"I like to draw these disgusting broken paintings so much... Go to **** and paint slowly!"

No longer giving this strange man any chance, Mochizuki Che turned into an afterimage, dodged behind the man, and his dark right arm penetrated from the opponent's back to his chest.

"Disgusting?! It seems that you, like those vulgar people, don't know how to appreciate real art..."

Letting Mochizuki's arm pass through his body, the man's head turned 180 degrees strangely, and his six big eyes that were split like chrysanthemums stared at him nervously.

"...Only with bone as the pen, human skin as the paper, and blood as the ink, can you draw works that shock the soul!"

"How can... I can deceive the fake pupil of a hundred eyes. This is not a way to obstruct the eyes. Could this guy be able to distort the space here?"

Looking at the terrifying man in front of him at close range, Mochiyueche was surprised to find that...

The punch he just punched didn't have any real feeling, as if it hit the moon in the water mirror, and even the kimono on the opponent's body didn't lift a single fold.

"Forget it, how can ordinary people know how to appreciate, what is a Ukiyo-e with a soul!"

As if he was not in the same space as Mochizuki Che, the man turned his head slyly, and his movements were not hindered at all by the arm that passed through his chest.

His body, which had not turned from beginning to end, held a bone pen and slammed it into the gray stone bowl on the desk, grinding the "ink" in it.

Mochizuki's eyes flashed, and he realized that he appeared in the other corner of the platform like a teleportation.

"My lord, Tokugawa Yoshihide, is not talented. Please enjoy my young and proud work, "Hundreds of Prefaces of Kui Ti"!"

As soon as he finished speaking, several extraordinarily ornate screens covered with no miserable paintings rose from the smooth platform under his feet, trapping him like a cage.

"... After verifying these paintings, you must also feel the greatness of art. Like those people, they willingly joined my works."

After doing all this, the man who called himself "Tokugawa Yoshinian" ignored Mochizuki Che, slowly sat back in front of the drawing table, and began to draw a pen on the blank drawing paper again.

"boom!"

The screens that suddenly appeared up, down, left, and right were completely sealed inside like a coffin, and Mochizuki slammed a fist on one of the screens.

However, the thin layer of gray-white aura on the screen was agitated, and he received his heavy punch intact.

"Tsk, the power of ghosts and gods?"

At the same time, on the inside of the screen, which was covered with hundreds of paintings, countless men in armor and swords, dressed as samurai, had crawled out of the paintings, forming an encirclement in a very orderly manner.

"It seems that some high-end goods were sent out?"

Surrounded by men dressed as samurai in a small space, Mochizukiche also showed a cautious expression.

Unlike the goblin who came all the way down and was vulnerable under his fist.

The warriors walking out of these paintings have sharp eyes and a calm aura.

The hand just rested on the hilt of the sword, which gave people a sharp breath that was rushing towards the face and shaving pain.

This murderous aura honed in the sea of ​​corpses and blood, Mochizuki Che had never felt in those kendo masters in Tokyo.

"Zheng."

Without any words, only a few streamers flashed past, attacking the vital points of his body.

The few warriors in the front row, silently, drew their swords.

The flow of meditation and knowledge, the flow of new yin, the flow of Shinto without thought, the flow of direct mind shadow, the flow of mindfulness, the flow of yin, the flow of new times...

Just from these hardened and unavoidable swordsmanships, you can glimpse the essence of kendo of dozens of different schools.

However, unlike modern kendo clubs that focus on skills, this is the purest and most simple and simple killing kendo.

Because, on the battlefield of life and death, the most talented warriors often only have the opportunity to swing a knife.

Mochizuki held his breath and threw a punch without fear. He knew that it was unavoidable, and he planned to attack and fight quickly...

In the face of his punch that was enough to burst the ghosts, the warriors in the front row had no intention of dodging at all, but only focused on slashing out the brilliant swordsmanship.

The purple flame ghost claw overlapped with Mochizukiche's left arm, intertwined with the blade of light, bringing a sound of gold and iron.

The bodies of the nearest warriors were torn apart in the ghost's claws without incident.

"Hi... not good..."

Seemingly encountering something unbelievable, Mochizukiche's pupils shrank violently, and he quickly retracted his fists and retreated, stepping on the screen and using his strength to avoid several subsequent sword beams.

Because, on his right arm that was supposed to be indestructible, there were a few knife-edges with deep visible bones.

"Hey, I originally wanted to keep it for a while, but it looks like it's going to be real in advance."

At this time, he noticed that a similar gray aura was lingering on the knives of the samurai.

It was obviously a warrior "drawn" by that strange man, not only inherited the battle-hardened spirit, but also brought a trace of genuine power of ghosts and gods!

As long as they are suppressed by the realm of the power of ghosts and gods, these sword lights are enough to break through his body-protecting purple flames.

"The power of ghosts and gods, do you think you have it?! Oh ah ah ah..."

Mochizuki's whole body rose with ashes, entwined with the purple flames, and soared into the sky. His whole body trembled violently as if he was suffering from extreme pain.

With the body of a human, he excites a lot of ghosts and gods.

However, the warriors in front of him did not intend to give him a chance to breathe.

The warriors in the front row retreated with a single blow, and the warriors in the back row immediately stepped forward and handed the knife light seamlessly. space.

Although they are samurai who use different styles of swordsmanship and knives of different lengths and lengths, they are like a battle-hardened Shinsengumi battle formation with tacit understanding.

These kendo masters sleeping on the battlefield gathered together across time and space, and turned into a meat grinder that ruthlessly devoured life in a small space.

Although historically, the samurai battle formation vigorously cultivated by the shogunate was humiliated and defeated in the hands of the Western-style new army with rifles and lined up in the battle of Fushimi Toba~lightnovelpub.net~ but no one Can deny the ability of samurai to fight hand to hand in a small space.

The densely-trained sword light with the power of ghosts and gods, like a silent drizzle, constantly stirred with the gray-purple arrogance that protected Mochiyueche's body, leaving bloodstains.

"With this little strength, are you planning to tickle me?"

In the face of such a battle, Mochizuki Che, whose whole body was stained with blood, was aroused by his ferocity.

Obviously, there are fewer enemies and more enemies, but he relies on his powerful ghost claws to break tricks with strength and exchange injuries for injuries.

However, whenever a samurai is torn to pieces under the claws of the ghost, he himself will pay several fine knife wounds as the price.

What Mochizukiche didn't know was that when he was trapped inside the screen, he was engaged in a "steel cage battle to the death" with the group of warriors...

A moon-shaped platform, like an elevator, rises from bottom to top, and fits together with the periphery of the platform he is on.

On the platform, two figures, a man and a woman, could be vaguely seen.