Shirou Emiya — Doesn't Want to Work Overtime!

Shirou's use of Breathing Techniques wasn't yet as polished as Tanjirou's—he couldn't hold his breath and maintain perfect form at the same time.

But his version of Breathing was built upon the flow of his own magical circuits. Rather than "Sword Breathing," it was more accurate to call it "Breathing of the Magic Circuits."

Unlike the other members of the Demon Slayer Corps, who relied primarily on stamina, Shirou's Breathing drew on his prana. Because of that, the power of his techniques was a bit greater than standard forms.

And for this same reason, even when he was completely unable to breathe, Shirou could still unleash his Breathing Techniques.

The oppressive force that had pressed in around him disappeared the instant he swung his blade.

Blades of wind, pale and concentrated, shimmered along the crimson nichirin sword.

Shraaak!

Both Rengoku Kyōjurō's and Shirou's blades bit deep into her neck.

Shirou felt, as the blade drove deeper, its speed began to slow dramatically. Before he'd even made it halfway, he couldn't move it any farther.

So that's why Rengoku insisted we strike at the same time. Only this way can we sever her neck…

"Ah… AAAAH!"

Sensing the threat of death, she began to shriek, eyes streaming with tears.

But just as their blades were about to meet—

Kaori's head suddenly leapt upward, and the area of her neck they'd been cutting transformed instantly into a length of pink silk.

With so much of their force absorbed, the blades could no longer cut through something so soft!

"Dodge!" Rengoku shouted.

Pink sashes erupted from her body, lashing in all directions with blade-like sharpness, cutting the air from every angle.

"[Blood Demon Art: Eight-Layered Obi Slash]!"

The surrounding buildings were instantly shredded, collapsing into piles of debris and rubble.

If they hadn't evacuated the residents earlier, this place would be running with blood.

That attack was nearly at the level of an Upper Moon.

"I can't believe… she really pulled it off."

Not far away, hidden beneath the earth, Daki watched with rare shock on her face.

Before Muzan left, he had told her to seek out nearby demons with blood demon arts, take some of their flesh as well as her own, and feed them to Asakusa Kaori.

She had no idea what Muzan intended, but if it was his command, she followed it.

Now she understood Muzan's plan.

Demons devoured each other all the time, but the only real difference was how much of Muzan's blood they could gain—there was no rule that eating another demon granted their powers.

If that were the case, Muzan would have long since created countless demons with blood demon arts and set them loose to consume each other.

But should a demon ever appear who could acquire other demons' blood demon arts by eating them, that would be enough to match the Upper Moons.

She couldn't even imagine how powerful a demon with every Upper Moon's blood demon art would be.

So this is a demon-eater… No wonder the Upper Moons once insisted on eradicating them.

If left unchecked, Daki realized, Kaori might even reach Muzan's own level someday.

After all, she'd consumed a piece of Muzan's flesh too.

But all of this was only a possibility. To ascend to the Upper Moons, you needed more than blood demon arts—you needed experience, instincts, and skill.

And there was no real worry about Kaori threatening Muzan; those who possessed his blood were forever under his control. Not everyone was named Nezuko or Tamayo—it was nearly impossible to break free of Muzan's will.

Cough! Cough!

"You alright, Shirou?" Rengoku set Shirou down at his side, checking him for injuries.

Shirou shook his head, still shaken. "I'm okay."

At that range, Shirou had barely had time to react. He remembered only a flash of white fabric—and the next thing he knew, he'd been whisked away under Rengoku's arm.

Coming to his senses, he saw the deep, bloody wound across Rengoku's chest.

Shirou could see the muscle and flesh beneath, blood streaming out.

But the bleeding only lasted a few seconds before it stopped.

"Breathing techniques can effectively slow blood loss."

Shirou nodded, still a bit dazed, eyes full of gratitude and worry.

Rengoku risked himself to save me…

He gripped his nichirin blade tighter, self-reproach twisting in his gut.

Kaori, of course, gave them no time to regroup.

Pink sashes burst upward, slashing around Shirou and Rengoku, swirling like blades trying to entangle and slice them apart.

But now that the bizarre force-absorbing black snakes were gone, this kind of attack—against a Hashira—was almost meaningless.

"[Flame Breathing, Fifth Form: Flame Tiger]!"

Rengoku lunged forward, unleashing a roaring slash like a burning tiger. The storm of sashes shattered in an instant.

This was his third time standing before Kaori.

His blade shone with soft crimson light—he didn't hesitate for even a moment as he brought it down toward her neck.

But a flash of blue-green light erupted from Kaori's body. In an instant, she leapt back dozens of meters, her speed suddenly tripling.

But no matter how fast she ran, these weren't truly her own powers.

Even if she possessed blood demon arts to rival the Upper Moons, that didn't mean she had the Upper Moons' battle sense.

She could feel Rengoku's nichirin blade sink straight to the middle of her neck.

"[Sword Breathing—Flame Style: Unknowing Fire]!"

A wave of scorching wind circled Shirou, clinging to the edge of his blade.

There were no visible flames, but the heat was overwhelming.

On the rooftops earlier, Shirou had noticed the nichirin sword Rengoku carried.

Driven by curiosity—and his frustration at being stuck with Breathing—he'd projected a copy when he went to help evacuate civilians and experimented with Flame Breathing.

A crimson arc flashed.

Kaori's head fell in a single, clean stroke.

"Tha—thank you…"