“Of course I will.
Not a single one of you is getting away.”
Thick saliva dripped from Demon’s jaws, splattering onto the ground, soaking into clothes and dirt.
Wisteria bloomed from the foot to the middle of the mountain.
Demon was trapped on Mt.
Fujikasane, unable to escape.
Usually, he only managed to snatch one or two humans during Final Selection.
He had never expected such incredible luck.
The event had just begun, and three prey already waited to be slaughtered.
He had been starving for ages.
Even if Jutaro hadn’t spoken, he wouldn’t have spared these meals.
But before that-
A claw swept forth, gouging open Jutaro’s thigh.
He collapsed, clutching his leg, rolling and screaming in agony.
Demon saw through this brat’s scheme immediately.
The brat wanted to escape while he killed brat’s so-called companions.
Demon would never let him go.
Now he couldn’t run.
He lowered his body slowly, dropping onto all fours like a wild beast.
His gaze fixed on Aoi and Hajime across the way, finally locking onto the girl.
His limbs propelled him forward, kicking dirt into the air, wind blowing against his kimono.
Aoi, still reeling from her friend’s betrayal, couldn’t react.
She stood frozen.
‘Take out one first!’ Demon could already envision his claws ripping open the human girl, blood splattering everywhere.
That scene never materialized.
*Clang!*
An obstructive figure darted in front of Aoi.
Demon’s guaranteed attack missed.
Sparks flared, illuminating Hajime’s fearless face.
The collision scraped out bright sparks.
In the blink of an eye, Demon’s claws blurred, raking Hajime with a relentless barrage of strikes.
*Clang clang clang!*
Flesh and blood though they were, the impact roared like steel on steel.
Demon had never learned swordsmanship, and this was no structured Dual Wielding.
Instinct, or perhaps battlefield experience earned over years, drove him to employ a combat style that mimicked Dual Wielding.
The advantage lay not in speed, but in simultaneous strikes.
Block one hand, the other still wounds.
Humans are fragile.
A wound means bleeding.
Excessive blood loss slows reactions and clouds the mind.
Hajime did not deflect with his blade.
He stepped forward, catching the left hand’s strike with his hilt.
Blocking the left still left Demon’s right claw swiping at his head.
Demon’s claws were sharp as blades.
One graze would shatter his skull and spill his brains.
Anyone else would have instinctively dropped their sword to dodge.
Demon assumed the same.
He refused to accept the youth before him was foolish enough for a head-on clash.
Even if the boy’s sword struck true, unless he severed brat’s neck, the wound meant nothing.
Trading blows head-on was a fool’s choice.
If the boy dropped his sword and rolled away, that would play right into Demon’s hands.
A swordsman without a Nichirin blade was no different from meat on a chopping block.
Demon guessed wrong.
Hajime did not drop his sword or roll away.
He twisted his waist, spinning body and arm, putting his whole weight behind the swing to adjust the angle of his blade.
The sharp edge sliced clean through the right hand that had been reaching for his skull.
Dripping with blood, the sword lost none of its momentum and struck Demon’s neck.
*Clang!*
Steel rang out.
Sparks flew.
Demon jerked back and leaped away, bounding a dozen meters in a few quick strides.
Severed right hand still gushing blood, he pressed his intact left hand to the wound on his neck.
A shallow cut, but there.
Shock spread across Demon’s hideous face.
Their clash had been only the first exchange, and his neck had already been struck?
The thought of retreat flickered in Demon’s mind.
Since being captured and brought to Mt.
Fujikasane, several years had passed.
Demon had survived on this mountain, avoiding infighting with his own kind and slayers alike, precisely because he was more cautious than other monsters.
Though the exchange was brief, it revealed that this youth was highly dangerous.
Shielded behind Hajime, Aoi stared blankly at Hajime’s back, eyes wide.
When Demon lunged at her, her mind had gone completely blank.
Her grueling daily training, the motions of swinging, blocking, evading, when she needed them most, she could recall none of it.
Even fear had failed to arise.
She simply stood there, watching Demon draw closer and closer.
It was not until Hajime blocked the attack for her and forced Demon back that Aoi snapped back to reality, realizing what had just happened.
Meanwhile, Jutaro, whose thigh had been slashed earlier, also stared blankly at Hajime standing with his sword drawn.
When Demon slashed his thigh, he had finally snapped back to his senses.
