The dawn arrived pale and unsteady, light struggling through the dense forest canopy, casting long, fragmented shadows across the snow-covered ground. Félix moved forward, boots sinking slightly into the frost, katanas sheathed yet humming faintly with the latent energy of Ice Breathing. His mind was focused, alert, every sense alive to the forest's subtle whispers—the faint crack of a branch, the shifting of snow under an unseen weight, the chill that seemed almost unnatural. Today would test him as never before: multiple demons had been reported in the region, a cluster of lower-ranked threats, but rumors suggested coordination beyond ordinary instinct.
Tanjiro walked beside him, calm and observant. Zenitsu, pale but resolute, whispered nervously to himself, hands trembling around the hilt of his blade. Inosuke bounded ahead, sniffing the air, growling with anticipation. Félix's pulse was steady, each inhalation reinforcing concentration. The eighth technique, Frozen Torrent, a high-speed multi-strike designed to overwhelm multiple opponents, and the ninth technique, Diamond Frost, a devastating precision strike capable of immobilizing an enemy, were at the forefront of his mind. Today, mastery would demand their full integration.
The first demon appeared without warning—a grotesque creature with sinewy limbs and a serpentine agility, its red eyes glowing with predatory intelligence. Félix moved instinctively, Frost Fang ready, deflecting a swipe aimed at Zenitsu. The demon recoiled only briefly before darting toward Inosuke. Félix executed Glacial Veil, spinning with fluid precision to intercept the attack, ice forming a protective barrier that deflected the blow. The forest seemed to hold its breath, each motion deliberate, each decision weighted with consequence.
"Stay coordinated," Tanjiro instructed, eyes sharp. "They are clever, but predictable if you anticipate correctly."
Félix nodded, eyes narrowing. He initiated Frozen Torrent, unleashing a flurry of rapid strikes at angles calculated to engage multiple demons simultaneously. Each motion was precise, slicing through sinew and ice crystallizing along the blades' path. Two demons lunged from opposite directions, and Félix adjusted, spinning and pivoting to meet them both, each strike a conversation with the battlefield itself. Zenitsu, inspired, followed Félix's rhythm, finding openings in the chaos, while Inosuke's reckless charges became opportunities rather than liabilities, their movements subtly guided by Félix's intuition.
The forest erupted into motion. Snow scattered under the demons' rapid advances, ice forming and shattering with every strike. Félix's body moved in near-perfect synchrony with his techniques, each action fluid, each reaction deliberate. Diamond Frost became the final, decisive instrument: a strike aimed at the largest of the three demons, a single blow to immobilize its limbs and shatter its offensive potential. The demon staggered, immobilized by the icy precision, while the other two fell under coordinated attacks from Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke.
A sudden rustle to Félix's left drew his attention. Another demon, faster and smarter than the first three, had emerged from the shadows, circling cautiously. Its movements were deliberate, testing the group's reactions. Félix assessed the threat, calculating angles, and then executed Frozen Torrent, a rapid assault designed to engage multiple targets. The demon dodged partially, forcing Félix to pivot and adapt mid-technique. Ice Whirl, layered subtly over Frozen Torrent, created a defensive barrier that allowed Zenitsu and Inosuke to strike safely.
The creature countered aggressively, lunging at Félix with claws extended. He responded with Diamond Frost, plunging the precision strike along the centerline of its body. Frost erupted, freezing sinew and muscle alike, halting the demon in a frozen pause. Before it could recover, Inosuke and Zenitsu executed a combined strike, and the demon collapsed, immobilized and shattered by frost.
Amid the chaos, Félix felt an unfamiliar presence observing. He turned slightly, eyes narrowing, and glimpsed a figure in the distance: a Hashira, standing silently among the trees, arms crossed, assessing the battle with a discerning gaze. Tanjiro acknowledged the figure briefly, nodding subtly, and Félix understood without words—his performance had been observed, evaluated by one of the highest authorities in the Demon Slayer Corps.
The final wave of demons surged forward, three more, desperate and cunning. Félix executed a seamless combination of Ice Whirl and Frozen Torrent, guiding his allies with subtle shifts of weight and movement. Zenitsu's strikes were more confident now, Inosuke's attacks more effective, and the trio moved as a unit, rhythm and precision dominating chaos. Diamond Frost ended the battle decisively, the last demon immobilized, its form crystallized in lethal beauty, the forest returning to a fragile stillness.
Breathing heavily, Félix lowered his katanas. His body was slick with frost and sweat, his mind still scanning for threats. The forest had tested not only his mastery of the eighth and ninth techniques but his leadership, coordination, and judgment under pressure. He had guided allies, adapted to unpredictable threats, and executed complex maneuvers with precision. Every strike had been a lesson, every movement a reinforcement of control and flow.
Zenitsu collapsed into the snow, exhausted but triumphant. "I… I think I finally understand rhythm," he murmured, voice trembling. Inosuke removed his boar mask, grinning wildly. "We actually didn't get eaten! That was amazing!" Félix allowed himself a faint smile, acknowledging both the encouragement and the truth in their words.
The Hashira remained in the shadows, observing silently. Finally, the figure approached, voice calm but resonant. "You have potential," the Hashira said, eyes assessing. "Control, precision, adaptability… these are rare qualities. But you must remember: techniques are only part of the battle. Judgment, patience, and responsibility are what will define you in the face of true threats." Félix bowed slightly, absorbing the weight of the words. Mentorship, guidance, and accountability—these were the next layers of his journey.
The group began the return journey to the village, the snow crunching softly underfoot. Félix reflected on the day's events: multiple demons, complex coordination, mastery of new techniques, and the silent observation of a Hashira. Each moment had demanded focus, each action had consequences, and each decision had reinforced the importance of discipline and awareness. Ice Breathing was more than combat; it was a philosophy of precision, flow, and responsibility.
By the time they reached the village, the first stars had begun to glimmer in the cold sky, reflecting off the snow like scattered diamonds. Félix sheathed his katanas, feeling the residual chill cling to the blades as a reminder of the power and discipline required. He had faced multiple threats, guided allies effectively, and survived a test that challenged body, mind, and judgment.
As night settled over the village, Félix allowed himself a moment of stillness. The lessons of the day crystallized in his mind: mastery of the eighth and ninth techniques, coordination with allies, adaptation to intelligent opponents, and awareness under observation by a senior slayer. Tomorrow would bring new challenges—perhaps even greater threats, more complex strategies, and the next steps in his journey toward becoming a true Ice Reaper.
He looked up at the stars, a faint wind stirring the snow around him. The forest waited, the shadows of the Lunes loomed unseen, and the path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger. Yet he felt readiness, resolve, and a clarity that his training, his experiences, and his instincts had begun to forge. Ice Breathing was not merely his power; it was his path, his philosophy, and his promise to protect those who could not defend themselves.