The night was deep and still. Only the crescent moon in the sky shed a faint silver glow, while the wind whispered through dense leaves with a soft sasa sound.
There was a hint of floral fragrance on the breeze. Kochou Kanae landed as lightly as a drifting petal, while behind her, the decapitated head of a demon howled in its final, unwilling moments.
"Damn it… damn you, Demon Slayer Corps… I don't want to die, not like this… how can I just… I don't want to die—!"
But no matter how much rage or regret filled this demon, there was nothing it could do to stop its power from leaking away, its flesh dissolving into nothing.
No matter how tenacious their life force, once a demon's neck was severed by a nichirin blade, they would turn to ash as surely as fire devours wood.
The floral scent in the air was soon overtaken by the stench of burning.
Only when the last scrap of the demon's flesh had become drifting embers did Kochou Kanae close her eyes, hiding the sorrow in her gaze.
All demons were once human. If those people, when they were still human, could see the future where they'd become monsters who devoured others, how much would it hurt?
There was no way to save those already fallen into demonhood—so, to spare more innocent lives, she could only harden her heart and cut them down. That was how Kochou Kanae saw it.
And now, she found her mind drifting to another problem.
This demon's strength… Something's off.
Kanae distinctly remembered that several Demon Slayer Corps members had already been killed here before she arrived. Yet the demon she'd just slain, while hardly weak, wasn't powerful enough to leave all those swordsmen without even a chance to flee.
By all accounts, the demon rumored to be here was likely one of the Twelve Kizuki. That was why the Corps had sent her, the Flower Hashira.
Has it already left?
Kanae sighed with real regret. "I thought I'd finally be able to find a clue about the Twelve Kizuki this time…"
Suddenly, the wind changed direction.
A coldness spread, thick with malice and cruel laughter.
Before her mind could catch up, Kanae's body was already reacting. Her nichirin blade was drawn in a blink, aimed at a shadow lurking just ahead.
Sweat soaked her back, Kanae's breath harsh and rapid, the icy wind filling her lungs and coming back out hot. Her heart pounded fiercely, blood pumping adrenaline through every limb, sharpening her mind to a crystalline focus. In that moment, her body reached its absolute peak.
All of it—because of the man standing in those shadows.
"Oh? That poor little thing's already dead?"
The source of the chill stepped lazily out of the darkness.
"I thought he had promise. Before he died, I gave him a little of my blood—turned him into a demon. He… hmm, what was his name again? Ah well, doesn't matter. Just felt like checking in, and look at this—an unexpected treat."
He was a man with hair pale as white oak, his face frozen in a smile that was nothing but terror. Though he smiled, there was no hint of emotion in it. Only void reflected in his eerie, rainbow-hued eyes.
His clothing had a strong religious feel: a red jacket, black cape, tall hat, and in one hand, a golden iron fan.
But none of that mattered.
The instant Kanae met those rainbow eyes, saw the words glowing in their depths, a bone-deep chill crashed over her—like standing in a winter gale in soaking wet clothes.
"Upper… Moon Two…"
The Twelve Kizuki: the most powerful demons beneath the Demon King himself, split into the Upper Moons and Lower Moons.
A Hashira could dispatch a Lower Moon with little trouble—but every single Upper Moon had killed more than one Hashira.
That's why the Lower Moons changed every generation, while the Upper Moons had not been slain in centuries.
And the man before her—he was Upper Moon Two… Meaning, his strength was surpassed only by Muzan and Upper Moon One!
The pressure radiating from him was like a volcano about to erupt… Never before had any demon made Kanae feel such fear. Even just standing there, he left her with no sense of hope.
Looks like I hit the jackpot, Kanae thought bitterly, forcing a crooked smile.
No amount of steady breathing could smother her fear. A cold dread crept up her spine; only by tensing even her fingertips did she keep herself from trembling.
Facing Upper Moon Two, Kanae was reminded of the first time she'd encountered a demon… the same feeling of helplessness.
Compared to this being, every other demon she'd fought until now felt like a newborn child.
"Are you here to avenge the demon I just killed?"
"Revenge? Haha! That's funny… It's supposed to be funny, right? Sorry, I'm not very good at jokes. When someone makes a joke, you're supposed to laugh, aren't you?"
Upper Moon Two tapped his chin with the fan, still wearing that empty smile. "That one? Doesn't matter. I just made him on a whim. Now that he's dead, who cares? But you—you interest me more. You're a Hashira, aren't you?"
"No need to deny it,"
He continued, "I've killed several Hashira myself, so I know what you're supposed to be like. Most of you are pretty weak, but every now and then, one of you stands out. That's always fun."
Then he snapped open his iron fan, cold eyes reflecting Kanae's image.
"Are you scared? But you're not running, just like the others I've met. I get it, I get it—that's what you call 'courage,' isn't it? Or 'duty'? The thing that keeps you from being crushed by fear and running away… I envy that. What does it feel like, I wonder? Could you describe it for me?"
He was far more talkative than she'd expected—but Kanae didn't have the luxury of answering.
She couldn't let her breathing falter, couldn't let it slow—she had to focus all her attention on her breath, or she'd be swept away by the fear of death.
In a flash, her slender legs exploded with power. Kanae shot forward in a blur, hands gripping her nichirin blade, slashing a storm of flower-petal sword lights at the demon's neck.
Nine strikes came from four directions, petals swirling—each arc of the blade blooming like a peony.
