Chapter 35: Butterfly
With his Breathing Technique pushed to its absolute limit, Kanzaki Akira became a blur of incandescent lightning, vanishing into the night. His crow, Ink Shadow, soared through the air, flapping its wings so furiously they were nearly invisible, yet it could only watch as its master pulled further and further away.
"Hey! I haven't even hitched a ride yet!" the crow squawked in protest, its voice lost in the wind.
Galloping at a blinding pace, Akira's Super Sight was already active, scanning the landscape and locking onto the demon's trail. It was heading towards a small village nestled near a town. It seemed a Kakushi member on patrol had spotted the creature and sent out a distress signal, which Ink Shadow had intercepted.
Because Akira made no effort to conceal his presence, the demon sensed the thunderous approach from a distance. It turned its head, its inhuman eyes meeting Akira's across the fields.
For a split second, both of them froze.
Akira's gaze instantly focused on the kanji carved into the demon's left eye: "Lower Three." At the same time, the demon registered the immense power radiating from the swordsman hurtling toward it.
In the next moment, the cold fury in Akira's eyes ignited into blazing excitement. The demon's, however, filled with a flicker of raw panic.
Lower Rank Three, Byōba. He was a male demon with short, messy black hair and distinctive X-shaped scars etched onto his forehead and beneath both eyes. He also wore a pair of unique golden earrings, their design strikingly similar to those worn by Uzui Tengen, the Sound Hashira.
Are you kidding me? Byōba thought, a wave of indignation washing over him. I just came out for a late-night snack, and before I can even find a bite to eat, some lunatic comes charging at me wreathed in sparks and lightning.
He could feel the sheer speed of his pursuer, and he knew that such velocity could only be backed by terrifying strength. The instinct to retreat screamed in his mind. After all, he was just out for a meal; there was no reason to risk his life for it.
A dignified Lower Moon, and this is his first reaction upon meeting an opponent, Akira mused with a flicker of disdain. No wonder Muzan purged him without a second thought in the original story. Pathetic.
In a flash, Byōba spun on his heel and bolted, running at full speed away from the village he'd been approaching.
But Akira didn't even spare the retreating figure a glance. Instead, he accelerated, his body a golden arrow aimed straight for the village itself. His Super Sight had seen through the trick instantly. As Byōba had turned to flee, another, identical figure had used the demon's retreating back as cover, darting silently into the cluster of homes.
The runner was just a diversion.
The moment Akira's foot touched the village's dirt path, a volley of sharp projectiles hissed at him from the shadows.
In that instant, Byōba became the first demon to truly comprehend the overwhelming advantage Akira's Super Sight provided in combat. Every demon before him had been decapitated in a single, blinding strike, never given the chance to experience it.
He watched, helpless, as his perfectly timed sneak attack was rendered useless. The impossibly young man simply tilted his head, letting several of the poisoned darts whistle past his ear. With a casual flick of his wrist, his Nichirin Blade flashed, precisely deflecting the remaining two.
Byōba's blood ran cold. He knew, with chilling certainty, that he was no match for this boy. He had to escape.
Just as that thought solidified, a bolt of pure, incandescent lightning shot straight for his face.
Caught between life and death, he threw his entire body to the side in a desperate, twisting evasion. The strike, originally aimed for his neck, was thrown off by a hair's breadth. It failed to sever his head completely, but it carved clean through his left arm and half of his shoulder.
Byōba used the momentum to flip backward, creating distance as he fled for his life. He frantically threw more darts over his shoulder, hoping to slow the relentless pursuit.
Seconds later, his arm had already begun to regenerate. At the same time, his vision locked onto a new target: a young girl, drawn out of her home by the commotion.
An opportunity. A hostage. If he could just grab her, he could create the opening he needed to escape.
The plan formed and was executed in a single, fluid motion. Byōba flung another handful of darts behind him as his newly reformed left hand lunged toward the girl.
