"Why?"
The cold question lingered in the prison cell, though its speaker would never receive the answer she sought.
Clang!!
The iron door slammed shut.
A figure strode out of the dark, leaving the gloomy dungeon behind, accompanied only by the occasional enraged howls from another cell.
"Bastard!! What did you do to Lady Tamayo?! Damn you! I'll never forgive you! Never!!"
Ignoring the impotent roars of the brat in the neighboring cell, the figure didn't pause for even a step as it departed.
Emerging from the dungeon onto an open stone plaza, the cold moonlight illuminated the headband bearing the character for "Martial" on his forehead.
Black claws effortlessly tore through a boulder, fashioning it into a seat.
Maito sprawled atop the stone bench, legs spread wide, his golden pupils fixed on the distance as if awaiting someone.
In the darkness, Maito waited.
Patiently.
Resolutely.
A fragment of rock, idly tossed and caught in his hand, was the only movement in the oppressive, deathly silence.
Only the sporadic chirping of insects broke the night.
Finally.
No footsteps.
No rustle of wind.
Not even the faintest hint of breathing.
A figure Maito had long anticipated materialized as if stepping out of the moon's shadow, appearing silently within his line of sight.
A green haori.
Twin blades at the waist.
The crisp, pristine uniform of the Demon Slayer Corps.
The Forest Hashira—Shinichi Moriki.
Now, Shinichi could no longer suppress the fury buried deep within.
The most obvious signs were the veins bulging on his forehead and the glacial coldness in his eyes—beneath which seethed a hatred as scorching as molten lava, threatening to incinerate everything in its path.
Shinichi's gaze, like two sharp icicles, instantly bridged the dozens of meters between them, precisely and unrelentingly pinning Maito, who sat upon the stone bench.
If the killing intent in his eyes had tangible force, Maito and the stone seat beneath him would have already been crushed and incinerated by Shinichi's fury!
The air seemed to freeze solid, even the moonlight appearing to crystallize under this intangible bloodlust.
Crack!
Black claws effortlessly clenched, instantly reducing the rock in Maito's grasp to powder, scattering into the night breeze.
Seeing Shinichi's arrival, Maito's golden vertical pupils contracted slightly.
His cold, stern face then split into a somewhat ferocious grin, his pale fangs ghastly in the darkness.
That smile held a trace of surprise, a hint of relief, and... an indescribable warrior's fervor for battle.
"You came." Maito's voice remained low, shattering the deathly silence between them.
He slowly rose from the stone bench, his bones emitting a series of unsettling cracks as his martial artist's frame stretched to its full height.
"Originally, I thought some Hashira from the Demon Slayer Corps might appear here. After all, a Hashira's head holds considerable value for Muzan-sama. But tonight brings an unexpected surprise. Shinichi... I've been waiting... for you... for a long time!"
Shinichi didn't respond.
He didn't even glance at Maito's strange, unfamiliar smile.
His gaze slowly lowered, settling on Maito's right arm—the limb ending in black claws.
Noticing Shinichi's focus on his right hand, Maito raised it with a mocking smile.
"What? Still concerned about that little girl?"
Shinichi's breathing grew heavier.
BOOM!!
The very earth seemed to tremble.
The bricks beneath their feet shattered like fragile crackers, collapsing instantly!
A tempest of violent energy erupted like a hurricane, carrying overwhelming killing intent and pure power as it crashed toward Maito!
Without a shred of their former camaraderie, Shinichi gripped the hilt of his Nichirin Blade, his eyes locked on Maito as he slowly enunciated each word.
"That... hand of yours... I'll... crush it... inch by inch... into dust!!"
-----------------------------
Read 45 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator