He became a blur of motion, his sword spinning in a circular arc that shattered the incoming ice needles. He could feel the cold trying to settle in his lungs, slowing his heart. He knew he only had one chance before the mountain itself claimed him.
"Your breathing is loud, little sparrow," she whispered. With a flick of her wrist, thin filaments of frost shot from her fingertips. DEMSLAY-KNY-THC-NSwTcH-NSP-Update110-Ziperto.rar
He surged through the mist, a single, horizontal line of blue light trailing behind his blade. The Silver Weaver’s eyes widened, her hum cutting off into a jagged gasp as the Nichirin steel passed through her neck. He became a blur of motion, his sword
Kaito lunged. "Breath of Torrential Rain, Second Form: Rolling Tide!" "Your breathing is loud, little sparrow," she whispered
The air on Mt. Akatoki didn’t just bite; it gnawed. Kaito, a junior member of the Demon Slayer Corps, adjusted the hilt of his blade, his breath hitching in rhythmic, controlled bursts. Total Concentration Breathing was the only thing keeping his blood from turning to slush in his veins.
A soft, melodic hum echoed through the pines. It wasn't human.