Mount Fujikasane, Fourth Night of the Final Selection.
The eastern side of Mount Fujikasane was the first place touched by sunlight, so most of the participating swordsmen treated the eastern slope as their goal.
But two people were moving against that flow.
The last glow of sunset had vanished beyond the horizon. There was no moon tonight, and the mountain lay in complete darkness.
Sanemi sprinted forward with the iron shears on his back, glancing toward the woman moving through the treetops.
Sui's movements were light and agile, flipping and leaping from branch to branch, her crimson haori flying behind her.
On the way west, they had run into that girl from before, Kuroba Chiyo. She was already able to move normally and was heading along the ridge toward the eastern side of the mountain.
So that's why she wasn't wearing her haori during the day, Sanemi thought. She'd lent it to that little brat.
If he got hurt, would this woman lend him her haori too?
The thought surfaced in his mind out of nowhere, but he immediately found it disgusting. How could he possibly be as weak as that little girl?
"Where are you going?" Sanemi asked.
Sui flashed through the woods, casually taking the heads of any passing demons that crossed her path.
The scenery kept sliding backward around them. She moved so quickly that Sanemi had to keep his Breathing active just to keep up from the ground.
"Blood Demon Art," Sui said.
"What? A Blood Demon Art?" Sanemi frowned.
"That grotesque demon likely knew nothing because it had been affected by a Blood Demon Art. There should still be another demon hiding somewhere on Mount Fujikasane, one capable of using Blood Demon Arts. It hid the Hand Demon and let it evade the Demon Slayer Corps' mountain sweeps."
"And how exactly are you planning to find it?"
"Simple. Bleed a little more."
Her voice came back through the darkness.
"We head to the center of Mount Fujikasane. From there, my blood can cover the entire mountain."
"If you draw out the demon with the Blood Demon Art, you'll draw every demon on Mount Fujikasane with it," Sanemi said.
"Isn't that exactly what you want?" Sui replied with a smile.
Sanemi grinned savagely.
"Exactly! Damned woman, I forgive you for the shameless way you stole my roasted rabbit during the day!"
At the western foot of Mount Fujikasane, following the ridgeline downward led to a small waterfall.
In front of that waterfall sat a monk in a worn old kasaya, a sacred shimenawa rope wrapped around his neck. One side of his face was marred by burn scars. He sat cross-legged, chanting sutras, looking for all the world like a wandering ascetic.
But this was Mount Fujikasane.
A man like that should not have existed here.
"The fourth night," the monk murmured. "I can't let that Hand Demon hunt the candidates however it pleases. If it draws the Demon Slayer Corps' attention, that'll be troublesome. My reports still haven't drawn the attention of any of the Twelve Kizuki. What a pity. If only this place could simply be destroyed—"
"Idiot! You forgot again," hissed the shimenawa around the monk's neck. "The Twelve Kizuki already answered you. If this place is destroyed outright, the Demon Slayer Corps will simply find somewhere else to conduct their selection."
The monk lowered his head.
This was a tool created through his Blood Demon Art, something that stored part of his important memories.
"Maintaining the current situation is enough. Quietly snuff out the talented ones, and the Demon Slayer Corps will wither away without realizing it," the rope said.
"Have I forgotten again?" the monk sighed. "Every time I use my Blood Demon Art, I lose another piece of my memory. It feels awful."
The monk rose, intending to go retrieve the Hand Demon.
That thing was far too greedy.
He stepped into the forest, but then a strange fragrance suddenly slipped into his nose.
"Wait... what is this?"
"Rare blood! It's rare blood! At least a thousand men's worth of rare blood!" the shimenawa shrieked excitedly. "Haven't you always wanted to rise into the Twelve Kizuki? Eat that rare blood, and joining the Twelve Kizuki will be effortless! Maybe you won't even lose your memories when you use your Blood Demon Art anymore!"
The rope's urging was unnecessary.
The monk's gaze had already changed.
Like a drunken man, he began stumbling toward the center of Mount Fujikasane.
Before it, too, lost itself in the intoxicating scent, the rope muttered, "As a candidate for the Twelve Kizuki, dealing with some brat taking the Final Selection should be easy enough. Especially an injured one..."
Then suddenly it screamed:
"Hurry! What if that damned Hand Demon is already eating her?!"
The monk's steps instantly grew faster.
His mind was swimming, but he had only one target now.
The mountain forest was eerily empty. Not a single demon was visible anywhere.
But as he drew near the center of Mount Fujikasane, the ground beneath his feet grew wet. Blood had soaked into the earth, turning it crimson, and a powerful burnt stench rose so strongly that for moments it even overwhelmed the fragrance of the rare blood.