She had just opened her door, her mind not yet processing the chaos outside. Before she could even react, a hideous, sharp claw was inches from her face. Her world narrowed to that cold, gleaming weapon and the monstrous, grinning face behind it.
But then, a streak of golden lightning filled her vision.
"Thunder Breathing, Seventh Form: Honoikazuchi no Kami - Dragon's Glide."
In that instant, the incandescent bolt seemed to transform into a celestial dragon. With a roar that tore through the air and a flick of its tail, it burst through the dense shower of darts, severed the demon's head from its shoulders, and came to a perfect halt directly in front of the girl.
Byōba's head flew high into the air, his eyes still wide with the lingering cruelty of his attack, now overlaid with a fresh mask of pure horror.
Under the girl's stunned and frightened gaze, the headless body slowly collapsed, crumbling into ash and dissipating into the night.
"Are you okay?" Only after confirming the demon had completely vanished did Akira turn, his voice soft and gentle as he addressed the girl.
"I... I'm fine." She stared blankly at the spot where the demon had disintegrated, then looked up at the clean-cut youth before her, who couldn't have been much older than herself. Her pinkish-purple pupils were wide, her mind still struggling to catch up. Then, her eyes widened further. "Ah! You're injured!"
Only then did she see the bleeding wound on Akira's left shoulder.
In the heat of the moment, Akira had been forced to use his newly developed sword form. It was a technique designed to maximize evasion and deflection while simultaneously accelerating his charge, but even it had its limits. Byōba's final, desperate volley of darts had been too dense, too widespread. He couldn't dodge them all.
At that critical moment, the demon's hand had been inches from the girl. Akira would never stand by and watch a demon harm someone right in front of him.
"It's nothing, just a minor injury," Akira said, shaking his head slightly as he prepared to leave.
As Lower Rank Three's body had vanished, Ink Shadow had finally caught up. The Kakushi cleanup crew would be arriving soon. There was nothing left for him to do here. He needed to find a place to treat the wound; the demon's darts were poisoned, and a patch of his left shoulder was already growing numb.
"Wait!" the girl called out, stopping him as he turned. "Please, come inside and let us treat the wound first. My family runs a clinic, and we have medicine."
Akira paused. Returning to the Demon Slayer Corps' medical ward would take time. Since there was a doctor right here, it would be far more practical. He nodded and followed the girl into the house.
"Father, come quickly! There's an injured person here," the girl called toward a side room, ushering Akira to sit down.
The thunderous clash of Akira's final attack had woken several nearby residents, but because Byōba had dissipated so quickly, they saw nothing amiss and had simply returned to their beds. This family, however, had clearly been roused by the danger right outside their door. Hearing the girl's call, they all emerged at once.
There was a middle-aged man with a scholarly air who looked vaguely familiar to Akira, a gentle-faced woman who bore a strong resemblance to the girl, and a younger girl who was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Kanae, what happened?" the middle-aged man asked, and the name he spoke made Akira freeze.
He looked again, carefully this time, at the girl who had saved him. Her eyes were a soft, gentle pinkish-purple. She had long, straight black hair, and her delicate features were perfectly arranged on a fair, lovely face.
The younger girl beside her had a pair of striking, pure purple pupils, just like the middle-aged man. Her short black hair, which barely reached her ears, was tipped with the same shade of purple. Her youthful face held a hint of a tomboyish, heroic spirit.
Familiar features. A familiar name.
For a moment, Akira was speechless. The Kocho family. The family he had searched for so long, with no news, no leads... was right here.
"Father, don't ask questions yet," Kanae said urgently. "Please, check this gentleman's injuries first."
"Alright, alright." The man's eyes flickered to the unconcealed sword at Akira's waist, and his tone carried a hint of weary resignation, but he stepped forward without another word to carefully examine the wound.
At that same moment, far above the village, Ink Shadow wheeled in the sky and shot off toward Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. It had arrived just in time to see Akira behead the demon, its sharp eyes clearly registering the "Lower Three" characters in its pupil before it fell. The news of Akira's kill was already on its way.
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