"Damn it… where the hell have I landed this time?" Ryoma helplessly said, trying to dispel the gloom in his heart.
He carefully checked his body. Apart from extreme fatigue and suppressed magic power, there seemed to be no change in age or form like his last transmigration.
Was this a blessing in disguise?
"Haa... I still need to find a place to take shelter and rest."
Although he felt unusually exhausted at the moment, he couldn't just rest on the spot in this remote mountainous area. He could only head towards the brightly lit shrine, hoping to find a place to stay for the night.
As he got closer to the shrine, a faint, nauseating smell, mixed with the night wind, wafted over.
That smell…
A sweet, cloying scent mixed with rust and decay, permeated his nostrils.
"Blood?"
Ryoma's heart suddenly clenched, his steps froze instantly, and a chill shot up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
"No way? Out of the tiger's den and into the wolf's lair? Is this place…"
Just then, it felt as if ice shards were poured into the crevices of his spine, and a chilling sensation rushed straight to his scalp.
The air was no longer merely cold, but became thick and sinister, carrying a malevolence, a mix of blood and decay, that seemed to cling to the skin.
Ryoma's hair stood on end instantly. He suddenly looked up, staring in the direction from which the malice came.
A figure with skin ashen like a corpse, its eyes gleaming with pure greed and cruelty for flesh and blood.
"Hoo… Hoo…"
A grating laugh, like a broken bellows pumping, emerged from its gaping mouth, carrying a heavy stench of blood.
"Rare blood… what… what a sweet smell…"
The demon's eyes locked onto Ryoma, its tongue greedily licking the dark red residue at the corners of its lips.
"How nice… a lost… little snack… delivered right to my doorstep…"
Hearing the term "rare blood," combined with the appearance of the monster before him, a story about demons and demon slayers long buried deep in his pre-transmigration memories, suddenly surfaced in Ryoma's mind.
"Demons… this is…"
He remembered the story's starting point for Tanjiro—Mount Sagiri.
And wasn't that shrine in the distance exactly where the man-eating demon from the story lurked?
"Damn it… have I fallen into that world?!"
And from the looks of it, this was right around the time Tanjiro came to Mount Sagiri to train. It seemed he had arrived a little too early.
"Run… run now…"
A faint voice screamed in Ryoma's heart, but at this moment, his magic power seemed suppressed, and his body and mind were both extremely fatigued. His legs felt like lead, pinning him to the spot.
"Come quietly… into my arms…"
The demon grinned ferociously, its claw descending towards Ryoma's head with a foul-smelling gust of wind that could tear eardrums.
Its sharp claws gleamed with a dark sheen in the moonlight, and the crevices of its nails were filled with dark red, unidentifiable bits of flesh and blood.
The shadow of death materialized into a tangible coldness, gripping Ryoma's throat.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely at this moment. He could even clearly see every twisted blue vein on the demon's claw.
'Move! Move, damn it!'
Ryoma roared in despair in his heart, the foul-smelling demonic claw rapidly enlarging in his pupils.
At this moment, he thought of Natsu's unyielding spirit, Mira's warm smile, and Makarov's words about family.
Was he really going to die here so ignominiously, without even a chance to say goodbye to them?
'I am… a Mage of Fairy Tail!'
This unwillingness and obsession finally broke through the shackles of fear.
Just as the claw was about to touch his scalp, a surge of power erupted from the depths of his soul.
Buzz!
Several extremely thin wisps of dust, faintly glowing with a silvery-white aura, suddenly emanated from around him.
They weren't controlled, but rather an instinctive stress response in a near-death state, instantly forming a thin, almost transparent, ethereal barrier in front of Ryoma.
Screech!
The claw slammed fiercely into this fragile dust barrier.
The sharp nails rubbed against the dust, sparking tiny embers. The barrier violently fluctuated and dented, on the verge of shattering completely.
This was Ryoma's "Dust" magic, and in a moment of life and death, it showed some effect for the first time in this new world.
The shattered barrier transformed into countless specks of light, and the residual impact slammed into his chest, sending him flying backward.
He crashed heavily into the cold, muddy ground. A metallic sweetness surged in his throat, but he gritted his teeth, forcing down the mouthful of blood mixed with the earthy stench.
Excruciating pain swept through his body like a tide. His bones felt dislocated, and his internal organs churned. But Ryoma's consciousness was clearer than ever—he was alive, for now, having narrowly avoided being disemboweled.
"Ahhhhh!!!"
The demon let out a sharp howl, mixed with intense pain and fury.
It incredulously raised its claw, only to see that the parts of its fingertips that had touched the dust barrier were "sizzling" with strange green smoke, and a small patch of skin was already charred and necrotic.
What terrified it even more was that its regenerative ability, which it was so proud of, was now basically useless, the wound healing extremely slowly.
"What… what the hell is this?! You damned little bug!"
A sense of humiliation instantly ignited the demon's madness. Being wounded by a human, whom it considered "food," was more unbearable than any severe injury.
"I'll tear you to shreds! Chew you up bit by bit!"
Killing intent boiled in its crimson eyes, and its other intact claw, with a whistle that tore through the air, slammed down again towards Ryoma, who was struggling to get up.
This time, it was faster and fiercer.
Ryoma couldn't even be sure if he could squeeze out even a tiny bit of magic power.
He could only watch in despair as the claw, covered in twisted blue veins, infinitely expanded in his pupils. He could even clearly see the patterns of the twisted arm joints on the demon's claw.
'It's over…'
Just at this critical moment—
"Haaa!"
A clear and powerful shout from a young man rang out.
A figure rushed out from the shadows of the forest, his checkered haori flapping in the wind.
The young man gripped a logging axe with both hands, using all his strength to deliver a swift horizontal slash, fiercely chopping towards the demon's neck.
Screech!
The axe blade cut into the muscle, but due to limitations in force and material, it couldn't complete the job, yet it made the demon instinctively recoil.
"Are you alright?"
The young man didn't pursue, but immediately turned, grabbing Ryoma's arm and helping him up from the mud.
The newcomer was none other than the protagonist of Demon Slayer—Kamado Tanjiro.
He was accompanied by a young girl wearing a kimono, with a bamboo muzzle in her mouth—Nezuko.
Her gaze, however, bypassed everyone and was firmly drawn to the even more concentrated and viscous scent of blood emanating from the nearby shrine.
Nezuko's body tensed slightly, and glistening saliva uncontrollably seeped from the edge of the bamboo muzzle, dripping down.
Tanjiro's keen nose had smelled a strong scent of blood from afar, thinking someone was injured, and rushed over with his sister Nezuko.
Upon getting closer, he felt the commotion from Ryoma's side intemsify, and being kind-hearted, he immediately stepped forward to help.
"Be careful, your axe is useless against him, it can't hurt him!"
Ryoma endured his injuries, and seeing that Tanjiro still had the presence of mind to worry about him, he immediately warned him.