The monk muttered, "What happened here?"
"Who cares? The rare blood is just ahead!" the rope urged.
"Rare blood!"
A beastlike roar tore from the monk's throat.
Before becoming a demon, he had been a monk training in a temple. Even after turning into a demon, he had retained his old habits: caution, patience, thinking before acting. That was the fundamental reason he had managed to hide the Hand Demon on Mount Fujikasane for decades without discovery.
But the thousand-man rare blood had robbed him of his reason entirely.
The monk demon reached the place where the rare blood was.
Just then, a demon collapsed in front of him, burning away into ash.
The thing that had slit its throat was a sharp pair of iron shears.
As the corpse fell, the demon slayer holding those shears came into view.
He was a young man, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old, with wild white hair like steel needles, muddled black-violet eyes, and a face covered in scars. The instant he saw the monk demon, his expression lit with excitement.
"Hah! So you really came!" he laughed madly.
The monk demon's gaze lingered on the young man for only a moment.
Then it fixed directly on the clearing beyond.
There, a girl stood with her wrist cut open, blood flowing steadily down. In the monk demon's eyes, that blood shone like molten gold.
"No! How can you waste it like that?!"
With a furious shout, the monk demon kicked off the ground, both arms swelling with muscle as he hurled himself toward the girl.
Boom!
The girl lifted her sword one-handed and blocked the punch with nothing but the scabbard, then gave ground, letting the force of his blow carry her backward.
Her face was pale from blood loss, and her eyes remained tightly closed.
To the monk demon, her entire body radiated an irresistible scent.
"So you've finally come," Sui said.
She raised her slender wrist and lightly licked the blood seeping from the wound.
The sound of tearing wind followed as the monk demon hurled another punch straight at her head.
"That blood is mine!"
Sui ducked low, laid the Nichirin Blade flat against the ground, and pinned the scabbard with her foot.
The long sword gave a soft, ringing hum.
She drew the blade as she evaded the punch.
The monk demon shifted his attack downward and smashed the ground, but Sui skipped out of the way and, in the same motion, cut off one of his arms.
The wound on her wrist had not yet healed, but it was no longer bleeding. With Thunder Breathing running through her body, her physical capabilities were greatly enhanced, and a cut like that could be closed easily by sheer muscular control.
Sui landed in the clearing and wiped the blood from her lips with her fingertip.
"So you're the one who hid the Hand Demon."
The monk demon, dazed by the rare blood, showed no sign of panic even now that his scheme had been exposed.
He nodded blankly.
Then he lunged again.
But every Sui he caught was only an afterimage left behind by Thunder Breathing.
"How did you get into Mount Fujikasane?" Sui asked.
Questioning a demon was hardly the wisest course of action.
But Sui had her own methods.
When the monk demon refused to answer, she held up her wounded wrist.
"If you answer honestly, I might reward you with a drop of blood."
The monk demon froze.
Before he could say anything, the shimenawa around his neck screamed,
"Through the narrow cave behind the waterfall at the foot of the mountain! It connects to an underground river, which lets you avoid the wisteria flowers covering Mount Fujikasane!"
Apparently even Sui had not expected the rope around the monk demon's neck to speak. She blinked, then smiled.
"Good child."
"Anything else? For example, who else knows about this place? Are you the only demon who infiltrated the mountain, or are there others hiding here too?"
"We all know Mount Fujikasane is where the Demon Slayer Corps selects swordsmen. The Twelve Kizuki ordered that the place itself must not be destroyed. We only need to quietly kill off the Demon Slayer Corps' talented ones. None of the other demons care about this place—they all think even if these candidates survive and grow stronger, they still won't amount to anything. So only we bothered with all this work, while also having to worry about the wisteria interfering."
The rope sounded delighted.
"Now where's my blood? Give me your blood already!"
"Of course," Sui said with a smile. "Come here, good child."
"Hey!" the monk demon finally realized something was wrong, but the rope around his neck was already dragging him toward the girl.
"Rare blood! Eat her! Become one of the Twelve Kizuki!"
"No... no, that's not right!" the monk demon seemed to snap awake. "Blood Demon Art..."
Crack.
The monk demon's head flew off.
The girl appeared beside his headless body and sheathed her blade.
From the demon's spinning perspective, he finally saw it—
the point where that slash had begun, and the powerful lightning that had swept across the ground from it, extending all the way into the trees surrounding the clearing.
The leaves rustled softly.
Then he burned to nothing.
Join here to read ahead.
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