His reaction, however, was not to help the other two, but to flee this place with all his might.
Reason told him that with his injured leg, he wouldn’t make it far at all.
Once Demon finished those two, he would catch up and finish him off too.
But his survival instinct refused to listen to reason.
He dragged himself away on his hands.
He hadn’t gone far before the clash between Demon and Hajime ended.
Against all expectations, Demon hadn’t slaughtered the two humans he’d written off as dead.
Instead, he had been forced back by the boy.
What was going on?
What just happened?
How could Demon that he couldn’t even touch be pushed back by that boy?
He was a man destined to become a Hashira, how could things turn out like this?
Jutaro’s chest burned with fury and jealousy.
Demon hesitated.
Hajime did not.
A demon’s limitless stamina meant no fatigue, and his regeneration was extreme.
No matter how grievous the injury, he would heal rapidly.
Even severed limbs or being reduced to a torso would regrow quickly.
If decapitated by anything other than a Nichirin blade, simply placing the head against the body would reattach it.
Barring sunlight and a Nichirin blade to the neck, demons were practically the ultimate lifeforms.
A war of attrition against a demon was impossible.
Victory required swift resolution.
Demon chose to retreat.
His legs bent and thrust downward, dirt crunching deep into the ground as two craters formed.
Using that explosive force, his body hurtled backward.
“Didn’t see that coming, demon slayer!
This is my escape route!”
Through the trees, his arrogant laughter faded into the distance.
Aoi breathed a sigh of relief, but Hajime’s face showed no sign of relaxing.
He stepped back to her side, settling into a defensive stance.
The previously noisy forest fell silent.
Only the ravaged scene and an arm still twitching on the dirt remained as proof of the battle between human and demon.
Soon moonlight dimmed, and visibility plummeted.
Hajime closed his eyes, slowing his breathing.
He abandoned his sight, relying on his other senses to perceive his surroundings.
Aoi had no idea what was happening.
She didn’t dare ask.
She simply drew her Nichirin blade in silence, guarding Hajime’s back.
Though she had no idea how much use her clumsy self could actually be.
A gust of wind carrying a foul stench struck suddenly.
‘There!’ Hajime’s eyes snapped open.
He shoved Aoi behind him and dodged sideways.
A dark shape slammed heavily into the exact spot they had just been standing.
Demon crashed down from above, smashing the ground to pieces.
Dirt sprayed through the air.
As Hajime dodged, claws tore through the dust, swiping fiercely at him.
Demon aimed not just for where Hajime stood, but where he inevitably had to dodge.
Human bodies had limits.
A brat struggling through the Final Selection could never dodge twice in quick succession.
Demon gambled correctly.
Hajime definitely could not dodge a second time, he was human, incapable of movements that defied common sense.
If he could not dodge, he had to find another way.
He flipped his Nichirin blade and slashed downward.
The blade struck the sweeping claws.
The claws sliced through the air, and ripped Hajime’s haori, but ultimately grazed past his body.
The hasty swing fell short of a full-strength strike, failing to sever Demon’s arm.
Still, it served its purpose, Demon’s accuracy ruined, and Hajime bounced off the recoil, dodging the attack.
The boy rolled across the ground several times, his haori stained with mud, and a few strands of his hair severed by the claws.
He did not bother standing.
He vaulted from the dirt and lunged at Demon.
Gripping his sword with both hands, the blade flashed into a cold streak, slashing diagonally at Demon’s neck in a brutal horizontal strike.
Demon’s physique was terrifying.
In just that brief moment, the right hand Hajime had severed earlier had already regrown.
Demon crossed his arms to block, attempting to catch the boy’s blade while deflecting his strike.
He would not give Hajime another chance to touch his neck like last time.
Seize the blade, snap that obstructive weapon, and slowly deal with this troublesome brat.
Demon’s plan was flawless, but he underestimated the sheer force of Hajime’s strike.
Under Hajime’s full-power slash, the Nichirin blade sliced off Demon’s left hand and cleaved halfway into his newly regenerated right hand.
The tip of the blade struck Demon’s neck once again.
Unlike before, the wound penetrated much deeper.
Sensing the sun’s warmth radiating from the blade and the scorching heat like magma from the wound on his neck, every hair on Demon’s body stood on end.
He abandoned his plan and hastily leapt backward, putting distance between them.
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