Suzune's breathing was ragged, her blade cracked, her stance faltering. Blood soaked her sleeve, dripping from her chin. But she stood—still stood—before the six Eclipse Moons, surrounded by the corpses of over a hundred demons.
For five hours, she fought.
And she refused to fall.
Her green parasol lay broken behind her. Her kimono, once elegant, was now torn and scorched. Cuts lined her arms, legs, face. And yet—she kept slashing.
They came at her in waves. Some moved like shadows, some struck like thunder. Their Blood Demon Arts warped the battlefield. Time, fear, illusions, fire, and decay—she had fought through it all.
Her blade gleamed pink and red. Her spirit would not yield.
Until…
"Now…" she whispered, collapsing to one knee, "I'll give everything."
Her hand trembled as she gripped the hilt.
Mystic Breathing – Final Form: Sakura Flare.
A storm of brilliant pink light exploded from her blade, rising like a column of divine fire. Cherry blossoms, glowing like embers, surged with each movement. The air became radiant. The earth beneath her shattered.
She moved faster than light, her blade tracing radiant arcs through the army's remnants. In seconds, the last of the 100 demons were gone—burned away, shredded, obliterated.
And still… the Eclipse Moons stood.
Unharmed.
Getsugan's golden eyes blinked slowly.
"Interesting."
Yakusha laughed, voice echoing like madness.
"Not bad. Now it's my turn—"
Before he could act, Kuragami was already behind her. She was too tired. Too drained.
Shunk.
His rusted crescent blade pierced straight through her chest.
She gasped. Her sword fell from her hand. Blood trickled from her mouth. Her knees buckled.
She fell.
Kuragami grinned, lifting his scythe again.
"Let me finish your sorrow—"
But before the blade fell—
It stopped.
A radiant shield of red spider lilies erupted from the ground, wrapping around her like a barrier of flame and sorrow.
The Eclipse Moons froze.
From the edge of the crimson haze…
A shadow emerged.
A black conical hat. A flowing black cape. A dark violet Haori patterned with golden dragons that shimmered in the dying light.
And those violet eyes—burning with grief and rage.
Sahiru.
The Shadow of Deception had arrived.