Takumi Ranto deflected yet another cut from the young man, shifting the blade up with his own before coming down to slash across his entire torso. The Inumaki brought down the blade with the purple hilt to block a follow-up before drawing his secondary sword. Takumi's head snapped back to avoid the new blade from gouging out his eye.
While it did make the sword master's heart skip a beat, it also gave him a good look at the blade the young man had suddenly pulled out. It was significantly lower quality than his long blade, but still a fine weapon. Maybe even first grade.
The prodigy rushed him as Takumi took a step back. Both the boy's blades were mere flashes of silver, making it quite challenging to track based on speed alone. On top of that speed, the former clan head of the Inumaki clan wielded them in such a way that he formed an illusion of sorts.
He used the shorter blade to give Takumi the sense that his range was shorter than before, striking out with his longer master blade after he'd thought Takumi was lured into a false sense of security. And once Takumi saw through this trick, sure to deny the boy the satisfaction of cutting him for the first time, Isamu Inumaki deployed another rather underhanded move.
He could vary its reach by shifting between four grips on his long blade. The first was a hammer grip with his hand near the guard of the handle. This time, the second was in the same position but held in a handshake grip, giving the talented swordsman more reach.
Once Takumi got used to this position, Isamu let his hand fall towards the end of the handle, now swapping between the two holds with a few extra inches of reach. At these kinds of speeds, Takumi needed to dodge the slashes by a hair if he didn't want to be hit with the next, making these few inches differences between the four life or death.
Still, Takumi managed. How exactly? Well, simply put, he'd seen it all before. At the time of his deal with Kenjaku, the Second Void General was 113 years old. For 103 of those years, he'd wielded a sword in combat. So these things weren't new to Takumi, and any swordsman, dead or alive, would be hard pressed to find something he hadn't seen, adapted to, and defeated.
Suddenly, as these thoughts ran through Takumi's head, the long blade extended its reach by three extra inches just as Takumi was swaying his head back to dodge. His eyes widening, the older man activated his technique, causing the raindrops surrounding him to slam into his chest and knock him back a bit, narrowing trading out a severe wound for a small line across his left cheek.
He looked down as he flew back, catching a glimpse of the young man's sword handle. He was holding the end of the sword with the tips of his index and middle fingers. Sliding to a stop a few meters from the white haired man, Takumi smiled and let out a wheezing laugh, running his fingers across the first injury he'd suffered in a long time.
"That's new."
——
Isamu's eyes scanned the old swordsman for the hundredth time in the last minute. And for the first time, he'd seen something other than cold calculation and a slight sense of familiarity. For the first time, he was surprised by something Isamu did. For the first time, the Storming General wasn't in control.
Isamu pressed his advantage; his arms lashing out like steel whips, using his new technique in excess. The grip strength necessary for the style was tough to pull out of himself, but anything was possible with enough cursed energy.
Isamu was able to land three more small cuts on the older man in the following half minute. He hadn't gotten any faster; he'd just gotten trickier to read. He made sure that if his attacker dodged by too much, he'd just be dodging into another attack. Forcing him to dodge by small amounts every time. But with his reach constantly changing…
The older man now bled from his cheek, inner left thigh, a small cut in his right forearm, and a minor stab wound on his right shoulder. They were small, nearly inconsequential marks, but were a sign that Isamu was progressing towards victory. Takumi couldn't use the reverse cursed technique to heal his wounds like Isamu did, after all.
Pressing his perceived advantage further, Isamu rushed in. The best way to describe his fighting style would be to call it "abrupt." One second, he flowed between stances and slashes like water, and the next, he swapped between grips and guards as if he couldn't decide which he wanted to use.
All with the intent to make himself as hard to read as possible. Takumi, however, kept his trained eyes focused and his hands steady. After his fourth cut, Isamu didn't land another. Takumi regained that sense of confidence and control from earlier.
Isamu's slight, confident smirk was lost as he failed to land further hits. It seemed Takumi had adapted, somehow, Isamu would have to switch up his sword style in return. One of the good things about fighting a nearly immortal cursed spirit, such as the one he'd faced in Shibuya, was that you had plenty of time to practice work and progress techniques.
Isamu worked through a silky smooth sword technique comprising seven moves in total. He threw both swords behind his back on the fifth move before catching them in the opposite hand. He then continued the forms with the swapped blades. Surprise appeared on the older man's face as their deadly edges closed in.
Having dodged the previous attack on the assumption he'd have to dodge the shorter blade next, the positioning was less than ideal for preventing the longer blade from slicing him to bits. Falling back on his technique again, Takumi made the raindrops fall heavier on the blade than they were anyway. The blade slowed just long enough for Takumi to raise his in return and deflect it away.
