[This is bad...]
Clearly, this was a chain of combined attacks. First, using unavoidable dense slashes to force Tanjuro into defense, locking his position, then using even more ferocious directional slashes to strike him with precision.
[This is really...]
Sun Breathing: Eleventh Form—Hinokami Kagura: Dance!
Exhaling a breath of orange-yellow flame, the blade igniting with dragon-shaped fire, Tanjuro met the incoming full moon slash head-on.
Boom!
In the next instant, the red fire dragon and purple full moon crashed together violently.
The moment red and purple intertwined and merged, those tiny crescent moons cut numerous fine bloody marks on Tanjuro's arms and cheeks.
His arms numb from the impact, after successfully blocking the first full moon, the fire dragon surrounding Tanjuro had already been significantly weakened.
Without giving him the slightest moment to breathe, the second full moon was already rushing toward him.
Tanjuro swung his blade with all his might once more, sending the fire dragon behind him slashing forward.
Boom!
Another violent collision. While blocking the second full moon, the red fire dragon also completely dissipated.
Then, the third full moon arrived.
The full moon carrying countless crescent moons was already rushing before his eyes, but Tanjuro was already exhausted.
Facing this final full moon slash, his breathing frequency at its limit, his arms trembling from fatigue, ignoring the intense pain from his lungs, he gritted his teeth and used his last ounce of strength to thrust his Nichirin Blade forward.
Sun Breathing: Seventh Form—Flame Dance!
Instantly, spiral-shaped flames shot forward like a needle tip, colliding with the incoming full moon slash.
After a moment of delay, the full moon exploded with a thunderous roar.
Countless crescent moons burst in all directions, leaving numerous dense wounds of varying depths across Tanjuro's body.
"*Cough!*"
[Finally... blocked it...]
Tanjuro half-knelt on the ground, powerless, violently spitting out a mouthful of blood.
With each rise and fall of his chest, the wounds across his body continuously oozed blood.
However, Michikatsu did not stop there.
He still stood there, simply swinging the blade in his hand once more.
Moon Breathing: Fourteenth Form—Catastrophe: Tenman Crescent Moon!
With his movement, countless massive moon slashes interwove and flew forward, sweeping away everything before him like a raging tempest.
In an instant, all remaining stone pillars within the dojo collapsed. Amidst the thunderous roar, these dense crescent moons completely shattered the wall on one side of the dojo, vanishing into the boundless darkness outside.
But this wasn't over.
Moon Breathing: Sixteenth Form—Moonbow: Half Moon!
With another swing of Michikatsu's blade, countless gigantic moon slashes fell from the sky like a tornado, pulverizing the ground of this dojo!
Coordinating with the earlier Fourteenth Form slashes, at this moment, within the entire dojo—whether in the sky above or the ground below, front or back, left or right—everywhere were moon slashes carrying countless crescent moons!
They rampaged and destroyed wantonly within this space. Under such an all-encompassing, ferocious assault, Tanjuro within it was like a small boat capsized in a stormy sea, completely powerless to resist.
Moon Breathing: Ninth Form—Descending Moon: Multiple Faces!
Moon Breathing: Tenth Form—Drilling Slashes: Full Moon!
Moon Breathing: Fourteenth Form...
One technique after another was continuously unleashed by Michikatsu. Just as the entire dojo was about to be completely destroyed, he finally stopped.
But this wasn't because Michikatsu cherished this dojo. It was because Tanjuro had finally fallen.
"Truly magnificent."
Finally lowering the irregular blade in his hand, Michikatsu looked from afar at Tanjuro, who had already lost an arm, half-kneeling on the ground and spitting blood, his mouth not stinting in praise.
"In the past, never has a Demon Slayer made me use techniques beyond the Sixth Form.
Tanjuro, yet you were able to hold out for so long under my assault before falling. Truly outstanding.
The world's heroes are indeed like carps crossing the river—if we were both human, I fear I might not even match you."
Tanjuro was undoubtedly a genius.
In the past, when Michikatsu encountered such a genius, he would inevitably feel a pang of jealousy.
But by now, he had long since let go.
Above high mountains are even higher mountains; at the end of the martial path is yet another end.
He might never catch up to Yoriichi in his lifetime, but so what?
In the past, in his pursuit of Yoriichi, he had abandoned and betrayed too many people by his side.
Among them, some had long since passed away, and he could never see them again.
Some still remained by his side, choosing to forgive and guide him.
At some point, Michikatsu suddenly realized that even if he couldn't become the strongest warrior, in the eyes of those around him, he was still that unique and irreplaceable existence.
His father was indeed utilitarian, his mother was indeed biased, his younger brother was indeed obtuse—always unintentionally hurting his heart.
But at the same time, he now had a younger sister who, though deeply hurt by him in the past, could be immediately pacified with a sincere apology. He had a wife who quietly accompanied him at all times, and a pair of energetic disciples who respected him as they would a father.
His life now was already incomparably fulfilling and satisfying.
So, what meaning was there in continuing to chase after that so-called strongest?
Would he, like in the past, for this illusory obsession, hurt all these people who deeply loved him all over again?
That would truly be exhausting.
"Kamado Tanjuro, do you have any last wishes?"
Collecting his thoughts, Michikatsu looked once more at Tanjuro before him.
"If it is within my ability, I can do my best to fulfill them for you."
"Is this... pity?"
"No, it is respect."
Looking down at Tanjuro kneeling on the ground, completely devoid of fighting strength, Michikatsu said in a deep voice:
"Though we are enemies, out of respect for a strong one who fought to the very end, I cannot simply watch you die here in such a crude manner.
So, if there are still unfinished matters in your heart, or people you wish to entrust, you may tell me."
[People I wish to entrust...]
Hearing this, in a daze, Tanjuro thought of his wife and children.
Tonight, he had indeed done his best. Unfortunately, the demon before him was simply not an existence that could be defeated alone.
If the Stone Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, or perhaps other Hashira could come to assist him, he might indeed have had a certain probability of defeating this demon.
But by himself, he truly couldn't do it.
Death was approaching with the flow of blood. His vision gradually blurring, at this final moment of his life, Tanjuro only weakly spoke:
"My wife and children..."