Miroku watched warily as Toutousai addressed Kaijinbou. The swordsmith's arrival had unexpectedly given them some breathing room; Kaijinbou seemed in no rush to attack Toutsousai just yet. For his part, Miroku couldn't help but wonder if they should take advantage of the opportunity to get away. It would have been the sensible course of action… but with Inuyasha riled up and eager for a fight, it was also extremely unlikely.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Kaijinbou?" Toutousai asked. His tone was casual, almost chatty, and only the slightest bit dismissive.

"I didn't realize you were still alive," Kaijinbou sneered in return.

Toutousai's face was grim. "And you've forged another cruel sword."

Kaijinbou laughed in response, a belly laugh that was as deep as it was cruel. "We'll find out once and for all who's the better sword maker now: you or me."

So the two were rivals, or at least Kaijinbou seemed to think they were. For his part, Toutousai did not appear to care much about the challenge that had just been issued. "You know each other?" Miroku asked him.

"He was once my student, but he disgraced himself and I threw him out." It was hard to tell what Toutousai was thinking, but Miroku got the impression that there was more than a mere disagreement about sword-making at work here. And the swordsmith only confirmed his fears when he went on, "You see, Kaijinbou once killed ten children to make one sword. He worked their blood and fat into the sword, so it could draw upon the power of their malice."

"And what's wrong with that?" Kaijinbou demanded. "Thanks to the technique I perfected in forging it, that sword could cut far better than an ordinary sword."

He truly appeared to see nothing wrong with creating a sword from the flesh and blood of slaughtered children. It made Miroku feel ill—and it made him want Inuyasha to beat Kaijinbou in this fight. The man was more than a fighter and a sword-maker, he was a monster. If no one stopped him, he would undoubtedly continue to enact his atrocities in pursuit of ever more powerful blades.

Kaijinbou seemed only too eager for the same confrontation, though he obviously had a very different ending in mind. "Draw your sword, Inuyasha!" he demanded. "I'll smash that stupid sword of yours right in front of the old man's face!"

As the two fighters prepared to square off, Shippou began to bombard Toutousai with questions. "Inuyasha can win even without his youkai blood, right?" he asked, hopping from his place in Kagome's arms onto Toutousai's shoulder. "The reforged Tessaiga is a lot stronger, isn't it?"

"A bit," the swordsmith confirmed.

"Only a bit?" Kagome asked, dismay clear in her voice. "A bit isn't going to be enough."

Even Sango seemed inclined to agree with the pessimistic assessment. "That sword is made from the fangs of Goshinki, the one that shattered the Tessaiga in the first place."

"Well, that's no good," Toutousai said, even as Inuyasha drew his sword and leaped at Kaijinbou.

The moment the blades touched, blood spurted from cuts all over Inuyasha's body; Kaijinbou easily repulsed him, pushing back until the hanyou toppled to the ground in bloody agony.

Miroku gripped his staff hard. The fight could not continue like this or Inuyasha would kill himself before ever landing a blow on his enemy, yet Miroku could think of no way he might intervene without also risking his friends. Kaijinbou had fallen to his attacks before, but he doubted the evil swordsman would make the same mistake a second time. They needed some other solution, and they needed it fast.

Kaijinbou pressed his advantage, striking for Inuyasha again. Despite the blood and the pain, Inuyasha not only met the blow with Tessaiga, he forced it aside. Drenched in his own blood, Inuyasha actually smiled. Smiling in the midst of a bloody battle was unnerving enough when he was in his usual form. It was worse seeing him do so as a human.

"Looks like Tessaiga's gotten stronger after all," he observed. Miroku wasn't sure he should be wasting his breath on taunts, but at least this time he was the one doing the taunting, rather than rising to the bait.

Kaijinbou merely laughed. "It doesn't matter. Your body will be cut to ribbons before this sword breaks."

This time Inuyasha seemed to be enjoying the exchange. "You're right," he said. "That's a nasty sword. But you made a big mistake: you should've killed me right away." Only then did Miroku realize why Inuyasha had ceased being even begrudgingly afraid—the silver beginning to show in his hair, the fangs protruding in his mouth as he spoke, the claws that tipped his fingers once more. A glance to the east showed the truth: the sun was beginning to rise, and Inuyasha's human night was over. His powers as a hanyou were being restored to him with the dawn.

He was grinning by the time the transformation finished and the Tessaiga transformed as well, eager to get back to the fight now that he could use his full power. But his expression quickly shifted to one of anger. "Toutousai, you bastard! What the hell did you do to my Tessaiga?" When no answer was forthcoming, he demanded, "Tell me, damn it. What did you do to Tessaiga?"

Finally, Toutousai acknowledged the question… but in the most insolent way possible. "Oh? Is there something wrong?"

"It's heavy! What did you do?"

The swordsmith gave this some thought. "I would imagine it's because I had to use your fang as filler," he said at last. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? I can barely lift it!"

That was a very bad sign. Kaijinbou had thus far not turned out to be a particularly skilled swordsman—it was really Toukijin they needed to worry about—but if Inuyasha could hardly lift his sword, he would be seriously hampered in battle. Even against a lesser opponent, he might not be able to win.

Kaijinbou seemed to find it all very amusing. From his perspective, it probably was. "A sword you can't lift won't do you any good, will it, Inuyasha?" he asked. His lips curved into a wicked smile. "Which means I get to rip you and your sword apart!"

He threw himself forward, raising Toukijin over his head as if for a downward strike. Inuyasha struggled valiantly to bring the Tessaiga around into position, but it was painfully obvious the sword was too heavy for him. His movements were slow and ungainly, nothing at all like his usual fighting style.

At the last possible moment he got the Tessaiga in place and leaped, meeting Kaijinbou head on. Energy seemed to flare from the point where the two swords met, as if the weapons were waging a spiritual battle in addition to a physical one. With both weapons containing the power of the youkai whose parts they had been made from, it was possible.

Kaijinbou laughed. "See, Toutousai? Your sword is as worthless as you."

But he was either bluffing or too distracted. His grip shifted, allowing the Tessaiga's edge to slide down Toukijin's blade. As if it were slicing through air, the Tessaiga severed his hand and kept going until it had split him nearly in two. Toukijin landed point down in the earth, ready for the taking. Kaijinbou died laughing until the very end, his severed hand still gripping Toukijin's hilt as if he meant to rise from the dead again and resume the fight.

Only this time he didn't get back up.

"What on earth was that?" Miroku murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He had never seen anything like what had just happened. He couldn't even be sure it was the Tessaiga's blade, rather than some spiritual power it now possessed, that had done the cutting.

Toutousai, it seemed, new the answer. "Kaijinbou's body could not take any more of Tessaiga's cutting power, and gave out on him," he explained.

So Miroku really had seen Kaijinbou go down under the sword's power before the blade actually touched him. It was a stunning upgrade to the Tessaiga's power, no matter what Toutousai said. With this additional power, achieving their ultimate goal of putting an end to Naraku seemed much more achievable.

Meanwhile, Toutousai's gaze remained focused on Inuyasha and what was left of Kaijinbouh. "He was foolish enough to get possessed by a sword he himself made," the swordsmith said quietly, sounding surprisingly sad. He must once have thought much more highly of his former student than he did now. Shaking his head slightly, he added under his breath, "The damn novice."