“CLANG—!!!”
A deafening crash, far exceeding the clash of metal, exploded in the field!
A violent shockwave radiated from the two as its center, kicking up dust and rattling the nearby trees.
Everyone’s pupils shrank.
Shi Hanfeng still stood where he was, unmoving as a boulder.
He had used only his right hand, yet that unadorned Zanpakuto had firmly stopped the massive Meteor Hammer, larger than his own head.
Where blade met hammer, a red glow from overheated metal spread.
That speck of red crept across the Meteor Hammer.
Shi Hanfeng glanced at the now-reddened weapon.
Was this an accidental manifestation of the Hegemony Blade?
But the others paid no attention to the discolored Meteor Hammer, too shocked to process what had happened.
Blocking Stone Hashira’s blow head-on with a single blade?
Impossible for any human! Even Breathing Techniques couldn’t grant such absurd physical power!
“An overseas rogue? Now this is interesting.”
Sanemi Shinazugawa grinned fiercely.
But this was just the beginning.
“Don’t space out!”
Tengen Uzui shouted, his form darting forth like a specter.
Dual blades drawn, they traced brilliant arcs, their light like exploding fireworks, slashing toward Shi Hanfeng’s vital points from deadly angles.
“Sound Breathing—First Form: Blast!”
At almost the same moment, Koyori Giyuu’s Nichirin Blade stabbed silently forth, its sword light cold as flowing water, targeting the slightest gap left by the Meteor Hammer’s block.
“Water Breathing—Seventh Form: Ripple Thrust.”
Kochou Kanae’s figure danced like petals, her Nichirin Blade unleashing a dazzling storm of slashes like blooming plum branches, sealing off Shi Hanfeng’s avenues of escape.
“Flower Breathing—Second Form: Meikage Plum.”
Sanemi Shinazugawa charged with a roar, his Nichirin Blade tearing the air, wild wind pressure forming jagged edges along the blade, slicing mercilessly at Shi Hanfeng’s waist.
“Wind Breathing—Third Form: Gale Tree.”
The five Hashira’s joint assault, their techniques different yet perfectly coordinated, sealed all escape routes. The killing intent was so intense even Kagaya Ubuyashiki watching at the edge felt his breath catch.
Facing an assault that could annihilate even an Upper Moon Demon, Shi Hanfeng finally moved.
His steps shifted lightly, his body swaying like a willow in the wind—every movement fluid and effortless, yet always managing to evade every attack by the narrowest of margins.
Not a single strike landed.
The trajectory of life itself is truly mesmerizing.
This is far more useful than Transparent World.
“So fast!”
Tengen Uzui’s heart trembled. His speed was top-tier even among Hashira, yet he couldn’t keep up with his opponent at all.
He couldn’t even clearly see the movement—only a fleeting afterimage.
A fierce fighting spirit surged within. His eyes sharpened, rhythm shifting as he began to collect the other’s sounds.
“Score!”
He tried to analyze the movement pattern, to parse the rhythm.
But it was useless.
Shi Hanfeng’s figure flickered unpredictably, each movement perfectly slipping past every attack. Even the five blades couldn’t touch the hem of his robe.
He danced a graceful, dangerous waltz atop the edge of swords, moving leisurely yet untouchable.
Like the sound of waves—simple in rhythm, yet unstoppable.
One can alter a stream, but not the sea.
That is not a melody that can be rewritten.
“Hey, hey, isn’t this way over the top?!”
Tengen Uzui couldn’t help but complain, disbelief in his tone.
“Is this really human?”
“Dammit! Are you just going to dodge like a rat?!”
Sanemi Shinazugawa’s veins bulged with frustration. Striking nothing with all his might was suffocating.
“Dare to take a blow head-on?”
At those words, Shi Hanfeng’s steps paused—he finally stopped.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Come on, didn’t the value of catching the Meteor Hammer with my blade mean anything to you?
I’m dodging for your sake—if I fought head-on and couldn’t hold back, who would I cooperate with if I turned you into dead Hashira?
He sighed, as if helpless.
Still, setting aside his complaints, Shi Hanfeng no longer wished to continue evading under Sanemi Shinazugawa’s provocation.
He stopped and slowly turned to face the Hashira.
Alright—deep breath.
With his movement,
The next instant, a mountain-like pressure descended.
The air thickened, becoming almost tangible, crushing down upon everyone present.
“Urgh!”
Sanemi Shinazugawa bore the brunt, feeling as if ten thousand tons slammed into his back.
His knees buckled—he nearly collapsed, only managing to stay upright by plunging his Nichirin Blade into the ground. Cold sweat poured down, his teeth clenched.
Tengen Uzui’s graceful movements collapsed entirely, the score shattering. He felt as if thrown into the deep sea, each motion a struggle, breath growing labored—his composure vanishing for the first time.
Koyori Giyuu tried to remain steady, but the pressure was everywhere—like deep-sea pressure squeezing his organs, bones, nerves.
His sword hand trembled, and at last, a crack appeared on his icy facade.
Kochou Kanae’s Flower Breathing already placed heavy strain on her body; among the Hashira, her physical strength was the weakest.
Under this monstrous force, her graceful form crumbled—she leaned on her blade for support, gasping.
Across the field, only Gyomei Himejima still managed to stand.
Hands pressed together, veins bulging, face pale—he endured the crushing weight. Yet his gaze remained unyielding.
He tried to take a step, only to find his foot welded to the ground.
The Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps—each will honed to steel.
But no matter how strong, the limits of flesh and blood cannot be surpassed.
Before this all-encompassing, indiscriminate pressure, their bodies gave out first.
Shi Hanfeng stood quietly, watching the five struggle, drenched in sweat—as if he’d done nothing at all.
He felt like one of those villainous bosses in stories, crushing the protagonist’s team.
But there was no enmity here—and they couldn’t explode with new power.
With a thought, he withdrew the Psuedo-Spirit Pressure.
“Haa—Haa—”
The pressure vanished.
All five gasped as if fish returning to water, greedily sucking in air.
Kochou Kanae took several seconds before she could pull her Nichirin Blade from the ground.
Gyomei Himejima was the first to stand upright, hands pressed together, tears still on his face, yet filled with genuine respect.
“Amitabha, I concede. Qingyuan-dono’s strength is beyond our reach.”
He had seen it most clearly—the other had not fought seriously from start to finish, his weapon used only to block once.
That overwhelming pressure—like divine wrath—was unheard of.
To continue resisting would be foolish.
They were not enemies to begin with.
The stronger their ally, the greater the hope of slaying Yoriichi Tsugikuni—a blessing beyond compare.
The others said nothing, but their defiance was already washed away by absolute strength.
This was why Shi Hanfeng liked warriors.
See? With enough strength, persuasion becomes simple.
Shi Hanfeng clapped his hands, as if brushing away invisible dust.
His gaze passed over the variously stunned Hashira to Kagaya Ubuyashiki, who still sat at the edge, his spirit pressure carefully avoided.
The other’s health was poor—if the pressure had touched him and something happened, Shi Hanfeng would become the clown.
Kagaya’s face was still pale, but his eyes shone as if seeing the brightest dawn through a century of darkness.
“Now, can everyone calmly listen to my plan?”