[Flower Breathing, Fifth Form: Peonies of Futility]
"Ohhh, what's this? Beautiful slashes."
Upper Moon Two seemed completely unbothered by the deadly attacks at his neck—he even had the leisure to praise them.
"Well, it's my turn. Don't blink now."
He flicked his iron fan, and Kanae's sword strikes seemed to freeze in midair—an icy stream radiated from him, so cold she had to halt in her tracks.
A blood demon art that creates ice?
Kanae's eyes sharpened. Her figure flickered among the ice spears, watching and probing her enemy, striking back whenever she could.
Demons possessed strength far beyond humans—and the most powerful among them had unique abilities called blood demon arts.
Kanae refused to simply flee in disgrace. Plenty of Lower Moons had died to the Corps, but they knew too little about the Upper Moons—their faces, their names, their abilities. Every scrap of information was vital.
This was a rare chance. Kanae was determined to at least learn about this one's powers.
From start to finish, Upper Moon Two's attitude was nothing but toying amusement, and that was exactly what Kanae wanted—being underestimated was her best chance.
But as the fight wore on, she realized—she had no hope of defeating him. If he stopped playing, she might not even escape with her life, let alone carry away any information.
His power over ice was even more troublesome than she'd guessed.
His blood demon art had an absurd range, making it nearly impossible to approach. Worse, the frigid air sapped her coordination and reaction speed.
I'm at my limit… I have to retreat.
Kanae exhaled a white puff, backing off a great distance, making up her mind with chilling clarity.
Dawn was still a long way off, and she doubted she could bait him into sunlight by relying on his carelessness. Retreat was her only option.
If she didn't escape now, she might never get another chance.
"Oh? Planning to run away already?"
Upper Moon Two saw right through her, smiling cruelly. "And here I was, having so much fun."
Kanae still didn't answer. From start to finish, it was always him talking, always so patient.
"Is that so? You're really decided? What a shame."
His eyes narrowed. "Well… I suppose it's about time. After so much exercise, your flesh must be at its most delicious—perfect for eating now."
Kanae breathed with all her might, but this time it was for escape, not attack.
And then—her eyes suddenly flew wide with shock.
I… I can't breathe?
No matter how she opened her mouth and forced her body to inhale, her lungs refused to deliver oxygen. Agony ripped through her chest, as if her lungs were being torn apart.
"Cough… cough, cough, cough—!"
Kanae's hand flew to her mouth—and came away stained with blood.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Perfectly normal. You've inhaled my blood demon art, after all."
"!!!"
Upper Moon Two stood right in front of her, smiling. She hadn't even sensed him move.
"The only reason you Demon Slayers can fight us is that breathing technique, right? So if I destroy your lungs, you're no threat at all. Clever, don't you think?"
"Gluu… gluu…"
"Oh? Can't talk anymore? I'm sorry—you must be in pain beyond imagination, right?"
Feigning regret, he covered his mouth, then smiled again. "Don't worry, it'll be over soon. Once you become part of my flesh, there'll be no more pain, no more fear."
Ice mist that destroys the lungs—speed no Hashira could follow… This was why the demon before her fought with such arrogance.
But for Kanae, the realization came too late.
She could no longer use her breathing techniques. Every gasp brought her to the brink of unconsciousness.
Under the moonlight, Upper Moon Two spread open his iron fan, its icy gleam promising to sever Kanae's head in a heartbeat.
If nothing unexpected happened, in less than a second, that blade would take her life.
But then—
BOOM!
A thunderous roar split the night, making Upper Moon Two turn in surprise.
And then—what he saw was a white-gloved fist, rapidly growing in size.
BANG!
Nightingale's fist crashed squarely into Upper Moon Two's face, the force warping his skull, bone fragments bursting out like bullets as his entire head was pulverized into a mess of flesh.
The shockwave whipped the ground into a gale. Upper Moon Two was blasted away faster than the eye could follow, smashing through several trees in a shower of blood.
Kanae, ready to gamble everything in one last strike, could only stare in disbelief at the woman in red who had suddenly appeared before her.
Nightingale's gaze shifted, locking onto the half-kneeling Kanae.
It wasn't until their eyes met that Kanae realized—she'd been saved.
But…
Is this woman part of the Demon Slayer Corps? Why don't I recognize her? And… is there really someone this strong besides Himejima-san?
To smash a demon to pieces with bare hands—Kanae had thought only the Stone Hashira, Himejima Gyomei, could do that. Yet here was another, and a young woman at that.
No, now's not the time for that… I have to make sure she gets information about Upper Moon Two to the Corps… But how can I…
Kanae had long since stopped expecting to make it back alive. After inhaling the freezing mist, she doubted she'd survive even if she escaped.
She didn't want to die. There was still so much left undone, so many promises unkept. But—
If I can get information about an Upper Moon back to the Corps—if that gives them even a sliver of hope—then maybe my life wasn't wasted after all…
With that bittersweet resolve, Kanae looked up to find Nightingale crouched before her, leaning in close.
"Body temperature's too low, breathing is wheezy—looks like trachea and lungs are damaged… Surgery is probably necessary."
Nightingale opened her huge travel bag, producing a syringe.
"Surgery will have to wait until we're back. For now, this should slow your symptoms a bit—hang in there."
Kanae, meanwhile, stared blankly at the massive travel bag.
Has that thing always been at her side…?
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T/N: LMAOOO HE GOT SENT FLYINGGGG