Under Black Fang's stunned gaze, Kawanishi's decapitated body swayed—and then slowly stood back up.
At the same time, from the back of his headless torso, a pair of blazing white wings stretched wide to both sides.
Each of these brilliant white wings spanned over three meters.
They trembled lightly, as if celebrating their own birth.
Black Fang looked down at Kawanishi's severed head in his hand—only to find the eyes staring right back at him.
"Impossible. A newly born demon, using a Blood Demon Art?"
"My talent was praised even by that lord. He promised me that if I mastered my Blood Demon Art, I'd be granted the title of Lower Moon Six, and allowed to follow at his side."
"You—someone who doesn't even dare to eat humans—how dare you awaken a Blood Demon Art this quickly!"
"How dare you!"
Blazing with jealousy, Black Fang snapped.
"Blood Demon Art: Blade Prison!"
His bizarre, jagged blade reappeared in his hands. His eyes turned crimson, and the six claw-like scars on his cheeks burned blood-red.
Blinded by rage, Black Fang flung Kawanishi's head forward, raised his blade high, and slashed down with a deafening roar.
He was going to split Kawanishi's head right down the middle.
But in that instant, a deadly sense of danger came from his side—aiming straight at the back of his head and heart.
The sensation was just like that terrifying deathly fear he'd felt as a demon under the sun.
Every cell in his body screamed at him to dodge.
In a split-second decision, Black Fang abandoned his attack on Kawanishi and rolled out of the way, barely evading the unseen threat.
When he recovered and looked back—
Kawanishi was holding his own severed head and pressing it back onto the stump of his neck. In an instant, flesh knit back together. He was whole again.
"Ah… it feels good having my head attached to my body."
Black Fang looked around—and spotted two steaming, white-hot feathers embedded in the wall, slowly dissolving into the air.
The deadly pressure he'd felt earlier had come from those two feathers.
Now filled with confusion and caution, Black Fang reined in his bloodlust and asked,
"Your Blood Demon Art… what is it?"
"Why does it feel like I'm facing sunlight?"
Kawanishi replied calmly, "What's it to you? Weren't you all smug a minute ago? So now what, still trying to make me feel despair?"
On the surface, Kawanishi appeared composed.
But truthfully, he had no idea what was going on either.
When he'd activated the Breath of the Sun, his original plan was simply to boost his physical abilities and break free from Black Fang's hold.
But as he began using it, something strange happened to his body.
Maybe it was a side effect of a demon using human breathing techniques.
Two mysterious, blood-linked energy sources flared up along with his breathing—located just above his shoulder blades, on either side of his spine.
Then, with a burst of heat and power, the dazzling white wings tore through his back and unfolded.
At that moment, Kawanishi knew—this was his Blood Demon Art: Radiant Wings.
A strange silence fell between them.
Black Fang watched, wary and unsettled. The more he looked at the wings, the more he felt they were forged of sunlight.
That intense, deathly pressure from the glowing feathers kept him frozen.
Meanwhile, Kawanishi was curiously trying to familiarize himself with his new wings.
He reached out to touch them—only to recoil in pain. His fingers blackened, burnt.
"My Blood Demon Art… does it hurt even me?"
"What the hell… why am I getting hurt too?"
Apparently, the wings couldn't be touched freely—not even by their owner. Though born of his own power, they could still burn him.
Still, despite being newly formed, the wings felt like an extension of his body—like arms or legs. Easy to control, agile, and alive.
He tried flapping them—but after awkwardly lifting off the ground a few centimeters, he nearly faceplanted.
With no flight experience to speak of, having wings didn't exactly mean he could fly.
"Who would've thought… in my last life, people dreamed of flying with their own wings, and now that I'm a demon, I get to live that dream."
But Kawanishi believed: one day, he would fly for real.
Off to the side, Black Fang watched him flap clumsily. A flash of inspiration lit up his eyes.
"Those wings… they absolutely have something to do with sunlight. If I report this to that lord…"
"Haha, he'd be thrilled. He might even reward me with a massive amount of blood, making me stronger."
"Maybe… I could even become Upper Moon One—second only to that lord himself."
The thought was thrilling—almost unimaginable. Black Fang was growing more excited by the second.
"Kid, just wait. Your master Black Fang will be back. I'll let you off for now."
Kawanishi: "Huh?"
He hadn't expected Black Fang to suddenly decide to run.
With that, Black Fang turned and bolted without hesitation. He had no intention of fighting anymore.
Right now, getting word to that lord about this demon with sunlight-linked wings was the top priority.
Kawanishi had no idea what was happening—he just saw Black Fang's face twist from green to pale to a grotesque, manic grin.
"Why are you running?"
Seeing Black Fang flee, Kawanishi instinctively gave chase.
He wasn't sure what had changed, but whatever it was, letting the enemy achieve his goal could only spell trouble.
But just a few steps into the pursuit, Black Fang suddenly turned around—rage and frustration distorting his face.
"Hey! First you run, then you come back—so which is it? Fight or flee? Make up your damn mind!"
This demon, who had earlier overwhelmed Kawanishi with fear and pressure…
Now looked—no matter how you sliced it—like a total idiot.
Gritting his fangs, Black Fang snapped, "If it weren't for the damn sunrise—if the sun weren't up—I wouldn't be retreating and coming back like this!"
Kawanishi finally understood.
While he'd been fighting inside the bear cave with Black Fang, the hidden sun had quietly risen, spreading its warmth and light.
"So, you can't escape now. And there's no way out."
In that instant, the air between them turned grim and tense.
This fight would end with one demon dead. Only one of them would walk out of this cave tonight.
"Run? Are you mocking me?"
Black Fang panted heavily, eyes bloodshot.
So this brat, whose head he had once cut off with ease—now thought he could suppress him just because he awakened some flashy power?
He, Black Fang, had battled both demons and demon slayers for decades. Countless arrogant fools had died by his hand.
Even if this kid had some freakish Blood Demon Art, he wasn't afraid.
If that's how it had to be, he'd just have to go to a little more trouble—rip off his limbs again, and deliver him in pieces to that lord himself.
(End of Chapter)