Unfortunately for the old swordsman, Isamu's other blade slashed through the raindrops and cut deeply into Takumi's knee. Bringing the shorter blade around to follow up, that, too, was deflected away as the General made space between them.
The General's eyes scanned the young talent as he considered the move. He hadn't seen it before. Not because no one had thought of it, Takumi was sure, and the General himself had considered the skillful regripping of his blade to catch an opponent off guard before. But short of tossing his sword to the opposite hand, he'd never deployed it in battle.
Put simply, it was just too hard. No one he'd ever faced was skilled or crazy enough to try it. But somehow, this man had that skill. His hand-eye coordination was incredible, likely due to reverse-cursed technique, giving him a better idea of the layout of his own body. Smiling, the older man advanced as his new era rival took a step.
——
Isamu ducked a slash, juggling his swords between his hands while simultaneously keeping the way he gripped the blade ever changing. Turning and slicing, Saraswati was deflected while a follow-up from Maya was blocked before being turned away. Isamu again attacked with the special grade cursed tool before tossing Maya into the air.
Clashing twice more with Takumi, Isamu spun before jumping and flipping over a low horizontal slash from Takumi. While midair, Isamu kicked the airborne Maya with the tip of his foot. The short blade flew towards the old general like a bullet, the swordsman barely swaying back in time. On the way down, Isamu landed a deep, long slash inside Takmui's left forearm.
Landing facing away from the Storming General, Isamu twisted his body before striking the man directly in his abdomen with a powerful palm strike. Takmui slid across the wet asphalt for a few dozen yards before stopping, his right hand reaching up to his right eye. The socket bled profusely, what was left of Takmui's eye slowly growing cold as the raindrops washed away the gore. The shorter blade was now bloodied and stabbed into the asphalt between the two fighters.
It was impossible to read. Every move was unique, as Isamu never reused the same juggling pattern or technique. Sometimes, he'd hold both blades normally, while other times, Takumi wasn't even sure he was carrying a weapon. But then in the next moment, he was, and Takumi was now bleeding from a new wound. It was like his blades were invisible.
Now that he'd lost an eye and could only see a single blade at a time, the purple-eyed man's technique would become even more difficult to read. Something needed to change, and Takumi knew just the thing.
"Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't continue our spar with just my blade. Prepare yourself for the full brunt of my technique." The words were said without arrogance. It didn't sound like a threat to Isamu's ears but a simple, heartfelt warning, a suggestion. And as a sudden rumbling shook the city's foundations and yellow flashes of lightning streaked through the rain clouds, he followed the man's advice.
"New Shadow Style: Simple Domain." The thunder intensified as the city was filled with rays of yellow light every few seconds. The smell of burnt toast filled Isamu's nose as the man raised his blade to the sky, its edge facing the clouds.
"Maximum Technique: Rainami!!" One moment, the older man stood many yards from Isamu, his blade not even facing in his direction. The next, the blade was surrounded by yellow lightning, a bolt of heaven's wrath trailing behind it as it struck the blade mid-swing. The steel quickly approached Isamu's neck in a horizontal cut. The man, now standing mere feet from Isamu, wore a calm, peaceful face, as if the complete opposite of his blade.
Time seemed to come to a standstill as Isamu's eyes examined the blade; he knew he only had a fraction of a second to react. He also knew he couldn't dodge it or heal the damage it inflicted. It would behead him instantly if he didn't meet it head-on. Isamu focused entirely on Saraswati and his simple domain.
He forced the simple domain to bend to his will as he channeled an immense amount of cursed energy into Saraswati. He masterfully wrapped the simple domain around Saraswati and Saraswati alone while activating Domain Amplification. He wrapped the essence of that technique around Saraswati, too. Simultaneously, he used the method ingrained into Saraswati to command the two techniques even deeper.
Isamu's lips muttered a chant as the binding vow restricting his speech kicked in to bring every technique to another level. Even with every tool at Isamu's disposal, he knew the resulting slash wouldn't be enough to win a clash of swords, let alone kill the Second most powerful Void General.
Perhaps Isamu shouldn't have played with the General by refusing to use his technique. Maybe his avarice would be the death of him this time. It seemed this time, his selfishness would be the death of him. But, no, he wouldn't let it be.
Just as Isamu swung his sword and met the lightning blade of the General, something impossible happened. His blade and its slight white aura disappeared, as if it'd become imperceptible to the human eye as space distorted. Yet there were no flashes of black. Isamu felt no resistance as he cut through the lightning blade and its wielder. As if there wasn't anything in the path of his now invisible blade. Finally, Isamu finished his chant, the new technique dedicated to the one who'd pushed him to evolve it.
"New Shadow Style: Void Cutter."