If at first Ryuzaki Tsugikuni was just meat in the demon's eyes, now he was a prime wagyu steak dusted with spices, irresistible.
The dirt-caked demon wasn't stupid. Since Sun Breathing suppressed his regeneration, he took no chances and hacked off the entire leg. It would grow back anyway.
Ryuzaki gulped air, but he kept a white-knuckled grip on the broken blade. If he'd landed one form once, he could land it again.
He had all thirteen Sun Breathing forms etched into his mind, yet using the breathing for the first time made his lungs feel like they might burst.
The demon's left leg had already begun to sprout. Meat wriggled like worms. Ryuzaki wasn't an idiot; he wouldn't wait for his enemy to finish healing and then eat him.
He charged through the pain. Seeing that calm, unwavering gaze, the demon felt a prickle of fear, terror that rose from the blood itself.
Ryuzaki, however, wasn't even sure this busted blade could still channel Sun Breathing. The demon conjured five earthen spheres at once and sent them crashing toward him.
Ryuzaki raised the blade and carved a flaming arc, then four more in quick succession.
Sun Breathing, First Form: Dance.
The slashes collided with the orbs, breaking the assault. Seeing it work, Ryuzaki pressed in.
As he reached the demon, he brought the broken blade across and unleashed another form.
Sun Breathing, Third Form: Raging Sun.
A deep crimson sweep tore for the demon's neck. Eyes wide, the demon threw up his right hand on instinct. The blazing cut took the hand clean off.
Ryuzaki shouted as he struck, pouring every shred of strength into the blow. He was already mangled. If this didn't kill the demon, he was the one who would die.
The head spun away. A smile tugged at Ryuzaki's lips. Then the adrenaline ebbed, and the pain surged back in waves.
He dropped to one knee before the headless body, the broken blade stabbed into the earth to keep him from toppling. The scene he expected didn't happen.
He had severed a demon's neck with a Nichirin Blade. That should have been the weakness. Had he been wrong?
The head on the ground cackled. "I admit you're strong for a brat. But at the last moment, I cut my own head off. Didn't expect that, did you? You're dead anyway."
There was no time to be stunned. Ryuzaki tipped forward and slammed into the torso. Both of them collapsed. He couldn't stand; pain pinned him to the dirt.
Then the demon started crying. The sound crawled over the forest, cold and clammy.
"Why… why does my neck hurt so much? It's like it's on fire. Why!"
"You'll hurt for life," Ryuzaki said, grinning through the blood. "Even if you eat me, it won't stop."
It was a laugh at a demon's expense. Demon Slayers fought in the dark where demons thrived. Demons regenerated. Humans faded. Even so, the Corps kept fighting to protect people and cut monsters down.
The demon's body staggered upright, clutching the head, and lurched toward Ryuzaki. He cackled, then kicked the boy hard.
Ryuzaki hit a tree. Blood sprayed from his mouth. The broken blade spun away. Warmth trickled down his brow and over his eyes, blurring the world.
"Tch. Damn human brat. You almost got me," the demon jeered. "I'll tear your arm off first. With talent like yours, He will give me more blood for sure. Then I'll be able to join the Twelve Kizuki. Hah!"
"An imbecile like you... Joining the twelve kizuki? Haha," Ryuzaki laughed out loud, his eyes glinting with blatant mockery. "Remember, you nearly got killed by a kid."
The demon, seething, ignored his own head and clamped a hand around Ryuzaki's throat, lifting him off the ground. His other hand seized Ryuzaki's right arm.
Air vanished while Dizziness bloomed as his heart hammered. His body shook, and pain knifed up his arm.
He felt death sliding close. Not the first time tonight. But it stung; he hadn't even gotten the chance to meet Shinobu yet, too. He hadn't changed anything he needed to change.
But all of a sudden, the demon's arms fell away at once.
A slender silhouette stepped between them.
Black hair. Violet eyes. Butterfly clips of green edged with pink at her temples. The standard Demon Slayer Corps uniform beneath a haori patterned with butterfly wings.
The demon felt fear coil in his gut at her gentle smile, the weight only a Hashira carried. She had severed both his arms before he could even react.
"You're a Hashira?" he croaked.
The woman smiled. "Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm the Flower Hashira, Kanae Kocho. Mister Demon, are you bullying a child? I must free you right away."
Kanae's voice felt like standing in warm spring sunlight, gentle everywhere.
She believed demons had once been human and pitied them. Saving people meant slaying demons, yes, but it also meant releasing demons from their sorrow.
The demon tucked his head against his chest and bolted. For a demon like him, meeting a Hashira meant a single outcome: death. Worse, this woman was gentle even to demons. The thought alone chilled him.
Kanae moved.
Flower Breathing, Second Form: Honorable Shadow Plum. (T/N: OC move that has been derived from the original Flower Breathing.)
Multiple slashes lilted after him. Their paths fell like drifting plum blossoms, unpredictable yet beautiful.
After the blade passed, his body and head came apart, quartered cleanly. As he crumbled into ash, bitterness gnawed at him. Marechi would have made him so much stronger. Why,
Kanae's gentle voice called up a memory from before he was a demon... Perhaps to atone for all the sins he committed as a demon.
"Mister Demon," Kanae murmured, "your life of evil is finally over. I hope in the next life you can be a good person."
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T/N: Patreon/Robshit for advance chapters